CHAPTER XVIII

  GREATER RAGTOWN

  Indeed he was an important-looking individual who greeted the freightoutfit of Jerkline Jo when it came to a weary halt at the foot of thedesert buttes. He wore a new olive-drab suit, composed of Norfolkjacket and bellows breeches, an imposing Columbia-shape Stetson, andshiny new russet-leather puttees. From one corner of his mouth,aligned with his twisted nose, protruded long, expensive-looking cigar.This was Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet.

  Hat removed, bowing like a Japanese, he approached the astonishedskinners and offered his hand to Jerkline Jo.

  "Madam," he said, "permit me to extend to you Ragtown's most cordialwelcome. And you, gentlemen, are included, of course. When you havethe time, Miss Modock, I should like the pleasure of your presence inthe office of the Paloma Rancho Investment Company. If I may offer asuggestion, too, it might be well to deposit Mr. Demarest's freightclose to my office, so that I can look out for it until the arrival ofthe outfit. Hooker, come with your employer if you can conveniently doso."

  So saying, Mr. Tweet recrowned himself with his new Stetson, turned,and strolled impressively toward his tent, disappearing between itslazily flapping portals.

  With the exception of Hiram Hooker, Jo's skinners shouted withlaughter. Jo and Hiram merely exchanged bewildered looks.

  "We'll go over now, Wild Cat," she said. "There's lots of time tounload. We can't make it out of here to-day, anyway."

  Side by side they walked toward the lonesome little tent with the bigsign on a pole in front of it--a mere atom of white in the vast desert.

  Orr Tweet sat at an oaken desk in one corner of the tent. In anothercorner was his bunk, a new suit case, and a new trunk, both in keepingwith Tweet's expensive outdoor clothes. There were several chairs.Tweet arose briskly and held one for the girl with all the ceremony ofa head waiter in a restaurant of repute.

  "Jo," he began, "I hope you'll pardon the familiarity; there is amatter of sixteen or seventeen dollars due you, I believe, for mytransportation from Frisco to Palada. And, Hiram, I believe I owe yousomewhere in the neighborhood of thirty dollars--the exact amountescapes me temporarily. Now, both of you, the question is this: Do youprefer cash, or stock in the Paloma Rancho Investment Company, or land?The choice is yours."

  "Tweet," ordered Hiram, "get down off your high horse and talk sense.What on earth is all this, anyway?"

  Tweet laughed and winked and became himself again.

  "Hiram, old boy," he confided, "I'm on the road to fortune. This isgonta be the biggest deal I ever tried to swing. And, by golly! I'mthe little boy that c'n swing 'er!"

  "Tell us about it," pleaded Jerkline Jo.

  "Well, sir, Jo, I owe everything to you, and I'll prove I'm not the manto be slow in showin' my gratitude. I'm a go-getter, and no mistake.I couldn't make you folks believe it, so I had to go to work and showyou. But I bear you no ill will. You didn't know anything about me.

  "Well, dear little playmates, here's the dope:

  "That night watchman over there at Julia told me who owned all the landabout here, and said they were in tight financial circumstances--badlyin need o' ready money. They're big land owners--land poor. I drankthat all down, and she listened good to me. For the rest, I banked onthe accurate judgment of a party known as Jerkline Jo. I says tomyself: 'Jo's been on the grade all her life and savvies conditions.If she says Ragtown is goin' to be located at the buttes, that part o'the country's the part to get toehold on. Anyway, Playmate,' I says,'we'll take a chance on Jerkline Jo.' And that's what me and Playmatedid.

  "I hunted up the owners o' the land when I gets to Los Angeles, andmakes 'em an offer on twelve thousan' acres--comprisin' the entiretract known as Paloma Rancho, an ancient Spanish grant. Good fornothin', I'd been told, but to run cows on in winter, when the filareeand bunch grass are green. Just the same, there are other parts o'this ole desert that are comin' out with a bang here lately. Lookit upin Lucerne Valley and around Victorville! Good pear land, once she'scleared o' the desert growth and a little humus-bearin' fertilizeradded to the soil. Produces good alfalfa, too. Anyway, I says I'lltake a chance, so I made 'em an offer.

  "They pretended like they thought the railroad was gonta do 'em a loto' good in a few years; that they didn't care whether they disposed o'the property or not. But that bunk's old stuff to me, so I shut 'em upand made 'em talk turkey. I made 'em an offer o' ten dollars an acrefor Paloma Rancho, payment to be made in quarterly installments of sixthousan' dollars, each, contract to run for five years, with interestat seven per cent on deferred payments--first payment o' six thousan'dollars to be made in advance.

  "They refused, and I picked up my hat and started out. They called meback, and for ten minutes we puttered around between ten dollars anacre and fifteen, and at last they fell into my arms. We had thepapers drawn up, and I slips 'em a certified check for six thousan'buckerinos."

  "You gave them six thousand dollars!" cried Hiram.

  "Sure," Tweet replied easily. "I'd already wired to Frisco anddisposed o' my ditch-digger holdin's for over eight thousan'; I gotover a thousan' left, five hundred paid on an automobile that's nowasleep back o' this office, and a toehold on Paloma Rancho, twelvethousan' acres o' perfectly beautiful sand.

  "And now that you folks have dumped a cargo o' freight here marked D.,S. & T., No. 1, I know we win. We're goin' to make this one o' theliveliest propositions in the West. Ragtown will move down here assoon as the big outfit lands at the buttes. City lots inRagtown--which later probably will be known as Tweet--will be worthfrom a hundred dollars to two hundred and fifty, accordin' to location.My engineers will be here soon, and we'll lay off the town site. I'vemade application for a post office, and by the time the papers comefrom the department there'll be plenty o' signers here. Concessionswill be granted at reasonable figures. Farming lands will be sold atfrom fifty dollars an acre up to a hundred and fifty, accordin' tolocation, depth to water, et cetera. This will include stock in thecompany's water right. Water will be developed up in the mountains, ona site that goes with the ranch, at an approximate expense of onehundred and seventy-five thousand dollars. I am organizing my watercompany now, and will let all old friends in on the ground floor, ofcourse. Water at Butte Springs, by the way, Ragtown's present supply,will cost twenty-five cents a head for stock, and five cents a drinkfor human beings who are recognized citizens of Ragtown, theTweet-to-be. Old friends, however, are hereby extended the privilegeof watering free of charge while life shall last.

  "So folks, we're off in a bunch. Keep your eye on Ragtown, metropolisof the Homesteader's Promised Land of Milk and Honey."

  "But how about your next payment?" asked Jerkline Jo. "If I'm not tooimpertinent, can you meet it?"

  "Right this moment," replied Tweet, "I couldn't even look like I wantedto meet it. But why worry for nearly three months more? Ragtown willpay it for me. I'll meet her when she's due--never fear. I always getout some way. My middle name is Millions. Gogettersburg is mybirthplace. You folks and Pete are my first failure in convincin'others of my shrewdness, honesty, and unbounded ability."

  For an hour Mr. Tweet told of his glowing plans, but he found itdifficult to convince either Jo or Hiram that he had success within hisgrasp. Not until the conversation worked around to the mountain-roadfranchise did Jerkline Jo realize that, in befriending Orr Tweet, shehad enlisted an ally who would and could help her.

  "Why, we've got 'em by the tail, girl!" he cried. "Just keep on payin'what they ask till Ragtown moves down here, which will happen as soonas Demarest gets settled. Then it'll cost this Drummond to travelacross Paloma Rancho exactly what it has cost you to come through thepass. And I'll get me a roughneck with a gun, too, and see that hepays. And if he eventually falls down and quits, you make him live upto that franchise and keep that road in perfect repair, or sue him, bygolly! Leave it to me, Jo. I'll fix his timepiece. Every sparedollar you get, you slip it to me to help me meet those payments.
It'll let you in on the ground floor, by golly! We'll make a millionout of it, Jo--you and me and the Gentle Wild Cat. And I'll show 'emhow to try and take advantage of a girl like you! Folks, the futurelooks mighty bright for all of us!"

  While they were conversing Blink Keddie's voice Came from outside thetent:

  "Jo! The trucks are comin' in."

  The three went out and joined the head skinner, who pointed far overthe shimmering desert at three dots moving along from the mountainstoward the Washburn-Stokes camp.

  "Poor fish!" Tweet said disgustedly. "They don't know what's in storefor 'em. Next trip they make, probably, Ragtown and the big camp willbe on Paloma Rancho, and then they're blocked."

  Mr. Tweet ate supper with Jo and her skinners, and afterward the outfitspent a pleasant evening listening to the promoter's rosy plannings.Even the most skeptical among them gradually became convinced that, ifhe could hold on and meet his payments, he might make a go of it.Early next morning they started back, passed the polite Mr. TehachapiHank in the course of time, and arrived in Julia without further mishap.

  Now came a period of inactivity. There were orders for goods to behauled, but a great portion of what was demanded had not yet arrived bytrain from the coast side of the mountain range.

  Such delays were expensive. Jerkline Jo could have made a profitrunning into four figures every month, allowing for deterioration and areasonable per cent on the investment represented, could she have kepther teams moving steadily, with the wagons loaded to capacity everytrip. As yet, though, with so few camps established, this could notreasonably be hoped for, and she had made due allowance for suchsetbacks when deciding upon her freight rate. She had chargedDemarest, Spruce & Tillou three cents a pound for the last consignment.

  The three trucks that they had seen returned. They were of two-toncapacity. More came in from the coast, which carried five tons, andthere was a fleet of five-ton trailers. Jo learned that Drummond hadmade a price of two and three-quarter cents, so she promptly met itand, by wire, notified Demarest to that effect.

  She was anxious to see the five-tonners in operation. She believedthat machines carrying a large tonnage would meet with seriousdifficulties in the pass, and also in the desert sand, in places. Butthey would make the trip so quickly that she began to have gravedoubts. They might worm their way out of many difficulties, and stillmake the camps while her teams were on the first lap of the journey.So far, she had seen nothing of her competitor, Al Drummond.

  There reached the Mulligan Supply Company a telegram from Demarestinstituting a standing order for baled alfalfa, and instructing thatall freight be hauled by Jo so long as she could keep ahead of thecongestion and haul as cheaply as others. Promptly, then, Jo loaded tocapacity with hay, and they were off again.

  Four light trucks had preceded her with case goods, for Ragtown'sstore, she supposed. But the remainder of the fleet remained idle atJulia, and seemed to have no business. Jo was reasonably sure that,for old friendship's sake, Philip Demarest would see to it that she gotall of his hauling, providing she could make deliveries to hissatisfaction. She thought that until new camps settled on thegrade--camps of bigger contractors who would buy their supplies directand not depend on Demarest, Spruce & Tillou--Mr. Drummond would havemany idle days. Then, of course, he might cut to the bone on thefreight rate, and Jo feared that, with the trucks eating nothing whilethey rested, Drummond might be better able to withstand a rate war.

  They were held up by the genial but exacting Tehachapi Hank at the footof the grade, as on their last trip. Jo paid cash this time, anddemanded a receipt, as ordered to do by Tweet.

  As the wagon train neared the highest point in the pass she noticedthat her whites and Hiram's blacks seemed to be lagging behind. Still,both teams seemed to be moving briskly enough and steadily. But theother teams were far in the lead.

  Then Hiram's wagon entered upon a system of hairpin curves, and fornearly fifteen minutes none of her skinners was in sight.

  She continued to wonder at the unwonted speed of the skinners ahead ofHiram.

  Just as she reached the outmost point of a bow in the second hairpincurve, she heard a dull rumble behind her. Looking back, she sawnothing unusual, for in this place the road wound about U's and S's inthe mountainside, and one could not see far along it, either ahead orbehind. Deciding that a tree had fallen, she dismissed the matter fromher thoughts, and gave her attention to manipulating the jerkline overan exacting piece of road.

  She worked out of the curves eventually, to see the other teams movingplacidly along ahead of her, but now she and Hiram had caught up again.

  She spoke about it when they camped for the midday rest. It was Hiramwho made reply.

  "I was wondering at their speed, too, Jo," he said. "The rest of 'emwere all way ahead of me and out o' sight for twenty minutes, maybe."

  There followed a bantering conversation on the relative merits of thevarious teams, with minute explanation by the foremost skinners as tojust why it was impossible for such miserable animals as the whites andthe blacks to keep in sight of the rest. And for the time being, thisended the incident.

  They left the delicately scented mountain country in due course andtook up the long, weary journey over the desert. When they were nearenough to the buttes to make out objects at their feet it became plainto all that the big outfit of Demarest, Spruce & Tillou had arrived andpitched its camp.

  Shortly after they became aware of this a machine was discovered comingtoward them from the distant tents. Then another put in an appearance,following the first. Jo now heard the cough of motors behind her, and,looking back, saw two trucks.

  The first machine coming from the camps swung from the road when itneared Blink Keddie and waited, panting, until the outfit had passedit. Only the driver was in it, a man Jerkline Jo had never beforeseen. He lifted his hat politely as her whites rolled past, and shethanked him for his patience. Then he moved his car into the road andcontinued on toward the trucks. Looking back, Jo saw that all threestopped when they came together.

  Now, from ahead, came the second car, and at the wheel satTwitter-or-Tweet. He signaled Keddie to stop, and the outfit came to ahalt.

  "Hello, Jo, and fellas!" cried the beaming Mr. Tweet, descending fromhis car. "The man who just passed you in the touring car is Mr.Richard Huber, one of our first citizens. He's Ragtown's firstmerchant. He's gone to direct the trucks to come to Greater Ragtownwith their loads. For, folks, Ragtown is moving in a body, with itstraps on burros' and men's backs and in wagons and flivvers to theTweet-to-be. Talked Huber out o' leasing, and sold him fifteen townlots, by golly! Half down, balance in three years--seven and a halfper cent interest on deferred payments. Man of discernment. I'llproclaim to the high, green mountains! I'm on my way to collect ourfee for allowin' the trucks to cross Paloma Rancho. How much you beenheld up for, Jo?"

  "One hundred and twelve dollars," she told him.

  "Just a minute. I'll hand it to you. Move on now, and I'll get backin the road and collect."