DESERT CONQUEST
Or
Precious Waters
by
A. M. CHISHOLM
Author of The Boss of Wind River, Etc.
Illustrated by Clarence Rowe
"I'LL MAKE THIS ONE QUIET!" SNAPPED SHEILA, FOR THE HARDPACE HAD TOLD ON HER TEMPER THROUGH HER BRUISES]
New YorkGrosset & DunlapPublishers
Copyright, 1913, byDoubleday, Page & CompanyAll rights reserved, including that oftranslation into foreign languages,including the Scandinavian
Copyright, 1912, 1913, by Street & Smith, Publishers
DESERT CONQUEST
or
PRECIOUS WATERS
CHAPTER I
Miss Nita Hess flattened a snub nose against the Pullman window, andstared at the expressionless face of the plains with an avidity to beexplained only by the fact that her acquaintance with them up to thenhad been principally through the medium of light literature perusedsurreptitiously in a select school for young ladies in the extremeEast. But her remarks from time to time would have shocked theultra-correct preceptresses of that excellent seat of learning.
"Oh, gee, Clyde," she exclaimed suddenly, "look at the cute littledeer! Oh, see 'em scoot!"
Her companion glanced from the window, and stifled a yawn. "Antelope,"she commented, without interest. "Yes, I see them, Nita," and leanedback again, closing her eyes.
In fact, Miss Clyde Burnaby was bored by the journey, and a little--avery little--by her fifteen-year-old cousin, daughter of the celebratedJames C. Hess, of the equally celebrated Hess Railway System. Nita wasa good little girl, and a nice little girl--in spite of occasionallingual lapses--but only a sense of duty to dear old Uncle Jim hadinduced Clyde to forego her European trip that she might accompany Nitato the Pacific coast for the benefit of that young lady's health, whichClyde privately considered as sound as the national currency system.
In a democratic moment she had refused Hess' offer of a private car,and she now rather regretted it. She had a headache, and the greatcoils of red-gold hair seemed to weigh tons. It would have been arelief to have it taken down and brushed by a deft-fingered maid. Butthe maid also had been left behind. And that, she decided, was amistake, also.
Clyde Burnaby was alone in the world. Her father's modest fortune,under the able management of his executor, Jim Hess, had expandedwonderfully. So far as money was concerned, no reasonable wish of hersneed remain ungratified. She was accomplished, travelled, and verygood-looking. She had refused half a dozen offers of hands, hearts,and fortunes--the latter equal to her own--and also two titlesunaccompanied by fortunes, with hearts as doubtful collateral. Shekept her own bachelor establishment in Chicago, gave to charity withdiscretion, took a quiet part in the social life of her set, dabbledin art and literature, had a few good friends, and was generallyconsidered a very lucky, amiable, and handsome young woman.
But just then she was bored with the trip and with Nita, whoseenthusiasms she could not share. The heat of the Pullman seemedstifling, the odour of coal unbearable. The land was dead-brown, flat,dreary, monotonous. Leaning back with closed eyes, she longed for thedeck of a liner, the strong, salt breezes, the steady pulse of theengines--even for cold rain from a gray sky, sullen, shouldering seas,and the whip of spindrift on her cheeks. Beside her Nita prattledsteadily.
"We're going to stop, Clyde. Here's a station. Look at the yard withall the cows in it. I wonder if those men are cowboys. They don't looklike the pictures. But isn't it funny how those ponies stand with thereins hanging down and not tied at all? I wish _my_ pony would standthat way. Here come two men on horseback. My, but they're riding fast!I wonder if they are trying to catch the train?"
Two blown ponies bore down on the station at a dead run. One of theriders jumped off and ran for the office. The other unstrapped abundle, apparently mostly slicker, from his companion's saddle cantle.In a moment the first emerged. The energetic Nita had opened thewindow, and Clyde overheard their conversation.
"I'm shy my grip," said the first. "The agent doesn't know where sheis, and I can't wait. Round up Rosebud soon as you can, and find outwhat's become of it."
The other swore frankly at Rosebud, who appeared to be an individual."I'll bet he's drunk, somewheres. I'll express your war bag when I findit."
The engine bell clanged a warning, and the conductor shoutedcryptically. The two men shook hands.
"So long, Joe," said the younger. "I've had a whale of a time. Come upto my country and see me next year. Come any old time. We'll bustthings wide open for you."
The other grinned widely. "The missus ain't lettin' me range like Iused to. So long. Keep sober, old-timer. Don't play none withstrangers. Say, d'you remember the time when we----"
Clyde lost the remainder in the shudder and grind of the trucks as thecoaches began to move. The two men disappeared from her field ofvision. Nita closed the window. Once more she leaned back, resigningherself to the weariness of the journey.
But a moment afterward the man of the platform appeared at the end ofthe aisle, accompanied by the porter who carried his bundle. Instantlyhe became the cynosure of a battery of disapproving eyes.
For his apparel would have been more in place in the bare colonist carsof the first section than in the vestibuled, luxurious rear coaches ofthe second. From the battered and stained old pony hat on his head tothe disreputable laced boots into which his trousers were shoved, hewas covered with the gray dust of the plains. Apart from his costumeand the top dressing of dust, he was tall, cleanly built, and evidentlyas hard as a wire nail. His hair missed red by the merest fraction, andhis eyes were a clear blue, level and direct. He moved as lightly as aprowling animal, and he met the supercilious and disdainful glances ofhis fellow passengers with a half smile of amused comprehension.
The porter, with a deference betokening an unusually large advance tip,ushered him to a seat across the aisle from Clyde's. But the stranger,catching a glimpse of himself in the panel mirror, stopped suddenly.Instantly Clyde's nostrils were assailed by a strong odour of leatherand horseflesh. She shuddered in spite of herself. It was the laststraw. As a rule she was not overparticular, but just then she was inthat state of nerves when little things fretted her. She said toherself that a cattle car was the proper place for this young man. Ashe spoke to the porter she listened resentfully, prepared to disapproveof anything he might say. Said he:
"Mistuh Washin'ton Jeffe'son Bones, look at me carefully. Do you seeany dust upon my garments?"
"Yassuh, yassuh," chuckled the porter. "Don't see much else, suh."
"And could you--on a bet of about a dollar--undertake to put me in acondition not to damage the seats?"
"Yassuh; sho' could, suh!"
"Go to it, then," said the stranger. "I'm after you."
He did not return for an hour. Then he was noticeably cleaner, and theodour of horse was replaced by that of cigars, less objectionable toClyde. As he took his seat he glanced at her frankly, a shade ofdrollery in his eye, as if he were quite aware of her disapproval, andwas amused by it. She stiffened a trifle, ignoring him utterly. Not bya hair's breadth would she encourage this free-and-easy person.
For some hours she had been annoyed by the behaviour of a man severalseats away. Whenever she had glanced in his direction he had beenlooking at her. Once he had smiled ingratiatingly. Clyde's life had notincluded first-hand experiences of this kind, but she was able toclassify the man accurately. Still, there had been nothing definite tocomplain of. Now this individual arose and came down the aisle. In hishand was a book. He halted by her side.
"Beg pardon," said he. "Would you care to look at this?"
"No, thank you," she replied frigidl
y.
"It isn't bad," he persisted. "I'll leave it with you."
"Thank you, I don't want it," said Clyde. But nevertheless he droppedthe volume in her lap, smiling offensively.
"Look it over," said he. "I'll get it later."
Paying no attention to her indignant refusal, he walked down the aisleto the smoking compartment. Clyde, a bright spot of anger on eithercheek, turned to Nita.
"I think I shall speak to the conductor."
"It's because you're so pretty," said Nita, with an air of vastexperience. "I've had the same thing, almost, happen to me. Back atcollege--in the town, I mean--there was a boy----But perhaps I'd betternot say anything about it. He was very bold indeed!" She pursed herlips primly, but her eyes belied their expression.
"I beg your pardon," said the man across the aisle.
Once more Clyde froze indignantly. Never before had she felt the needof an escort in her travels. Never again, she told herself, would shetravel alone with merely a fifteen-year-old kid for her sole companion.She honoured the new offender with a haughty stare. He smiledunaffectedly.
"Nothing like that," he disclaimed, as if he had read her thoughts."I'll take that book if you don't want it. He can get it back from me."
He stretched a long arm across, and thanked her as she handed him thebook mechanically. Forthwith he opened it, and began to read. And hewas still absorbed in it when the donor returned.
That gentleman paused uncertainly beside Clyde, who was haughtilyunconscious of his presence.
"Did you--er----" he began.
At that moment the man across the aisle twitched his coat sleeve."Looking for the book you left with me?" he asked casually. "Here itis."
The other stared at him in uneasy surprise. "I didn't----"
"Oh, yes, you did," the man across the aisle interrupted. "Anyway, youmeant to. You'll remember if you think a minute. You didn't leave itwith that young lady, because you don't know her, and you're not thekind of man to butt in where you're not wanted. Now, are you?"
"Of course not," the other replied, with a show of indignation. "Idon't know----"
"Then that's all right," said the stranger quietly. "Here's your book.And there's your seat. And don't make any more mistakes."
The gregarious gentleman accepted this advice and his book meekly.Thereafter he avoided even looking in Clyde's direction. To her reliefthe stranger did not presume on the service he had rendered. Hestretched his long legs upon the opposite seat, leaned back, and gazedsilently at the roof. The afternoon dragged on. Clyde and Nita went tothe diner and returned. Afterward the stranger presumably did likewise,spending a decent interval in the smoker. Darkness fell, and theLimited thundered on westward across the plains to the country of thefoothills, the mountain ranges, and its goal at the thither end of thePacific slope.
Suddenly, with a scream of air and a grinding of brake shoes, the traincame to a stop. Clyde looked out. The level, monotonous plains were nolonger there. The country was rolling, studded with clumps ofcottonwoods. The moon, close to the full, touched the higher spots withsilver, intensifying the blackness of the shadows.
Clyde peered ahead to the limit of her restricted area of vision, forthe lights of a station or a town. There was none. Not even the lightedsquare of a ranch-house window broke the night. Five minutes passed,ten, and still the train remained motionless. Suddenly, at the forwardend of the coach, appeared the porter. Followed the occupants of thesmoking compartment, each with his hands on the shoulders of the man infront of him in impromptu lockstep. Behind them came an apparitionwhich caused the passengers, after a first gasp of incredulity, to venttheir feelings in masculine oaths and little feminine screams of alarm.
This intruder was a large man, powerfully built. His hat was shovedback from his forehead, but his face was concealed by a square of darkcloth, cut with eyeholes. In his right hand he dandled with easyfamiliarity an exceedingly long-barrelled revolver. His left handrested upon the twin of it, in a holster at his thigh. At his shoulderwas another man, similarly masked.
"Everybody sit quiet!" the first commanded crisply. "Gents will hooktheir fingers on top of their heads, and keep them there. No call to befrightened, ladies, 'long's the men show sense. My partner will passalong the contribution bag. No holding out, and no talk. And justremember I'll get the first man that makes a move."
Clyde had joined in the gasp of surprise, but she had not screamed.Nita was trembling with excitement.
"I wouldn't have missed it for worlds!" the girl whispered. "Oh, Clyde,isn't he a duck of a holdup? Will there be shooting? Haven't any ofthese men got any nerve?"
Clyde became aware that the man in the seat opposite was speaking toher out of the corner of his mouth, his hands prudently crossed on hispate.
"If you have anything of special value--rings, watch, that sort ofstuff--get rid of it. Put it on the floor if you can, and kick it underthe seat ahead. Don't cache it in your own seat. Give him what moneyyou have--that's what he wants. Tell the kid next you to do the same.And don't be nervous. You're as safe as if you were at home."
Clyde wore no rings. The few articles of jewellery she had brought withher were already safely concealed beyond the masculine ken of any meretrain robber. But her watch was suspended around her neck by a thingold chain. The watch could be detached, but the chain itself must belifted over the head; and that would attract attention. To leave thechain would be to admit the existence of the watch. Without aninstant's hesitation she tugged sharply. The frail links broke.Lowering the watch to the floor of the car, she shoved it forward withher foot.
Meanwhile the second masked man was making swift progress down theaisle. In his left hand was a gunny sack, in his right a formidablesix-shooter. He was a gentleman of humorous turn, and he indulged injocose remarks as he went, which, however, fell on an unappreciativeaudience. Because time pressed he did not attempt to skin each victimclean. He took what he could get, and passed on to the next; but hetook everything in sight, and, moreover, each man was forced to turnhis pockets inside out. This brought to light several pocket-editionfirearms, which likewise went into the bag. With infinite humour hedeclared his intention of taking them home to his children. They weretoys, he explained, with which the darlings could not hurt themselves.
"Thank you, miss," was his acknowledgment of the roll of bills whichClyde handed him. "You're sure an example to a lot o' these tinhornsports. I reckon you got some pretty stones cached somewheres too, butI won't force your hand, seein's you've acted like a little lady. Justget up till I look at the seat. Now, partner"--he turned on the manacross the aisle--"it's you to sweeten!"
That individual produced a very attenuated roll. "Sorry I can't go tothe centre any stronger, old-timer. You've got me at the wrong endbetween pay days."
"Huh!" The holdup eyed him suspiciously. "Keep your hands stric'ly awayfrom your pockets for a minute." He slapped them in quick succession."No gun," said he, "and that's lucky for both of us, maybe. Business isbusiness, partner, but I hate to set an old-timer afoot complete. Keepout about ten for smokes and grub."
"Yours truly," responded the other. "When you land in the calaboose forthis racket I'll keep you in tobacco. What name shall I ask for?"
"If I land there you can ask for a damfool--and I'll answer the firsttime," laughed the holdup over his shoulder. "Next gent! Here's thelittle bag. Lady, keep your weddin' ring. You fat sport, stand up tillI see what you're sittin' on. Why, was you tryin' to hatch out thatbunch of money? I'll surely do that incubatin' myself."
He levied tribute swiftly, in spite of his badinage, and the gunny sacksagged heavier and heavier. As he reached the end, his companion, whohad dominated the passengers with his gun, abandoned his position andcame down the aisle. At the rear door he turned.
"Keep your seats till the train moves," he ordered harshly. "I'm layin'for the first man that sticks his head out of this car."
Behind him the coach buzzed like a disturbed hive. Its occupantsbewailed their losses, vowed
vengeance on both holdups and railway.Women reproached men with cowardice. Men told each other what theywould have done if---- But not one attempted to leave his seat.
Nita turned to Clyde with sparkling eyes. "And now I've been in aholdup!" she exclaimed. "Won't that be a thing to tell the girls? Wereyou frightened, Clyde? _I_ wasn't."
"I don't think so," Clyde replied. "I'm glad we saved our watches." Thewords recalled the man across the aisle. He was leaning back, listeningto odd bits of conversation, a smile of amusement on his face. Clydeleaned across.
"I want to thank you," she said. "We should never have thought ofhiding our watches."
He nodded pleasantly. "No, not likely. I hope you didn't lose muchmoney. He left me ten dollars. I don't want to be misunderstood, butthat's very much at your service until you can get more."
"And what shall you do--till pay day?" she asked, obeying a suddenmischievous impulse.
"Oh, I'll worry along," he replied. His long arm stretched across, anda ten-dollar bill fell in her lap.
"No, no," she said, "I was joking. I have plenty----"
She stopped suddenly. Somewhere toward the head of the train a revolverbarked, and barked again. Then came a staccato fusillade.
Swiftly the man across the aisle reached for his bundle, tore it open,and plucked from it a long-barrelled, flat-handled, venomous automaticpistol and a box of cartridges. He slid out the clip, snapped it back,and went down the car in long pantherlike bounds, bending half double.
Up forward the shooting, which had ceased, began again. Suddenly therebroke into it the voice of another weapon, rapid and sustained as theroll of an alarm clock. Other guns chimed in. A miniature battle seemedto be in progress. And then it died. An occasional shot came from thedistance. Silence ensued.
Men whose curiosity got the better of prudence left the car andreturned. The train robbers were gone. It was thought that two or threewere wounded. It was the express messenger who had started theshooting. He had got loose, somehow, in his rifled car, got a gun froma drawer, and opened fire. He was shot through the shoulder. A bravefellow, that. The company should do something for him. Two others ofthe train crew were hit.
Clyde awaited the return of the man across the aisle. The train beganto move, gathered way, and thundered on. Still he did not return. Theporter began to make up the berths. To him she applied for information.He knew nothing. The conductor was in equal ignorance. Inquiriesthroughout the train were fruitless. The man of the seat across theaisle was not forthcoming. His few belongings, which threw no light onhis identity, were gathered up to await his appearance. It wassuggested, to Clyde's indignation, that he was an accomplice of therobbers, but in what manner was not clear.
And so Clyde Burnaby went on to the coast with ten dollars which shedid not in the least need. She neither saw nor heard more of theirowner; but, though it was unlikely she should meet him again, she keptthe identical bill. On her return she tucked it away in a drawer in herwriting desk; and when occasionally she noticed it there it was merelyto wonder, with some self-reproach, how its owner had fared until thenext pay day.