diff options
Diffstat (limited to '34296-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/34296-h.htm | 13018 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-059.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40661 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-072.jpg | bin | 0 -> 33234 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-134.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32847 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-202.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35788 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-308.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32672 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-359.jpg | bin | 0 -> 42576 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-366.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35373 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-em2.png | bin | 0 -> 7975 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-fpc.jpg | bin | 0 -> 28826 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 34296-h/images/i-tpg.jpg | bin | 0 -> 16445 bytes |
11 files changed, 13018 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/34296-h/34296-h.htm b/34296-h/34296-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ebdbd7 --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/34296-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13018 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta name="generator" content="eppg.py 0.88 (09-Nov-2010)" /> + <title>Ross Grant, Tenderfoot</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + div.figcenter {text-align:center; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;} + div.figcenter p {text-align:center;} + p.center {text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + p.caption {font-size:smaller;} + div.titlepage {} + div.titlepage p {text-align:center;} + .fs20 {font-size:2.0em;} + .mb20 {margin-bottom:20px;} + .fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + .mb05 {margin-bottom:05px;} + .fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + .c {text-align:center;} + p.tar {text-align:right} + a {text-decoration:none;} + div.toc {} + div.toc a {text-decoration:underline;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; clear:both;} + td.tcol1 {text-align:right; padding-right:1ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol2 {text-align:left; padding-right:2ex; font-variant:small-caps; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol3 {text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom;} + td.center {text-align:center;} + td.fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + div.loi {} + div.loi a {text-decoration:underline;} + td.tcol1i {text-align:left; padding-right:1ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol2i {text-align:right; padding-left:2ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + td.tar {text-align:right;} + span.h2fs {font-size:smaller;} + div.poetry {text-indent:0em; margin-left:2em; margin-bottom:.7em; margin-top:.7em;} + div.poetry p {margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;} + hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; margin-top:10px; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:center; width:40%;} + .mt40 {margin-top:40px;} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ross Grant Tenderfoot, by John Garland + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ross Grant Tenderfoot + +Author: John Garland + +Illustrator: R. L. Boyer + +Release Date: November 12, 2010 [EBook #34296] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSS GRANT TENDERFOOT *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i1'></a><img src='images/i-fpc.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +SLOWLY HE WAS LET DOWN +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='titlepage'> +<p class='fs20 mb20'>ROSS GRANT<br />TENDERFOOT</p> +<p class='mb20'>BY</p> +<p class='fs12 mb05'>JOHN GARLAND</p> +<p class='fs08 mb20'>AUTHOR OF<br />"<span class='sc'>Ross Grant, Gold Hunter</span>"<br />"<span class='sc'>Ross Grant on the Trail</span>"</p> +<p class='fs08'>Illustrated by <span class='sc'>R. L. Boyer</span></p> + +<div style='text-align:center; margin:50px auto;'> +<img src='images/i-tpg.jpg' alt='' /> +</div> + +<p>THE PENN PUBLISHING<br /> +COMPANY PHILADELPHIA<br /> +1917</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs08 mb20'>COPYRIGHT<br /> +1915 BY<br /> +THE PENN<br /> +PUBLISHING<br /> +COMPANY</p> + +<div style='text-align:center; margin:20px auto;'> +<img src='images/i-em2.png' alt='' /> +</div> + +<p class='fs08 c'>Ross Grant, Tenderfoot</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>To<br /> +<span class='fs12'>Mr. and Mrs. C. H. Tewksbury</span><br /> +whose life in the Wyoming Mountains has<br /> +made Ross Grant, Tenderfoot, possible, I<br /> +cordially dedicate this book</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs12'>Introduction</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span><span class='sc'>When</span> I went over the same route, some time +before Ross Grant traveled it, from Cody eighty +miles into the snow-capped Shoshones, I found +how welcome a "Doc Tenderfoot" would be in the +gold mining camp at the end of the route. There +was, in camp, the superintendent of one of the +mining companies, a man who had never had any +instruction in things medical or surgical, but who, +with a steady hand and a cool head, and an acquired +knowledge of "first aids," was often called +on in case of sickness and accident, as there was +no doctor nearer than Cody. Such a state of affairs +greeted Ross Grant when he arrived with his +medical "emergency chest" and his real knowledge +of the use to which its contents should be +put.</p> + +<p>Also, I found a certain "outfit" of men, not +McKenzie in name but in nature, waiting to +"jump" certain valuable "claims" provided the +owners failed in any particular to measure up to +the requirements of the law. Their intention was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +to do the "jumping" legally and not through +"gun play," which is becoming an obsolete custom +in that great state.</p> + +<p>Then, too, I discovered over on a real Meadow +Creek Valley–exactly the same place that Ross +found–a real "Dutch Weimer" afflicted with +snow-blindness, imprisoned for months at a time +in the little valley because of the danger from +snowslides on the mountainsides.</p> + +<p>And, by the way, if you should ever follow this +same interesting trail from Cody up into the +mountains, you would find "Ross Grant, Tenderfoot" +an accurate guide-book until you reached the +end of the stage route. There you would find that +Miners’ Camp is a fictitious name applied to a real +place. And if you should chance to be in camp on +the Fourth of July, you would realize fully the +difficulties that Ross had to contend against in the +vast snowfalls. For the year I visited the mountains +the glorious Fourth was celebrated by snow-shoe +races down the mountainsides! There are +snow-storms every month in the year there, but +Miners’ Camp is comparatively free from snow +during August and September.</p> + +<p>These are the months, then, when gold hunters, +"prospectors," are most numerous in the mountains. +I saw them everywhere with their "pack +outfits" bound on wooden saddles, seeking in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +rocks for indications of a fortune that is as elusive +in their business as the proverbial "pot of gold at +the end of a rainbow."</p> + +<p>But, although Ross Grant did not immediately +find a fortune, he found what is far more desirable, +the development of muscle, quick wit and nerve +in the situations which he was obliged to face and +conquer in these adventure-breeding mountains.</p> + +<p>"Ross Grant, Gold Hunter" tells of the hero’s +further adventures in the mountains and of his hard +won "find."</p> + +<p>In "Ross Grant on the Trail" he meets many +discouragements, but finally conquers them.</p> + +<p class='tar sc'>John Garland.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='toc'> +<table summary='TOC'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>Contents</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>I.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Born Surgeon</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_1'>13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>II.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Steady Hand</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_2'>34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>III.</td><td class='tcol2'>Doc Tenderfoot in Action</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_3'>56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IV.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Fourth Man</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_4'>78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>V.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Man Who Needed Bracing Up</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_5'>98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VI.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Men of Meadow Creek</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_6'>121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VII.</td><td class='tcol2'>Half-Confidences</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_7'>140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>Ross’s "Hired Man"</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_8'>159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IX.</td><td class='tcol2'>Surprises</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_9'>176</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>X.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Newcomer on Meadow Creek</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_10'>197</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XI.</td><td class='tcol2'>Meadow Creek Valley Misses Leslie</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_11'>216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XII.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Calamity Befalls Ross</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_12'>236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Search</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_13'>258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIV.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Perilous Journey</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_14'>277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XV.</td><td class='tcol2'>A New Camp</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_15'>297</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVI.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Ingratitude of Weston</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_16'>312</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVII.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Random Shot</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_17'>330</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Humiliating Discovery</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_18'>348</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIX.</td><td class='tcol2'>An Unexpected Victory</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_19'>363</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='LOI'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>Illustrations</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' class='tar fs08'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>Slowly He Was Let Down</span></td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>Map of the Meadow Creek Trail</span></td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i2'>59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>"<span class='sc'>What’s the Latest Word</span>?"</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i3'>72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>He Struck the Trail</span></td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i4'>134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>Beside the Dynamite Box</span></td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i5'>203</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>The Snow Hid It from View</span></td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i6'>309</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'><span class='sc'>Map of the Crooked Trail</span></td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i7'>359</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>"<span class='sc'>You’ve Paid for It</span>"</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i8'>367</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<h1>Ross Grant, Tenderfoot</h1> + +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span><a id='link_1'></a>CHAPTER I<br /><span class='h2fs'><span class='sc'>A BORN SURGEON</span></span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Dr. Fred Grant</span>, recalled in haste from his daily +round of professional visits by a telephone message +from his nephew, leaped out of his carriage over +the yet moving wheel, and, stuffing an open letter +into his pocket, rushed up the walk and into his +office, which occupied a wing of his commodious +house.</p> + +<p>A sight met his eyes which was not uncommon, +situated as he was in the midst of the coal fields of +Wyoming Valley in Pennsylvania. Stretched out +on the leather couch lay a man from the mines, +black and grimy, his right arm crushed. Two +other miners, also blackened with coal-dust, sat on +the edges of their chairs, their eyes following the +movements of Ross Grant, the doctor’s nephew and +self-constituted assistant.</p> + +<p>Those movements had been rapid and effective. +Again and again had this seventeen-year-old boy +been brought face to face with such cases as this, +and he handled it promptly and wordlessly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +Words, indeed, would have been wasted, as none +of his callers spoke English. He had quieted the +sufferer with a hypodermic injection of morphine, +stripped the injured arm, cleansed it, and treated +it with a temporary dressing.</p> + +<p>Then, with the bandages firmly in place, he had +gone to the telephone and patiently called up house +after house until he found his uncle.</p> + +<p>When Dr. Grant entered the office, he found +Ross calmly taking the temperature of the wounded +man.</p> + +<p>"He must have met with the accident at least +an hour before they got him here," the boy explained, +"for he was suffering awfully. I thought +I ought to fix him up before trying to find you."</p> + +<p>His uncle nodded with satisfaction, and bent +over the man. "All right," he commended briefly, +but his tone said more. Words were not always +necessary to an understanding between uncle and +nephew.</p> + +<p>The younger man was an abridged edition of the +older in form and feature. In movements the two +were alike only so long as Ross was aiding the +doctor on such an occasion as this. Then there +were in both the same alertness and quiet intentness, +the same compression of the lips and narrowing +of the eyes. But when the strain of the +hour was past and the miners gone, the boy’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +manner changed. The alert quality which characterized +the uncle at all times seemed to desert the +nephew, and his movements became slow. From +the born surgeon in embryo he became a rather +awkward, self-conscious boy.</p> + +<p>Throwing himself into a chair behind the table, +he drew toward him Gray’s "Anatomy," and began +reading at a line marked by a paper-cutter, his +closely cropped head grasped in both hands.</p> + +<p>The older man moved around the room restlessly, +occasionally glancing with troubled eyes at +the figure behind the table. Standing finally in +front of the window, he drew the letter from his +pocket, smoothed it out, and read it again.</p> + +<p>In front of him, in the valley, lay Pittston and +Wilkes-Barre, with Scranton in the distance, and +beyond, the sun-burned hills, almost hidden now +by the smoke from a hundred coal-breakers, and +by the late August haze.</p> + +<p>"Ross," began Dr. Grant abruptly, without turning, +"I’m afraid you are going to meet disappointment–to +a certain extent. I have a letter +from your father."</p> + +<p>The boy raised his head with a jerk. "Do you +mean that he forbids<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"No,"–the doctor turned slowly,–"not exactly. +He expects to send for you in a few days, +and will tell you himself."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span>Ross’s chin came up. "And I shall not be +twenty-one for nearly four years yet!" he exclaimed +aggressively.</p> + +<p>His uncle looked at him with more sternness +than he felt. "Remember, Ross, that he is your +father and that you owe him<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross interrupted hotly, looking longingly at the +letter. "I don’t owe him as much as I do you +and Aunt Anne."</p> + +<p>Dr. Grant made no reply, nor did he share the +letter. Putting it into an inner pocket, he left the +office, and presently Ross heard the sound of wheels +on the drive. Dr. Grant was starting again on his +interrupted round of calls.</p> + +<p>The boy leaned back and drew a deep breath. +His father was going to send for him, and would +then tell him–what? That he could not enter a +medical college? That he could not become a +surgeon? That he must fit himself for a business +career? His chin came up again. He looked +around the office lingeringly. It had been the +heart of his home for seven years. It represented +to him all that he wished to become. His father +was almost a stranger to him; his uncle had stood +in the place of a father since he, a sickly boy of +ten, had been sent from the city to gain health +on the hills which girdle Wyoming Valley.</p> + +<p>He had gained health. In so far he had fulfilled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +his father’s wishes. But, in addition, he had +gained a knowledge and been settled in a desire +extremely displeasing to Ross Grant, Senior, who +expected to train his only son to continue his own +business.</p> + +<p>"Grant & Grant" was the father’s ambition; +"Dr. Grant" the son’s.</p> + +<p>Presently Dr. Grant’s wife appeared in the doorway +of the office. She was a short, round woman, +with a laughing face and a pretty, bustling air of +authority. Stopping abruptly, she shook a chubby +forefinger at Ross.</p> + +<p>"All day to-day," she accused, "you have bent +over that book."</p> + +<p>Ross, his elbows planted on the table and his +chin resting on his fists, shook his head. He did +not look up.</p> + +<p>"I’ve been studying Gray on Anatomy, Aunt +Anne. Got to master him."</p> + +<p>Aunt Anne bobbed energetically across the +room, and slammed the volume shut. "There!" +she cried triumphantly. "Get out and walk five +miles, and strengthen your own anatomy!"</p> + +<p>Under her light tones and in the affectionate +touch of her hand as she ran her fingers through +his hair, Ross detected an undercurrent of solicitude, +which brought forth a counter-accusation. +Rising hastily, he laid both hands on her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +shoulders, and looked down from an altitude +of five feet ten.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Anne, you know what father wrote to +uncle, don’t you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grant’s eyes fell. "Better take a good +run over the mountain, Ross," she parried.</p> + +<p>Ross’s hands slipped from her shoulders. "I +see there’s no use asking either of you what he +wrote."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grant flecked some dust from the table. +"Sometimes, Ross," was her only reply, "disappointment +is the very best and most strengthening +tonic we can take."</p> + +<p>She turned away, adding without glancing back +as she left the room: "I do wish, Ross, that you’d +get out and exercise more. You would conquer +Gray’s ’Anatomy’–and all other difficulties–more +quickly if you would."</p> + +<p>"I guess you’re right, Aunt Anne," assented +Ross.</p> + +<p>"Yes," scolded Aunt Anne to her sister in the +living-room–but the scolding rested on a very +apparent foundation of love–"Ross always agrees +with me about taking vigorous exercise–and then +never takes it. Now watch him walk, will you?" +she fretted, looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>Her sister, busily sewing, paused with suspended +needle, and glanced out. Ross was going slowly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +down the drive, his head bent forward, his youthful +shoulders carelessly sagging, his long arms +aimlessly hanging, giving him a curiously helpless +appearance at variance with his large frame.</p> + +<p>"It’s Ross’s own fault," declared Aunt Anne. +"He doesn’t like to exert himself physically. Not +that he’s lazy," defensively, "for he isn’t. He +would work all night over a patient, and never +think of himself; but to get out and exercise for +the sake of exercising, and straightening himself +up, and holding himself, somehow–well, I’ve +talked myself hoarse about it, and then found that +he had been reading some medical book or other +all the time I was talking!"</p> + +<p>Here Aunt Anne laughed silently, and ran her +shears through a length of gingham, adding, as if +the addition were a logical sequence to her monologue:</p> + +<p>"It’s a mystery to me how his father can feel so +disappointed in him."</p> + +<p>"Disappointed in Ross?" exclaimed the sister +in a tone of wonder.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grant nodded. "His father sends for him +once a year, sees him for a day or two when Ross +is at the greatest disadvantage in unaccustomed surroundings–you +know the stepmother is a woman +of fashion; and the result is that he is so awkward +and slow and tongue-tied that his father–well," +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +Mrs. Grant bit off her thread energetically, "of +course, we feel tender on the subject because we +have had Ross now for seven years, and we think +a better boy never lived. But now the time has +come," her voice trembled, "when we must give +him up."</p> + +<p>"Will his father forbid his going to medical +college?" asked the sister.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grant hesitated. "No, I don’t think he +will forbid it; but he will prevent it–if he is +able," she added significantly.</p> + +<p>Two days later the summons from Ross Grant, +Senior, arrived in the shape of a telegram brief +and to the point. "Take night-train," it read, +"September first. Reach office at nine."</p> + +<p>"Ross," worried Aunt Anne as she straightened +his tie and hovered around him anxiously the +afternoon of September first, "you’d better get a +new hat in Scranton. This one is–well, I think +you better appear before Mrs. Grant in a new one."</p> + +<p>"All right, aunt."</p> + +<p>Dr. Grant extended his hand, and gripped Ross’s. +"Remember, my boy, that the telegram appointed +nine <span class='sc'>a. m.</span> as the time for your appearing."</p> + +<p>Ross laughed. "Don’t you worry, uncle," he +returned confidently. "I shall be at the office +before father gets there."</p> + +<p>But, despite his confidence, it was nearly ten the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +morning following before he stepped out of the +elevator of a Broadway office building and presented +himself hesitatingly before the clerk in his +father’s outer office.</p> + +<p>His hesitation was due to his appearance. His +hat, new the afternoon before, was soiled and +pierced by the calk of a horse’s shoe. His shirtfront +was also soiled and then smeared over by a +wet cloth in a vain effort to remove the dirt. His +right coat-sleeve was wrinkled, and bore marks of +a recent wetting. About his clothes lingered a +subtle "horsy" odor, which caused the clerk to +sniff involuntarily as he curiously looked over the +heir to the house of Grant before disappearing into +the inner office.</p> + +<p>When he returned he bore the crisp message +that Ross was to wait until his father had time to +see him.</p> + +<p>Ross waited. He retreated to a window through +which the sunshine streamed, and there sat, industriously +drying his wet sleeve. He pulled it, +and smoothed it, and stretched it, only to see it +shrivel and shrink while he waited. The clerk +occasionally glanced with no abating of curiosity +from the boy to the clock. Two hours passed. +Others waiting in that outer office grew restless. +They read. They took quick turns about the +room. They went out into the corridor, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +returned. At last, one by one, they were ushered +into the inner office, while Ross still waited.</p> + +<p>It was past twelve before his father sent for him, +and the first glance the boy encountered was one +of displeasure.</p> + +<p>"Did you come in on the night-train?" was +the elder Grant’s greeting.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The father frowned, and looked up at a clock +which ticked above their heads.</p> + +<p>"I telegraphed you that I could see you at nine."</p> + +<p>Ross sank into a great padded, leather-upholstered +chair. All about him were evidences of +luxury, but he was conscious only of his father’s +displeasure and of his own disreputable appearance. +He studied his hands awkwardly, and +stumbled in his reply.</p> + +<p>"I should have been here by nine, sir, but for +an accident which occurred on the ferry<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Accident?" His father’s tone softened.</p> + +<p>Ross looked at his coat-sleeve. "There was a +fine horse, a big bay that stood behind a truckster’s +cart. He took an apple. It lodged in his throat, +and he nearly choked to death." The boy hesitated +and glanced up. "I got it out," he explained +simply, adding apologetically, "I got awfully +mussed up doing it, though."</p> + +<p>"You!" Grant burst out, paying no attention to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +the apology. "You got it out!" He leaned forward, +genuinely interested. "How did you do it?"</p> + +<p>Ross warmed under the interest in the tone. "I +was standing in the bow of the boat, just over the +rail from the horse, and I saw what the trouble +was. There was no one else who seemed to know +what to do." He spoke modestly. "The horse +would have died before we reached the landing; +and so," simply, "I ran my arm down his throat, +and got the apple."</p> + +<p>"You did!" ejaculated Grant. He leaned further +forward. "And what prevented the horse +from chewing up your arm while you were after +the apple?"</p> + +<p>"A bootblack’s brush," Ross explained. "A +boy was rubbing up a man’s shoes near me; and I +grabbed his brushes, and got busy. One of the +deck hands helped me prop the horse’s mouth +open. I threw off my coat"–here Ross surveyed +himself ruefully, and left the subject of the +horse; "and I got pretty dirty all over. Couldn’t +help it. There wasn’t any time to think of keeping +clean. But after we got over on the New York +side the owner of the horse took me to a stable, +and helped me to clean up; but–I don’t think +it’s much of a success."</p> + +<p>Mr. Grant leaned back in his swivel chair, rested +his elbows on the arms, and fitted his finger-tips +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +together. His imagination, country-trained in his +youth, was supplying some of the details which +his son had omitted. He nodded his iron-gray +head, and narrowed his eyes, a trick common to +all the Grants when intent on any subject.</p> + +<p>"Quick work," he remarked after a pause. His +eyes were taking the measure of his son. "It had +to be quick work," he added as if to convince +himself that Ross could act swiftly.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get breakfast?" was his next +question.</p> + +<p>"I haven’t had any," Ross replied. "I tried to +get here by nine o’clock."</p> + +<p>A low whistle escaped the father. He arose, +and reached for his hat, which lay on the top +of a safe behind him. "We’ll go out to lunch +now."</p> + +<p>Ross glanced doubtfully from his father’s well-groomed +person to his own dirty coat.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, father, you’d like me to go out alone +so long as<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" interrupted Grant brusquely.</p> + +<p>As they left the room, he took his boy’s arm. +There was little resemblance between the two. +Ross had his uncle’s head with its high brow and +well-shaped chin, lean cheeks, and prominent ears. +He was taller than his father, but wholly lacked +his father’s energetic manner and erect carriage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span>"You graduated in June from Wyoming Seminary," +the father stated as they entered a large +Broadway restaurant and sat down near the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"No honors?"</p> + +<p>The boy’s eyes fell. "No, sir. I stood tenth in +a class of thirty-four."</p> + +<p>Evasion of the truth was not one of Ross’s +strong points.</p> + +<p>"And," stated his father, "it took you five years +to do a four years’ course."</p> + +<p>Ross looked his father squarely in the eyes, and +lifted his chin a little. The father noticed for the +first time that the boy’s chin could indicate aggression.</p> + +<p>"I flunked on mathematics. But I made them +up the next summer, and went on."</p> + +<p>Again Grant looked at his son attentively, the +son who retrieved his failure and "went on."</p> + +<p>"You’re seventeen," he said abruptly. "What’s +next?" The question, as both knew, was superfluous.</p> + +<p>"Medical college," Ross answered as abruptly as +the question had been put. "I am preparing for +the entrance examinations in the University of +Pennsylvania. I want to go down and take them +in January, and at the same time pass upon a +couple of subjects in the freshman year."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span>There was a gleam of curiosity in Grant’s deep-set +eyes as he put the next questions.</p> + +<p>"Haven’t I told you repeatedly that I shall +never advance one penny on a medical education +for you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." Ross’s eyes met his father’s steadily +but respectfully. "And I shall not ask you +to advance a cent."</p> + +<p>"But haven’t I forbidden your uncle, also, to +help you out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, and Uncle Fred has no intention of +helping me. He’ll keep the letter and the spirit +of the law you have laid down."</p> + +<p>"Well, then<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross smiled quietly. "But you have never forbidden +my getting a medical education through my +own efforts; and that, father, is what I intend to do."</p> + +<p>Ross Grant, Senior, found himself looking into +eyes which he recognized as strangely like his +own and shining with the same determination +which in himself had established a thriving business +and built up a moderate fortune. Never had +he been so interested in his son. Never had he +so coveted him for a business career. But, as he +ate a moment in silence, young Ross’s determined +voice seemed to be repeating in old Ross’s ears, +"That, father, is what I intend to do."</p> + +<p>During the remainder of the meal the elder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +Grant listened attentively to the younger’s plans. +To Ross this was a new experience. After the +first irritation over his tardiness, his father had +not once oppressed him with that sense of disapproval +and disappointment which usually sent +him back to his uncle with a buoyant relief at +his escape from New York.</p> + +<p>Still, he was not deceived. He knew that his +father’s summons had to do with the thwarting of +his surgical career; and he was prepared to argue, +persuade, do anything short of actual defiance, to +gain permission to work for the object toward +which all his inclinations pulled.</p> + +<p>As they made their way up Broadway through +the noon-hour crowd, a feminine voice behind +them suddenly piped out excitedly:</p> + +<p>"There he is, Kate, right ahead of you–that +tall, round-shouldered young man. He’s the one +I told you about on the ferry this morning. I tell +you what, he made all the men around step lively +for a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Ross suddenly quickened his pace. His face +flushed uncomfortably, but the voice of "Kate’s" +companion was still at his heels.</p> + +<p>"Why, he grabbed them brushes and was over +the rail as quick as a cat, and had that horse’s +mouth open before its owner even knew that it +was chokin’<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span>Ross, Senior, strode along behind Ross, Junior, +now in a vain attempt to keep up. He chuckled +in a sly enjoyment of the boy’s embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"He certainly can move, I see," he muttered, +"when he has something to move toward–or +away from!"</p> + +<p>But the mutter was lost on Ross seeking an +escape from that voice of praise by dodging in and +out among the crowd until his father lost sight of +him, and found him again only at the entrance to +the office building.</p> + +<p>When the two were again seated in the private +office, the father for the first time broached the +matter which he had called the son from Pennsylvania +to hear; and, had he studied the boy for +months, he could not have overcome his opposition +more tactfully and completely.</p> + +<p>"Ross," he began quietly, "I am not going to +forbid your going to a medical college this year or +any other year. To be honest with you, I admire +your grit. I believe it will bring you success. +And so, as I say, I am not going to forbid your +entering the University of Pennsylvania. But–I +am going to ask a favor of you."</p> + +<p>Ross’s eyes sparkled. His father swung around, +and, picking up a pencil, marked aimlessly on a +pad lying on the big mahogany desk.</p> + +<p>"Well, father."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span>"I am going to ask you to help me pay a debt +which I owe–and the payment will certainly spoil +this year so far as college is concerned."</p> + +<p>Grant paused. He did not look up, but he +heard Ross draw a deep breath. Then there was +silence.</p> + +<p>"Keep in mind," Grant began again, "that I am +not requiring this of you–I am asking it."</p> + +<p>"Yes–sir."</p> + +<p>The tone gave the father the uncomfortable impression +that he was assisting at a surgical operation +on his son, but he bent his head a little lower +over the pad, and traced figures more carefully as he +began abruptly on a seemingly new subject.</p> + +<p>"Have I ever told you about my Western +partner, Jake Weimer?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, I started business in the West without a +cent, and it was Weimer who gave me my start. +He was running a store in Butte, and took me +with him. I have managed to get beyond a start, +but Weimer never has. After I came East he lost +his share of our earnings, and turned prospector. +Ever since he has spent his life trying to squeeze +gold out of the mountains. Again and again he +has staked out claims, and I’ve grub-staked him +to the finish. For twenty-five years this has gone +on. So far, none of the properties have amounted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +to much; still, we hold them; there’s always a +chance of a rise in value."</p> + +<p>Grant drew straight, heavy lines on the pad as +he told the story of his grub-staked partner. He +fell easily into the vernacular of the gold-fields.</p> + +<p>"Four years ago Weimer went prospecting +among the Shoshones in Wyoming over near +Yellowstone Park. There he began development +work on some deserted claims, a few miles from +Miners’ Camp."</p> + +<p>Here Grant pulled a letter from his pocket, and +consulted it.</p> + +<p>"The claims, it seems," he continued, "had +been originally worked by two men named Allen +and Waymart McKenzie. They did the required +work for three years, and then threw up their job +and left Wyoming. Now they’re back again, +wishing, evidently, that they had never left."</p> + +<p>Ross nodded. His eyes had not left his father’s +face.</p> + +<p>"Weimer has felt from the first that he would +make good on these claims. He has sent me +quartz from time to time, and I’ve had it assayed. +It carries moderately high values in gold, silver, +and lead; but, as the camp is eighty miles from a +railroad, up among almost impassable mountains, +where it’s impossible to get the quartz to a smelter, +I confess I have paid but little attention to Weimer’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +work. It has seemed a waste of energy, despite his +enthusiasm."</p> + +<p>Grant suddenly threw himself back in his chair. +His manner took on a keener edge, and his tone +became brisker.</p> + +<p>"But this year things bid fair to change there +because the Burlington Railroad is surveying a +line from Cody, and a boom is in prospect for next +summer. Our claims have suddenly acquired a +new importance; they promise to become valuable."</p> + +<p>"Then," commented Ross in a low, constrained +tone, "Weimer will get beyond a ’start’ at last."</p> + +<p>Grant regarded his son keenly. He did not +answer the comment directly.</p> + +<p>"According to the law of Wyoming," he continued, +"one hundred dollars’ worth of work a +year for five years must be done on a claim, or +five hundred dollars’ worth all together within +five years, before the tract can be patented, by +which I mean before the owners can receive a clear +title to it. Now, Weimer has done four years’ +work all right; but this year, the fifth and last in +which he can hold the claims without fulfilling +the conditions of work to the full, he is failing +because of snow-blindness. It seems he had an +attack last spring, and was obliged to stay in his +cabin for weeks at a time instead of working."</p> + +<p>Ross cleared his throat. "And if he fails<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span>"We lose the claims, and the McKenzies get +them back." Grant again consulted the letter. +"Weimer got a man named Steele to write this–an +Amos Steele in Miners’ Camp. He writes that +the McKenzies are taking advantage of some +technicalities in the law. They have already filed +a claim on the tract based on their three years’ +former occupancy. This will clear the way for +them to take possession in case Weimer fails with +the work. Steele goes on to say that, if the claims +are saved, some one must come out and look after +them–preferably some one with a personal interest +in the property."</p> + +<p>Mr. Grant laid the letter down, adding slowly, +"If you go, I shall give you a substantial personal +interest."</p> + +<p>There ensued a pause. Ross sat motionless. +His gaze had left his father’s face, and was fixed +on the rug.</p> + +<p>"Now, knowing," Grant continued, "that +Weimer has set his heart on these claims, I can’t +desert him. That work must be done and the +claims patented."</p> + +<p>There was another pause. Grant looked at his +son expectantly, but still Ross neither moved nor +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Weimer is a good sort," Grant went on tentatively. +"You’d like Weimer. He’s a big man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +and jolly in every pound of his avoirdupois. Great +story-teller–stories worth listening to, what’s +more. You wouldn’t be dull with him."</p> + +<p>Grant leaned forward suddenly, and asked +directly the question to which his son felt there +could be but one reply in view of his father’s +appeal.</p> + +<p>"My boy, will you go?"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span><a id='link_2'></a>CHAPTER II<br /><span class='h2fs'>A STEADY HAND</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>In</span> the two weeks which elapsed between Ross’s +visit to his father and his start for Wyoming he +planned hopefully for the year.</p> + +<p>"Father has given me a free hand," he told his +uncle. "As soon as I can get the work done and +the claims patented I am at liberty to come back +home, and I tell you I shall hustle. I shall hire +as many men as are necessary in Miners’ Camp, +and take ’em over to Meadow Creek, where the +claims are located, and just rush that work +through."</p> + +<p>"I wonder," remarked Dr. Grant thoughtfully, +"why that man Weimer doesn’t hire it done instead +of sending East for some one to manage the +matter."</p> + +<p>Ross frowned into the open grate before which +the two were sitting. "Why, uncle, I never +thought of that, and father didn’t mention it. In +fact, he knows but very little about Miners’ Camp +or Weimer’s work, and you know he hasn’t seen +Weimer in years. All he knows about the business +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +is contained in a letter that Weimer got a man +named Amos Steele to write. Weimer, it seems, +can’t use his eyes to read or write. The letter is +very short. That man Steele is a mine-superintendent +out there. Father knows about the company +which he works for."</p> + +<p>"The very idea," cried Aunt Anne a few moments +later in tearful indignation, "of Ross +Grant’s sending that boy away out West to the +jumping-off place into the wilderness without +knowing the conditions into which he’s sending +him! It’s a shame. He’s our boy, and I don’t +want him to go."</p> + +<p>The doctor made no reply, but retired precipitately +to the office, where he had occupied himself +at intervals all day with fitting up an emergency +chest for Ross.</p> + +<p>The chest was a little oblong, hair-covered strong +trunk, which had held all of the doctor’s worldly +possessions when, thirty years before, he had +started to the medical college just as his brother, +Ross’s father, had started West for his financial +"start." Into this chest uncle and nephew fitted +all sorts of objects medical, from books to bandages.</p> + +<p>"When you’re eighty miles from a physician, +Ross, and shut in by snow-drifted mountains at +that, it’s well to have a few remedies and appliances +on hand."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span>"And, when you’re several Sabbath days’ +journey from civilization, with time to burn +on your hands, it’s also well to have some light +literature along," laughed Ross, tucking into the +chest Piersol’s "Histology." "I intend to make +my time count for myself, as well as for Weimer +and father."</p> + +<p>Aunt Anne, meantime, was packing another +and more modern chest, her tears besprinkling the +contents.</p> + +<p>"I have put your winter shirts and chamois-skin +vest right on top of the tray, Ross," she +sobbed as she bade him good-bye. "You better +put ’em on as soon as you reach the mountains, as +it will be cold there."</p> + +<p>"All right, aunt; I shall." Ross’s voice was a +little husky as he turned to his uncle.</p> + +<p>Dr. Grant was standing beside the vacated +breakfast table absorbed in filling a glass of water. +Carefully he brimmed it drop by drop.</p> + +<p>Aunt Anne peered through her tears. "Why, +Fred," she exclaimed, "what are you up to? +Don’t make Ross miss his train."</p> + +<p>Calmly the doctor added a few more drops, and +then turned to his nephew. His eyes narrowed +intently as he motioned toward the glass.</p> + +<p>"I want to test your nerves, Ross. Hold it +out," he directed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span>The boy smiled confidently, raised the glass, +carried it from him the length of a long, steady +arm, and held it there. Then he returned it to +the table without spilling a drop.</p> + +<p>The doctor grasped the hand that had held the +glass, looking earnestly into the boy’s eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ross, the hand that holds the surgeon’s knife +successfully must <i>keep as steady as this</i>."</p> + +<p>For a long, silent moment uncle and nephew +looked into each other’s faces as their hands +gripped. Ross made no reply, but in the expression +which leaped to his eyes the older man read +the resolution which satisfied him, and which +seemed a part of this slow, steady nephew of his.</p> + +<p>An hour later the boy was being borne westward +on the way to Chicago and the "jumping-off place +into the wilderness."</p> + +<p>At the same time his father sat behind his desk +on Broadway reading a letter postmarked Cody, +Wyo., and signed D. H. Leonard. It was written +in reply to a recent communication from Ross +Grant, Senior.</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall be glad to do anything in +my power for your son," the letter read, "along +the lines you have suggested. I see the wisdom +of your move, too. It doesn’t always do to refuse +a boy’s demands point-blank. It’s far better to +turn him from his purpose as you are doing–or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +trying to do, I should say, because, if young Ross +is anything like old Ross, he will not be so easily +turned. Yet, as you say, a little stirring up and +jostling out of his uncle’s beaten tracks may put +some new ideas into his head. This country certainly +bids fair to be stirring enough now to fascinate +any young man. It’s a good idea also to give +him a half-share in your share of the claims; and +I’m sure, if the railroad makes good its promise +of a way up to Miners’ Camp, the claims will be +worth working for. And, as a real estate dealer, +I don’t need to be urged to do my best to interest +him in the business of this vast land, the country +of the future."</p> + +<p>In Chicago a telegram overtook Ross. It was +from his father. "Stop overnight at Hotel Irma, +Cody," it read. "Leonard will meet you there."</p> + +<p>Two days later, early in the morning, the west +bound express dropped Ross Grant and half a +dozen other passengers at Toluca, in southern +Montana, a station with a water-tank and some +cattle corrals attached. Here stood the train which +by day plied over the branch road to Cody, and +by night returned to Toluca. It was a mixed +train consisting of freight and express cars with a +sleeper at the end.</p> + +<p>The half dozen passengers, reënforced by others +left by the east bound express, all men, transferred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +themselves to this coach. Every one except Ross +seemed to be more or less acquainted with every +one else. Ross sat silent, listening and looking +out on as much of the great West as was visible +from the slowly moving car. Across the windswept, +sun-cracked plain grumbled the old engine. +On either side were herds of cattle fattening on the +dusty dried grass, which looked to Ross dead and +worthless. Not a tree met his eyes, and not a +house.</p> + +<p>"Got the Western fever yet?" drawled a voice +behind him finally, and Ross looked around into +the good-natured face of a man who had boarded +the north bound express at Omaha.</p> + +<p>Ross shook his head decidedly. "There’s nothing +here to give a fellow the Western fever," he +returned, pointing to the flat yellow plain overlaid +by the dull yellow sunshine.</p> + +<p>The man lounged forward, his elbows on the +back of Ross’s seat, and grinned. He was apparently +about thirty, short and fair, with sandy +hair and mustache. He wore corduroy trousers +and coat, with a dark flannel shirt and turn-over +collar under which was knotted carelessly a broad +green silk tie. Hanging to the back of his head +was a brown, broad-brimmed hat, the crown encircled +with a narrow band of intricately woven +hair dyed in all the colors of the rainbow.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span>"I’ll tell ye what’s out there that gives most of +us the Western fever," he declared; "and that’s +money prospects. Sort of a yellow fever, ye know, +it is, except that no one wants to be cured."</p> + +<p>"Then I don’t want to catch it in the first +place," declared Ross, looking out of the window +again.</p> + +<p>Presently some one in the rear of the car lowered +a newspaper, and rumbled over the top of it:</p> + +<p>"You fellers rec’lect old man Quinn?"</p> + +<p>Some did; some did not. To the latter, the +speaker explained.</p> + +<p>"Used to live in Cody. Friend of Buffalo Bill, +old man Quinn was. Went down to Oklahomy +five years ago, and bought a sheep ranch. He +and some of the cattlemen around him got by +the ears over how much of the range belonged to +the sheep<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Here an inarticulate murmur sounded through +the car. There was a "cattle war" on in Wyoming +at that time.</p> + +<p>"Wall, one night two years ago about now, after +a big round-up at North Fork, one thousand of +old man Quinn’s sheep was driven over the bluffs +into North Fork River. All that old man Quinn +could find out was that four men done it. But +he kept a-tryin’ to find out, and got a <i>de</i>tective +down from Kansas City, feller who used to be a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +cow puncher himself; and he nabbed three of ’em. +They had had the gall to stay right there on the +range all this time."</p> + +<p>"Good reason," volunteered some one, "why it +took so long to land ’em. I suppose old man +Quinn was lookin’ for ’em among the punchers +that had left after the round-up."</p> + +<p>"Jest so," declared the informant. "He was +tryin’ to track up every one who cleared out after +the round-up–jest so."</p> + +<p>"How long did they git?" asked some one +further up the aisle.</p> + +<p>"Two years."</p> + +<p>"Sandy," some one across the aisle said to the +man behind Ross, "wa’n’t you down t’ Oklahomy +punchin’ two year ago?"</p> + +<p>There was a perceptible pause. Then a note of +irritation spoke through Sandy’s drawl as he answered +briefly, "No, north Texas."</p> + +<p>And, while the rest continued the discussion +concerning old man Quinn, he leaned forward and +devoted himself to Ross.</p> + +<p>Presently they came to the hills whose barrenness +and sombreness were relieved at intervals by +the brilliant coloring of the rocks.</p> + +<p>"Well," asked Sandy, "what do ye think of +this? It ain’t every day East that ye can walk +around the crater of an old volcano."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span>"Is this<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" began Ross, his head out of the +window.</p> + +<p>"This is!" chuckled he of the sandy hair.</p> + +<p>The train was crawling slowly around the edge +of a wide, shallow well, on all sides of which the +hills frowned darkly, stripped of every vestige of +verdure.</p> + +<p>"An extinct volcano!" ejaculated Ross.</p> + +<p>"Yep,"–the other sagged forward until his +laughing face was close to Ross’s,–"but just let +me tell ye right here, young man, that volcanoes +is the only thing in the West that’s extinct. +Everything else is pretty lively."</p> + +<p>Ross joined in the laugh which greeted this +sally all around him. The man opposite lowered +his paper, and looked over his glasses.</p> + +<p>"Volcanoes <i>and</i> hopes, Sandy," he amended +quickly, instantly retiring again behind his paper.</p> + +<p>Ross did not understand the significance of the +retort, but he noticed that several men around exchanged +glances and that Sandy’s face lost a fraction +of its good nature. And when Sandy’s face +lost its humorous expression, it was not pleasing.</p> + +<p>Dusk and Cody drew near together. The train +dropped over the "rim," and steamed along +through the Big Horn Basin, coming to a final +standstill in front of another station and water-tank.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span>"Cody," announced the brakeman. "All out."</p> + +<p>Ross, suitcase in hand, his top-coat over his +arm, stumbled out of the train, still swaying with +the perpetual motion of the last few days. A big +open wagon with side seats stood beside the platform. +At the call of the driver Ross looked around +interrogatively at Sandy, who was still beside him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we’re two miles from the town yet," +Sandy replied to the look. "Pile in. Train can’t +make it over the shelves between here and Stinkin’ +Water."</p> + +<p>Ross silently "piled in." Sandy sat down beside +him, and the wagon filled with the other passengers.</p> + +<p>Behind them, stretching back into the darkness, +their heads sagging sleepily, was a row of teams, +their neck-yokes joined by a chain, their heads +connected by a single rein running through the +ring at the left side of the bit.</p> + +<p>"Hey, there," called one of the men in the +wagon, "does Grasshopper strike the trail to-night +for Meeteetse?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," came a voice beside a lantern which was +traveling to and fro. "There’s a lot of freight to +pack up to Miners’ Camp; and, if it gits there +ahead of the snow, these freighters have got to hit +the pike more rapid than they have been doin’."</p> + +<p>A horseman dashed past the wagon and into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +circle of light from the lantern hung in front of +the station. Dropping the reins to the ground, he +swung his leather-enveloped legs off the horse, +and yelled at the station agent:</p> + +<p>"Have those boxes of apples come yet?"</p> + +<p>"Just here," replied the holder of the moving +light.</p> + +<p>"Can’t you start ’em up by the Meeteetse stage +to-night?" demanded the newcomer. "The boys +are about famished."</p> + +<p>"Them surveyors," complained the agent, "are +always hollerin’ for more grub. ’N’ no matter +how much ye fill ’em, they don’t go faster than +molasses in January. Ain’t got beyond Sagehen +Roost this minute, and they’ll probably be a-quittin’ +in a month."</p> + +<p>Ross pricked up his ears. The same interest +was manifested by Sandy.</p> + +<p>"Don’t you worry about our quitting," the newcomer +returned brusquely; "if the Burlington +Railroad starts out to run a track up to Miners’ +Camp, why, it will run one, that’s all, if the track +has to go under snow-sheds all the way up from +the Meadows."</p> + +<p>At this point the big open bus rumbled off over +the dust-choked "shelf" toward Cody. An unwieldy +swaying coach drawn by four horses passed +them on its way to the station.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span>"Meeteetse stage is late to-night," remarked +Sandy.</p> + +<p>On rumbled the wagon. Its brake screamed +against the wheel as the horses plunged down the +steep inclines which marked the descent from one +"shelf" to another. Presently a vile odor greeted +Ross’s nostrils, and at the same time the wagon +struck the bridge over the sulphurated waters of the +Shoshone, and began the climb on the other side.</p> + +<p>Ross was keenly alive to this strange new world +in which the convenience of the East met the +newness and crudeness of the West. Brilliant +electric lights illuminated dust-deep, unpaved, unsprinkled +streets. Tents stood beside pretentious +homes, and stone business blocks were rising beside +offices located in canvas wagons with rounded +tops. And to and fro past the wagon flashed +horsemen, cowboys dressed like Sandy except that +their corduroy trousers were incased in leather +"chaps."</p> + +<p>Sandy, watching Ross out of the corner of his +eye, grinned at the boy’s expression.</p> + +<p>"Buck up here, tenderfoot," he advised good-naturedly. +"This here is ’The Irma’; and, if +you’ve got any better hotels in the East, why, +don’t tell Colonel Cody of it, at any rate, for ’The +Irma’ is the Colonel’s pet."</p> + +<p>Then Ross found himself in the foyer of "The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +Irma," the hotel that "Buffalo Bill" erected to +honor his home town, which bears his name, a +comfortable, modernly equipped house decorated +with hundreds of paintings, water colors, and etchings, +all picturing the scenes in Colonel Cody’s life +as represented in his "Wild West Show."</p> + +<p>Sandy had registered in advance of Ross, and +stepped to a swinging door at the end of the +counter. There he stopped and turned back. +"Come on and have a drink, tenderfoot," he invited +good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>Ross was writing his name, and did not look +up. "No, thank you," he returned quietly. "I +don’t drink."</p> + +<p>Several men lounging about glanced curiously +at the boy. Sandy thrust his hands into his +pockets, and, leaning against the counter, looked +at him in open interest.</p> + +<p>After Ross had registered, he drew a nickel from +his pocket and laid it on the counter. "A two-cent +stamp, please."</p> + +<p>The clerk, impatient with the deliberation of +his movements, cast the nickel hurriedly into +the cash drawer and handed out a stamp. Ross +waited for the change, while three men behind +him pressed forward to the register.</p> + +<p>Sandy grinned broadly. "There’s no change +comin’, tenderfoot," he said with a chuckle. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +"You’ve reached a land where nothin’ less’n a +nickel can be got outside a post-office."</p> + +<p>"Pennies don’t grow in the Rocky Mountains," +added the clerk in a tone which plainly invited +the boy to move on.</p> + +<p>The tone brought the blood to Ross’s cheek. +His eyes suddenly narrowed. His head went up, +and his voice quickened and deepened.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," he returned coolly, "give +me another two-cent stamp and a postal card."</p> + +<p>Sandy patted his thigh softly. "You’ll pass, +tenderfoot," he murmured. "No flies on you–at +least, they don’t stick there."</p> + +<p>Ross took his trophies, and retired to a desk beside +the swinging door. Just as he had finished +directing a letter to his Aunt Anne he noticed +that his new friend was waiting again beside the +counter.</p> + +<p>When the last man had registered, Sandy pulled +the book toward him and leaned over it. Suddenly +he bent lower, and jabbed hard on the page +with his forefinger. When he turned, all the good +humor had dropped out of his face. With a glance +of keen interest at the boy beside the desk he +passed on into the barroom.</p> + +<p>So marked was the change in his manner that Ross +paused in the act of dipping his pen into +the ink-well.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span>"Guess I’ll see who Sandy is," he thought, and, +dropping his pen, crossed to the book.</p> + +<p>The name stared up at him in big bold letters +directly above his own, but he had not noticed it +at the time of registering.</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p><i>"Allen McKenzie, Miners’ Camp."</i></p> +</div> + +<p>Ross pursed his thin lips, and nearly whistled +aloud as he returned to his desk.</p> + +<p>"It’s one of the McKenzies who are after our +claims," he wrote at the end of a long letter to his +uncle and aunt; "but he is a funny, good-natured +fellow. I partly like him and partly don’t. He +has no six-shooter in sight–in fact, I’m told that +six-shooters have gone more or less out of fashion +in Wyoming; and he doesn’t look a bit as I had +imagined a ’claim-jumper’ would. But one thing +he may reckon on; there will be no chance for +him or any one else to jump the Weimer-Grant +claims in a few months."</p> + +<p>And, sealing this confident declaration, he +slipped the letter into the mail-box, ate a hearty +dinner, and went to bed.</p> + +<p>The following morning at nine o’clock D. H. +Leonard, his father’s old-time friend, appeared, +and greeted the son most cordially. Mr. Leonard +was a man of middle age, hale, red-faced, bald-headed, +and wearing a "boiled" shirt and collar. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +He was a dealer in real estate, with offices in both +Cody and Basin. It was to his office that he first +took Ross.</p> + +<p>"We’ll go for a drive by and by," he began, +throwing himself back in his chair and tossing +a cigar across the desk. "We have the country +of the future here, and I want you to see +it. Perfect gold-mine in this land once it’s irrigated."</p> + +<p>Ross picked up the cigar, played with it a +moment, and laid it again on the desk, listening +attentively.</p> + +<p>The older man drew a match across the woodwork +beneath his chair, and lighted his cigar. +"It’s <i>the</i> place for young men, Grant, a greater +place than it was when Horace Greeley gave his +advice to young men to go West–here’s a match," +he interrupted himself to say.</p> + +<p>Ross accepted the match, bit on the end of it a +moment, and laid it beside the cigar.</p> + +<p>"Don’t you smoke?" asked Leonard in some +surprise.</p> + +<p>Before Ross could reply, some one called Mr. +Leonard out into the hall. As the door closed +behind him, Ross arose and stood silently in front +of the open window. Beyond the little town and +beyond the level stretch of "shelves" arose the +Big Horn Mountains, miles away, but so sharply +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +outlined in the clear air that they seemed only a +short walk distant.</p> + +<p>As Ross leaned against the window-casing, some +one in the room adjoining came to the open window. +The stub of a cigar was thrown out, and a voice +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"But if Grant realized the situation, he’d never +have sent a boy out here to look after those claims. +And it looks as though it was his son–same +initials. But with such a boy and Weimer you +ought to be able<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>The speaker left the window at this point, and +Ross lost the rest of the sentence. In a few moments, +however, some one clattered through the +hall and down the stairs, with spurs jingling. A +horse stood on the street below, tethered only by +its bridle-reins dangling to the ground. From the +entrance to the building Sandy McKenzie emerged, +clad as on the previous day, except for a colored +handkerchief knotted about his neck. Mounting +his pony, he touched a spur to its flank, and galloped +away in a cloud of dust just as Leonard +returned.</p> + +<p>"Who’s in the next room?" asked Ross.</p> + +<p>"Over on the right?" asked Leonard carelessly. +"Oh, a lawyer has that office." He crossed to the +window, and glanced out just as McKenzie disappeared. +"Evidently Sandy’s pulling out for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +mountains," he observed. "Miners’ Camp, that +is."</p> + +<p>"Are there only two McKenzies?" asked Ross.</p> + +<p>Leonard shrugged his shoulders. "Two are all +that have ever showed up around here–Sandy and +Waymart; but they say there are half a dozen +more brothers and cousins, some figurin’ under +names not their own; but where they put up I +don’t know."</p> + +<p>Here he turned and looked curiously at Ross. +"I suppose your father told you that Sandy and +Waymart are sitting up on Meadow Creek waiting +to jump the Grant-Weimer claims."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he told me," answered Ross, and hesitated. +"Do they use guns in the jumping process?"</p> + +<p>Leonard laughed. "Not much! They have +other and safer methods of getting their own way +in case Weimer doesn’t do the work the law requires +this year."</p> + +<p>Then he glanced at the unsmoked cigar, and +repeated his question of some time before. "Don’t +you smoke?"</p> + +<p>Ross shook his head shortly.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Leonard looked at his old friend’s +son in friendly interest.</p> + +<p>Ross stretched out his right arm in an unconscious +imitation of the test his uncle had required +of him only a few mornings before. "It’s apt to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +get on a fellow’s nerves," was all the reply he +made.</p> + +<p>There was much to see during the day and much +to hear. Leonard took the boy for a long drive +up the caņon of the Shoshone, whose densely green +waters have a background of brilliant reds and +yellows in the sandstone sides of the wall through +which the river has cut. Up and yet up the +carriage went, with the walls rising higher and +higher on either side, the road a mere thread +blasted out of the rocks, up to the great dam +which was beginning to raise its head across the +river bed to hold back the water and distribute it +over Big Horn Basin through irrigating canals.</p> + +<p>Ross’s interest, however, during the drive was +divided. He was glad to see the vast "Shoshone +Project," as the government reservoir is called; +but his most active thoughts were following Sandy +McKenzie on his way to Miners’ Camp, and his +questions were of the Camp and Wyoming mining +laws and the conditions he would meet in this new +and strange land.</p> + +<p>But Leonard had never been up to Camp, and +was not interested in mining, but in ranch lands; +therefore, Ross got but little enlightenment from +him, and finally, ceasing to question, listened in +silence while the older man, in obedience to the +senior Grant’s request, did his best to interest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +the junior Grant in the business prospects of +Wyoming.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come down to Basin at Christmas," +Leonard said cordially as host and guest sat +down to dinner in the dining-room of "The Irma" +at six o’clock that night. "My home is in Basin. +It’s the county-seat of Big Horn County, you know; +and I want you to come down there. I want to +show you more of this magnificent country."</p> + +<p>Ross was grateful for this friendly invitation, but +made no promises; and presently the two were eating +in silence, Ross looking with interest on some +of the contrasts which were too familiar for Leonard +even to notice.</p> + +<p>Under elaborate and gaudy chandeliers was a +bare and not overclean floor. Looking down on +the thickest and heaviest of cracked china were +pictures by well-known artists. Seated around the +tables spread in linen, were bearded men in chaps +and overalls, flannel shirts and spurs, together with +those in tan oxfords and broadcloth.</p> + +<p>At the table opposite Ross, and facing him, was +a man to whom his glance returned again and +again. He sat alone. His square, unexpressive +face was relieved by a pair of fine dark-brown eyes. +The lower part of his face was covered by a stubby +reddish beard. His hair was brown, and fell +nearly to his eyes, giving him the appearance of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +having a low forehead. He wore a coat,–the first +of its kind Ross had seen,–a short, bulky affair, +with a high collar laid over the shoulders and lined +throughout with lambskin, the wool badly worn +on the collar. His chaps were of undressed leather, +with the long hair trimmed short save from the +thigh to the ankle. High riding boots, spurs, and +a sombrero, which he wore low over his forehead +while eating, completed his costume.</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" asked Ross.</p> + +<p>Mr. Leonard shook his head. "Man next to me +here said he rode in this afternoon on the Yellowstone +trail. Don’t know who he is."</p> + +<p>As if he felt he was under discussion, the stranger +raised his head, and his eyes met Ross’s in a quick +furtive glance.</p> + +<p>After dinner Leonard gripped Ross’s hand in +farewell, and left. An hour later there was a rattle +of wheels in front of the hotel, the sound of +horses’s hoofs, and a rollicking voice called:</p> + +<p>"Meeteetse stage. All aboard!"</p> + +<p>Ross, with a glance around the office which he +expected to see again before spring, picked up his +bag, and went out on the piazza. Here he stood +while his trunk and the emergency chest were +swung up behind the stage and roped. Then he +climbed up beside the driver, who was glad to have +some one near to help him keep awake during the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +long night ride, and they were off, only to be +stopped almost immediately by a man standing in +the doorway of a store.</p> + +<p>"Hold up there!" shouted the man. "Steele +is here, and wants to go on to-night."</p> + +<p>The name caught Ross’s attention. "Is it Amos +Steele?" he asked the driver.</p> + +<p>The driver assented. "Yep–superintendent of +the Gale’s Ridge Mine up in Camp."</p> + +<p>Ross leaned forward and surveyed with interest +the pleasant-faced, well-dressed, squarely-built +young man who came out of the store and climbed +into the stage. In his pocket Ross had the letter +Steele had written his father at Weimer’s request.</p> + +<p>"Git out of this," the driver requested briefly of +his four bronchos as the stage door slammed to, +and the four obligingly "got out" on a run.</p> + +<p>Just as they left the last house behind them, a +figure on horseback whirled by in a cloud of dust, +and Ross recognized in the sheepskin coat and +hairy chaps the stranger who had attracted his attention +during dinner.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span><a id='link_3'></a>CHAPTER III<br /><span class='h2fs'>DOC TENDERFOOT IN ACTION</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Besides</span> Steele, there were three other passengers +inside the stage that night. One was the assistant +manager of the Embar Ranch, south of Meeteetse. +He had been to Omaha with a car-load of cattle. +The remaining two were miners whom Steele had +picked up in Butte. This much Ross learned from +the driver. He learned many other things by +listening to the conversation between Hillis, the +manager, and Steele, although all the while he was +keenly observant of his surroundings.</p> + +<p>The stage was bowling along smoothly over a +road as level as a floor and flooded by brilliant +moonlight. Behind them Cody faded into silvery +mist, guarded by the huge shadowy bulks of the +Big Horn Mountains. Ahead, houseless and treeless, +stretched the shelf until the shimmering mist +cut off the sight. And in the distance, so far +ahead that sometimes he blended with the mist, +rode the horseman in the sheepskin coat.</p> + +<p>"Hi, there, Andy," called the ranch-manager; +"who is that fellow ahead?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span>Andy, the driver, turned, and looked down +through the open flap into the cavernous darkness +of the stage. "Don’t know. Didn’t find out. I +have seen fellers, though, that can give more information +about themselves per square inch than that +same chap ahead there."</p> + +<p>"I never saw ’im in these parts before," returned +Hillis.</p> + +<p>"Nor I." The driver spat over the flank of the +right wheeler. "Gid’ep there, Suke, ye slowmy, +you! Hike it, old Blue! Git out of this!" And, +having thus jogged the energy of the leaders, Andy +gave his attention again to Hillis. "Hain’t ever +set eyes on that brown chap before. I guessed +back there he was bound fer Embar. Looks like +a puncher."</p> + +<p>"I wish"–the assistant manager of the Embar +spoke forcefully–"that he and seven or eight more +were bound for the Embar."</p> + +<p>"Short of hands, eh?" questioned Andy, whirling +his "black snake" so skilfully that the lash +missed the heads of the wheelers, and touched the +flank of the nigh leader.</p> + +<p>"Short of hands?" Steele broke in. "Who +isn’t short of hands from Butte to Omaha–especially +in Wyoming? I’ve been out two weeks +advertising and hunting men, and here I am back +again with two only."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span>Ross turned half around in his high seat, and +grasped the low back. "Is labor as scarce as that +in Miners’ Camp?" he burst out in a brusque, astonished +tone which betrayed a personal interest.</p> + +<p>"As scarce as diamonds," returned Steele, adding +with a laugh, "and almost as expensive."</p> + +<p>Andy pushed back his hat, and surveyed his +young companion with curiosity. There was a +little stir in the coach also.</p> + +<p>"It must be"–Amos Steele spoke as if the +matter had been debated before–"that you are +related to Ross Grant of New York."</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned Ross, "I am his son."</p> + +<p>He was conscious of becoming an immediate +centre of speculation.</p> + +<p>"I wondered," remarked Steele, "when I saw +your name on the hotel register. Going out to +Camp, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Ross hesitated. "In answer to that letter +you wrote father for Mr. Weimer."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Steele’s tone was edged with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Come out to see to the work, did ye?" asked +Andy.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Andy glanced sidewise, and Ross caught the look +of incredulity.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i2'></a><img src='images/i-059.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> + +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span>"Expected to hire men to do it, did ye?" That +Andy was a general information bureau was due +to his faculty for asking questions.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," emphatically.</p> + +<p>The present tense of the reply did not escape the +listener’s attention.</p> + +<p>"Weimer has tried to hire," volunteered Steele; +"but it’s no use."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" demanded the boy.</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first place, as I said, there hain’t +enough men to supply the demand; and, in the +second place, no man in his senses is going away +over on the Creek, where he’ll be shut in for +months, when he can just as well stay down in +Camp, and get the same wages."</p> + +<p>"Shut in for months?" repeated Ross slowly.</p> + +<p>Andy explained. "Along about first of February +ye’re shut in fer sartain. Trail fills up, and +there’s apt to be snowslides any time on old +Crosby."</p> + +<p>Ross sat with widening eyes staring out into +the moonlight, and wondering with tightening +muscles what he was "up against." The vagueness +of his father’s knowledge concerning Weimer’s +work had not counted in New York. But here, +swinging along toward Miners’ Camp with two-thirds +of the width of the continent between himself +and his friends, Ross realized that this vagueness +had put him at a disadvantage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span>The two men behind him began discussing the +cattle market, and the stage slid down the side of +the first mesa of the Wyoming bad lands and into +the coulee, or dry creek, at the bottom. The level +road was left behind. Up hill and down plunged +the horses ahead of the rocking, tipping stage. +There was no regular road. A dozen tracks +showed the differing routes of as many drivers. +To Ross it seemed as if destruction were imminent +every time they came to the top of one of the +short, steep hills. But Andy jammed on the +brake hard, and, giving a peculiar little whistle, +yelled carelessly, "Git out of this."</p> + +<p>Presently Andy took advantage of the rattle of +wheels and hoofs to say to Ross: "Steele is boss +of the Gale’s Ridge work up to Camp. They keep +open all winter; t’other company shuts down."</p> + +<p>"Shuts down?" repeated Ross.</p> + +<p>"Yep, has to. Men go down t’ Cody t’ work on +the Project. Hard work to keep men in Camp +through the winter. When the railroad goes up +there, ’twill be different."</p> + +<p>Some one inside the stage struck a match.</p> + +<p>"On time, ain’t you, Andy?" asked Steele’s +voice; "it’s twelve-thirty."</p> + +<p>"Yep," returned the driver. "Here’s Dry +Creek."</p> + +<p>The road, a well-defined track here, was hemmed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +in between a creek-bed on one hand and a hill on +the other. On top of the hill, silhouetted against +the star-studded sky, appeared a wagon with a +white bellying canvas top. Around it, covering +the hilltop and the side clear down to the track +was a soft white moving mass that caused Ross to +give a startled exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Why–that looks like–it <i>is</i> sheep!" he ejaculated. +"Sheep by the hundreds."</p> + +<p>"Sheep’s the word!" returned the driver. +"This is Sheepy’s layout. That’s his wagon up +yon. He herds fer parties in Cody. There’s nigh +seven hundred of them sheep. Never seen such a +flock before, did ye?"</p> + +<p>Before Ross could reply, the stage swung around +a corner of the hill and Andy, with a sharp +whistle, drew up the leaders abruptly. They +were in an open space in front of the stage camp, +half cabin and half dugout driven into the hillside. +Beside the dugout was a low, stout corral, +outside of which were a haystack and a jumble of +bales of hay. As the stage stopped, the door of the +dugout opened, and a man loomed large against +a dim light within.</p> + +<p>But all this Ross did not notice at the time. His +attention was riveted on the horse just ahead ridden +by the stranger. Around and around it whirled, +unmindful of the quirt and spur of the rider.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span>"Pretty ridin’," remarked Andy, spitting appreciatively +over the wheel.</p> + +<p>The men inside the stage clambered out with +grunts at their stiffened limbs, and leaned against +the wheels watching. The man in the doorway +stepped out, and thrust his hands into his pockets, +and looked calmly while the horse placed its four +feet together and humped its back with a momentum +which sent the rider high in the air.</p> + +<p>When he came down, he settled himself in the +saddle, drew up on the reins, and dug his spurs +into the horse’s flank. The animal, his nostrils +distended and the foam flying from his mouth, +without any warning rose on his hind legs, and +threw himself backward. The rider freed one +foot from the stirrup; but the other caught, and +horse and rider went down in a heap. There was +a deep groan from both, and then silence. If the +men had seemed indifferent before, they made up +in activity now. With a flying leap Andy was +down from his high seat. The stage-camp man +rushed forward, and threw himself on the horse’s +head, while the others pulled the unconscious +rider from beneath the animal’s body.</p> + +<p>"Leg’s done for," Ross heard Steele say as they +carried the wounded man into the dugout.</p> + +<p>Ross clambered awkwardly down from his seat, +and followed. He nearly fell over an empty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +chicken-coop and into the one little room of the +dugout.</p> + +<p>"Put ’im here," directed the stage-camp man, +whom the others called Hank. He pointed to the +blankets in the corner from which he had crawled +ten minutes before.</p> + +<p>"Here, boy," Steele said with pale-faced absorption, +"smooth the blankets up."</p> + +<p>Ross, half dazed by his strange and unexpected +surroundings, slowly and clumsily did as he was +directed, and they laid the unconscious stranger +down carefully, his left leg hanging limply from a +point half-way between knee and hip. Then the +men straightened up, and looked at one another.</p> + +<p>"A bad job," muttered Hank.</p> + +<p>"Take ’im back to Cody?" asked Steele.</p> + +<p>Hillis shook his head. "Doctor there went to +Thermopolis this morning."</p> + +<p>Suddenly the daze which had beclouded Ross’s +brain cleared away. He woke up, and his whole +attention focused itself on the prostrate man. In +a moment he became alert, resourceful, and active. +His boyish hesitation fell from him. He threw +off his top-coat, tossed his cap with it to the uncovered +board table, and, kneeling by the man’s +side, laid his ear on the heart.</p> + +<p>"Go out," he said authoritatively to the astonished +men, "and bring in my smallest trunk. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +Hurry, for this chap will be conscious in just a +moment."</p> + +<p>No one stirred.</p> + +<p>Whipping out his jack-knife, Ross cut a strap +which secured the chaps, and caught one leg at the +ankle. "Help me pull ’em off," he cried urgently.</p> + +<p>Some one stooped to the other foot, and the +chaps were off. Kneeling beside the wounded leg, +with his knife, Ross ripped the trousers from ankle +to thigh, and exposed a bloody wound.</p> + +<p>"Compound fracture," he exclaimed after a brief +examination.</p> + +<p>Then he looked up. "Where’s that chest?" he +demanded. "I must cleanse this and bandage it +at once."</p> + +<p>The cock-sureness of the boy’s tone and the +sight of the skilful touch of his fingers on the +wound galvanized the two miners into action, and +in a moment the emergency chest was beside Ross.</p> + +<p>"Hot water," was his next command, as he +fumbled with the key, "and a small dish"–his +eye fell on the table–"that salt cellar, with every +grain of salt washed out. Quick!"</p> + +<p>The wounded man had recovered consciousness +now, and was groaning, and clinching his fists, +and rolling his head from side to side in agony.</p> + +<p>"Are you a doctor?" asked Steele incredulously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span>"My uncle is," Ross returned briefly, "and I’m +going to be."</p> + +<p>The answer, coupled with a view of the contents +of the chest and Ross’s manipulation of those contents, +brought relief to the men.</p> + +<p>He had produced a hypodermic syringe, and +with a tiny morphine tablet dissolved in the salt +cellar he began operations which lasted the greater +part of two hours, and employed every man present.</p> + +<p>"Bring in that hen-coop," directed Ross; "we +can use that for a double inclined plane to stretch +the leg over."</p> + +<p>Steele, who had so recently issued orders to a +slow and clumsy boy, now quietly obeyed this +embryo surgeon. Hillis was holding bandages, +while Hank and Andy were doing something +which filled their souls with wonder, namely, +making long, narrow bags from grain sacks out of +which wheat had been hastily dumped.</p> + +<p>"By the great horn spoon, what’re these fer?" +Andy demanded in an undertone, running the big +needle deep into his thumb. "Jehoshaphat!"</p> + +<p>Hank shook his head helplessly. He plumped +a stick of wood into his rusty old stove, and refilled +a kettle from a water pail which stood on a +box. Steele dragged in the triangular chicken-coop, +and laid it beside the wounded man, who was +moaning mechanically and drowsily now.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span>Ross arose, and set a bottle of alcohol on the table. +He looked critically at the coop. "The very +thing," he muttered with eyes alight. "How fortunate +that I fell over it coming in!" Then he +paused in thought.</p> + +<p>Miners’ Camp and Meadow Creek were forgotten. +Forgotten were Weimer and the neglected work. +A "case" lay before him, a man needing the help +that it was life for the boy to give.</p> + +<p>When, at last, the belated stage was ready to +move on, the men, again in their overcoats, lined +up and looked down at the sleeping patient. He +lay with the knee of the wounded leg over the +peak of the chicken-coop, padded thick and soft +with blankets, the leg held secure and motionless +between heavy sand-bags. Down the leg from knee +to foot on either side ran strips of adhesive plaster +with loops protruding below the foot. And attached +to the loops was a small bag loaded with stone.</p> + +<p>"To reduce the fracture," Ross explained briefly. +He was on his knees, measuring the well leg with +a tape measure from the haircloth trunk. "See, +this leg is longer now because the broken parts of +the thigh bone in the other have been driven past +each other, and the muscles have contracted, shortening +the leg. The weight on the foot will stretch +the muscles and allow the ends of the bone to meet +again."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span>"Jehoshaphat!" exclaimed Andy softly. "He’s +lucky to have you come trailin’ down the pike just +behind ’im. But see here, fellers," the driver +turned to the others; "yer Uncle Samuel will dock +me this time sure, fer the mail won’t reach Meeteetse +in time fer the stage up to Miners’ Camp!"</p> + +<p>"Miners’ Camp!"</p> + +<p>The exclamation burst involuntarily from Ross. +He arose. The tape measure dropped from his +hands. He drew his hand across his wet forehead. +He had seen the stage load prepare to go on without +a thought that he ought to go also. His one +idea had been the care of the nameless man on the +blankets.</p> + +<p>"Miners’ Camp," he repeated; "why, I ought to +go on!"</p> + +<p>"Not much," cried Hank in lively alarm. +"What ’ud I do with him and all that toggery?" +jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the chicken-coop.</p> + +<p>"Of course," was Ross’s decision in a low tone, +"I can’t desert him–but I ought to go on."</p> + +<p>A few moments later, Andy’s four bronchos +pounded up the hill beyond the stage camp and +disappeared, leaving Ross standing beside the window +watching. The man on the blankets breathed +heavily. A big yellow cat purred around Ross’s +legs. Hank poked the fire.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span>"Guess I’ll rustle some grub now," the latter +said in awkward solicitude. "Ye’re all in, ain’t +ye, Doc?"</p> + +<p>Ross turned from the window wearily without +replying, and for the first time looked about the +cabin.</p> + +<p>It was roughly boarded, with a hard dirt floor. +In addition to the bench, the only seats were boxes +in which "canned goods" had been stored away. +A pile of wood lay behind an old stove propped +up on boxes in lieu of legs. A cupboard containing +some tin cups and thick plates, a few pans +and skillets, and a shelf heaped with magazines +half a year old completed the furnishings of the +room.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Ross’s eyes lighted on the wounded +man’s sheepskin coat, which had been cast hurriedly +aside on the floor. Lifting it, he stepped to +the door, and commenced to shake it energetically. +Out of the breast pocket fell a small object. It hit +the stone in front of the door with a metallic ring. +Ross picked it up, and looked down into the photographed +face of a winning girl with smiling eyes, +curved lips, and plump cheeks. The picture was +a little oval set in a gilt frame. On the back in a +girlish hand was written the inscription, "To Lon +Weston."</p> + +<p>"Weston, huh?" came Hank’s voice at Ross’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +elbow. "I never heard of Lon Weston before. +Wonder where he hails from."</p> + +<p>Hank glanced speculatively at the sleeper, then +took a deep earthenware dish from the cupboard, +beat its contents with a spoon, greased a skillet, +and set it on the fire.</p> + +<p>"Men fergot t’ eat," he grumbled, "’n’ fergot t’ +feed the horses. They fergot everything except +him. They’ll be one hungry lot when they land +in Meeteetse."</p> + +<p>He raised the smoking skillet, and gave a deft +toss, which sent the flapjack spinning into the +air, turned it over, and settled it back with the +baked side uppermost.</p> + +<p>"Nice-looking girl that!" he muttered absently, +immediately adding, "Here ye are–flapjacks ’n’ +coffee!"</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon the injured man aroused +himself groaning. He stared at Ross with eyes +which gradually cleared as a realization of his +environment was borne in on him.</p> + +<p>"I say, Doc," he muttered, biting his lips with +the pain, "I’m all to the bad, ain’t I?"</p> + +<p>"Leg’s used up for a few days, that’s all, Mr. +Weston," returned Ross cheerfully.</p> + +<p>The man turned his head quickly. His eyes +widened and he seemed to forget his pain. For a +long moment he lay motionless looking from Ross +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +to Hank, who grinned hospitably at him from the +stove.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up down there," said Hank in jovial +strain, "the worst is yet t’ come, fer I’m makin’ +ye some puddin’, and even my mother ’ud say +that puddin’ ain’t one of my strong pints!"</p> + +<p>The sick man did not smile. He merely stared +at the speaker until Hank disappeared, a water +pail in hand, bound for the spring. Then he +threw out a hand toward Ross and asked abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Where did you get it?"</p> + +<p>Ross, turning a flapjack awkwardly, looked inquiringly +over his shoulder. "Get what?"</p> + +<p>"The name–Weston?"</p> + +<p>Ross smiled and then, partly because he was +embarrassed and partly because he thought the +injured man would be, turned his back before +answering, "A picture fell out of your coat and +I–we–saw the name written on the back, ’Lon +Weston.’"</p> + +<p>There was no reply, and presently Ross added, +"I put the photo back in your pocket and hung +the coat above your head there on the peg. Guess +you can reach it."</p> + +<p>Still no reply, and Ross, looking around, found +his patient with head turned away, eyes closed and +lips pressed tightly together in his beard.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in the open doorway appeared a figure +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +that Ross had not seen before. A shaggy head +was advanced cautiously within the cabin and +the owner peered at Weston curiously. Then, evidently +understanding his closed eyes to mean +sleep, the stranger backed out precipitately and +sat down on the bench outside the door. From +this vantage point he peered around the jamb from +time to time eyeing Ross and his patient in turn.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening," said the former as the stranger +showed no signs of speaking.</p> + +<p>The shaggy head appeared in the doorway and +nodding briefly, was withdrawn, just as Hank, +coming with the water, called, "Well, Sheepy, +what’s the latest word up your way?"</p> + +<p>It was Luther, otherwise "Sheepy," the herder +whose wagon crowned the adjacent hill. He was +Hank’s daily caller.</p> + +<p>"There ye are, Doc," exclaimed Hank entering +with the water. "Puddin’ fer Weston, and flapjacks +’n’ coffee fer you and me with cabbage ’n’ +spuds thrown in. Fill up."</p> + +<p>It was a menu which was not varied to any +great extent in the days which followed, strange +days for "Doc Tenderfoot," as Hank called Ross.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i3'></a><img src='images/i-072.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +"WHAT’S THE LATEST WORD?" +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span>Every night at midnight one of the two stages +plying between Cody and Meeteetse stopped at the +stage camp for supper and horse feed. Every noon +the other stage stopped for dinner on its return +trip. Between times, horsemen came and went, +occasionally, men from the ranches on Wood River +and the Grey Bull, miners "packing" their beds +behind them, prospectors going out of the mountains +for the winter, and every day during the +first week there was Sheepy. Sheepy usually +came toward night when his flock had been +driven in from the range and rounded up by +the faithful shepherd dog near the canvas-topped +wagon.</p> + +<p>One day, the last of the week, after Ross had +had a particularly trying time with his patient, he +left the latter asleep, and going outside, sat on the +bench in the sunshine watching Hank who was +repairing the corral. Presently Sheepy joined him, +first refreshing himself, as usual, with a long look +at the snoring Weston.</p> + +<p>"Once I seen a feller that rode like him and +looked like him, only his hair and beard," Sheepy +announced finally in a hoarse whisper. "I seen +’im ridin’ in ahead of th’ stage that night, and I +thought ’twas th’ other chap."</p> + +<p>Ross listened without interest. Sheepy filled a +pipe with deliberation and lighted it. Then, clasping +a worn knee in both hands he spoke again out +of the corner of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"That feller had hair light as tow and his face +clean of beard, but he rode the same and his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +eyes was the same. He was a puncher off the +cattle ranges. Used to ride past my wagon alone +about once a week headin’ fer town. Went in the +edge of the evenin’ always."</p> + +<p>"And where were you?" asked Ross still without +interest.</p> + +<p>"Down in Oklahomy. I was herdin’ sheep fer +old man Quinn."</p> + +<p>Ross looked at Sheepy with new interest. "I +heard the men on the train talking about old man +Quinn and the sheep that he lost. Were you there +at that time?"</p> + +<p>Sheepy nodded. "I sartain was. That’s two +years gone by."</p> + +<p>"And did you see what was going on–driving +the sheep into the river, I mean?" questioned Ross +eagerly.</p> + +<p>The sheep-herder shook his grizzled head. "It +wa’n’t off my range that the sheep was drove, but +another feller’s called Happy. He seen there was +four men done it. It was night–dark night, and +they didn’t stop to say howdy ner make any introductions. +They shot Happy’s dog and got away +over the bluff with a thousand sheep. They was +drunk, all of ’em, but not too drunk not t’ know +what they was doin’. Old man Quinn got three +of ’em. He’s been after the other ever since."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he’ll be caught?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span>Sheepy moved his shoulders helplessly. "Don’t +know. Old man Quinn he never lets up on a +thing. Took ’im two years t’ find three. Bet he +don’t give t’other up."</p> + +<p>"Why did they drive the sheep over the bluff?" +asked Ross.</p> + +<p>Sheepy frowned. "Cattlemen claimed the sheep +had crossed the dead line. Cattlemen are always +claimin’ that, and they push the line further and +further in on the sheep and claim more of the +range every year. They do here. They did down +in Oklahomy. The sheep owners and cattlemen +had a row at the big cattle round-up on the North +Fork. It was after the round-up, when the cow +punchers was feelin’ pretty gay and let themselves +loose, that them four drove old man Quinn’s sheep +over the bluff."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and then Sheepy went back +to the original subject. "The feller that looked +like him and rode like him," jerking his thumb +over his shoulder, "used to ride past when I was +shakin’ grub in my wagon. He used t’ go grinnin’ +mostly and starin’ at his hoss’ ears. And he +alus went with his fixin’s on, tan chaps and a red +silk ’kerchief ’round his neck and Indian gloves +with these here colored gauntlets. Oh, he struck +the trail in his good togs all right–bet he went t’ +see some girl ’r other!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span>This was the last information that Ross received +from Sheepy for several months. The following +morning there arrived from Cody a supply wagon +which replenished the sheep-herder’s larder, and +then, the sheep having eaten the range bare for +miles around the dugout, the canvas-topped wagon +was attached to the supply wagon and drawn to +another hilltop ten miles away. With it went +Sheepy only faintly regretting the loss of companionship +at the dugout. The seven hundred +sheep that his dog rounded up and drove in advance +of the wagons were the companions with +which he was best acquainted.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn’t ha’ been a bad idee," Hank remarked +when the last bleat died away in the distance, +"if Sheepy could ha’ stayed all winter. He +ain’t generally long on talk–none of them herders +be–but he was some one t’ have around, and once +in a while his tongue breaks loose."</p> + +<p>Ross drew a long breath and thought of Meadow +Creek.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon Hank resumed his repairs on +the corral, leaving Weston asleep and Ross kneeling +beside his medicine chest sorting its contents.</p> + +<p>The sorting done, the boy arose noiselessly and +closed the lid of the chest. Then, turning, he +looked down on the head of the sleeper. For the +first time he noticed that Weston’s hair, thick and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +unkempt, was dull in color and had a dead look +at variance with its evident health. Tiptoeing +across the floor he bent over the recumbent man +and gently raising a lock of his hair looked wonderingly +at the roots. The sight caused him to +utter an exclamation which disturbed the sleeper. +He straightened himself and stepped back precipitately.</p> + +<p>The hair was tow-colored at the roots.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span><a id='link_4'></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE FOURTH MAN</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Ross</span> stood motionless until Weston, muttering +and turning his head from side to side, gradually +came to rest again and fell into a deeper sleep. Then +the boy went outside and sat down on the bench.</p> + +<p>"It’s easy enough to put two and two together," +he muttered.</p> + +<p>Leaning forward, he dropped his elbows on his +knees and taking his head between his hands, +proceeded to do some adding satisfactory in its +results. He longed for the presence of Sheepy. +Now he would question him with interest on the +subject of the puncher whose face was free from a +beard and whose hair was tow color. He wanted +more information on the subject of that cattle +round-up and of the process of getting those three +guilty cow punchers. Still, he believed that Sheepy +had told him enough to make it clear that Weston +was the fourth that old man Quinn was after.</p> + +<p>"Some one that looked like Weston and rode +like him," Ross enumerated the points in the evidence, +"only the man in Oklahoma had no beard +and his hair was tow color."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span>What was easier than to grow a beard–the hair +was already accounted for–it had been tow-colored +before its owner stained it a chestnut brown. And +why should he have colored it unless for purposes +of disguise? And why a disguise unless he was +guilty of a crime such as driving old man Quinn’s +sheep into the North Fork?</p> + +<p>At this point in his reasoning, another fact +flashed into the boy’s mind–the strange way in +which Weston had acted about his name.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" exclaimed Ross aloud and then +checked his voice. "Probably he didn’t want us +to know his name, his real name," he thought. +"How all that dovetails together. If I could only +get hold of Sheepy now!"</p> + +<p>On further reflection, however, he decided that +Sheepy could throw no more light on the subject. +It was evident that the herder did not know the +name of the puncher who had ridden alone past +his wagon, for he had not connected Weston’s name +with the other. Nor would Weston, if he were the +same puncher, be likely to recognize Sheepy who, +as he himself said, was in his wagon preparing +supper when the puncher, his eyes on his horse’s +ears, passed.</p> + +<p>That night, when Ross rolled up in his blankets +beside Weston he was sure he was lying beside the +fourth cowboy of old man Quinn’s search. But in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +the cold clear dawn he was not so sure. It might +have been vanity that had led Weston to stain his +hair, tow not being a manly color. Then, too, even +if he had been on the North Fork, so were dozens +of other cow punchers. As to his name, Weston +would naturally have been astonished at perfect +strangers addressing him rightly where he believed +himself unknown.</p> + +<p>Ross, eating his breakfast, and only half listening +to Hank, looked down at the prostrate man +speculatively, his mind full of suspicion, but not +so sure as on the previous day that there was no +flaw in his reasoning. He had not had an opportunity, +the day before, of speaking to Hank about +the matter, and now he decided to keep his suspicions +to himself for the present.</p> + +<p>His suspicions, however, during the two weeks +which followed, were swallowed up in the anxiety +that attended this, the first "case" where he had +been obliged to assume all responsibility. The +care and interruptions to his rest wore on him. +Never had one of Aunt Anne’s hair mattresses invited +sleep as did the blankets laid on the dirt +floor when he found time to lie on them. Often +he fell asleep sitting on the hard bench, his head +on his arms crossed on the table, while Hank was +frying flapjacks and boiling thick black coffee.</p> + +<p>As for the patient, he accepted Ross’s ministrations +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +with but few remarks. As his thigh bone +began to knit, he became querulous, and finally +passively enduring.</p> + +<p>"When you goin’ to let me out of this?" he +asked on the day when Ross last measured the +injured leg.</p> + +<p>The boy settled back on his heels. "I have +sent for some plaster of Paris," he explained, "and, +by the time it gets here, your leg will be healed +and ready for a cast. Then you can be taken back +to Cody and let the doctor there see you. If it was +not for that ugly fracture you would have been out +of here before. If you’d only have the Cody doctor +to look you over now<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>The man grunted, and worked restlessly at the +sand-bag, which, on the outside of his leg, reached +his armpit.</p> + +<p>"Cody doctor be hanged!" he remarked unaffably. +"He don’t know half as much as you do."</p> + +<p>It was the nearest approach to thanks or praise +he had given Ross.</p> + +<p>"That Cody doctor ain’t worth shucks," confirmed +Hank, who occupied a box beside the stove. +"He tended a feller that I knew, and let ’im die." +The speaker looked from Ross to his patient with +an expression which plainly said that the former +could not be guilty of any such charge.</p> + +<p>The brown eyes of the patient rolled slowly in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +their sockets until their gaze could rest on Ross. +Then the lids dropped over them. "The Cody +doctor be hanged!" he remarked again more +affably, and fell asleep.</p> + +<p>Ross continued to sit on his heels until his +patient commenced to snore. Then he glanced at +the occupant of the box seat and asked softly:</p> + +<p>"Hank, has Weston ever told you where he +came from?"</p> + +<p>"Nope," responded Hank absently. "Not where +he hails from ner where he’s started fer, ner why, +ner what fer. That’s nothin’ though, Doc." Here +Hank looked sidewise at Ross. "You’ll find, if +ye stay in these parts long, that there’s lots of +men who ain’t partin’ with every fact they know +within ten minutes after ye’re introduced to ’em. +And you’ll find, too, that it ain’t always healthy to +ask questions. Ye have th’ sort of sense who ye can +question and who ye can’t."</p> + +<p>"And this fellow<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" Ross jerked his head +in the direction of the sleeper.</p> + +<p>Hank yawned and reached for the poker and a +stick of wood. "I ain’t aimin’ to inquire fer into +his history–unless I could inquire of some one +else besides himself, that is. Hello!" he interrupted +himself suddenly with the stick held over +the stove. "Who’s that hikin’ over the Creek?"</p> + +<p>Ross arose with alacrity and went to the door. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +The first snow had fallen on the bad lands, but in +an hour it had been whisked away by a warm +northwest wind, leaving the ground soft and a +little stream of water in Dry Creek across which +rode a man who proved to be a prospector from +the mountains.</p> + +<p>"Must have had a bit of snow here," he called +as he turned his horse into the corral. "Up t’ +Miners’ Camp it’s two inches deep and driftin’."</p> + +<p>As this prospector was eating his dinner, he +most unexpectedly gave Ross his first news of +Weimer. The boy, finding Hank both intelligent +and sympathetic, had talked freely concerning his +mission in the mountains and his desire to return +East at an early date. To the latter subject, in all +its details of study and college-attendance, Hank +listened and questioned in open interest. But, +when Ross touched the subject of Weimer and the +McKenzies, the other was non-committal and +guarded, as became a landlord who might be +called upon any day to serve flapjacks and coffee +to all of the parties under discussion.</p> + +<p>"I hope," he had observed cautiously on two or +three occasions, "that you’ll get on all right with +Uncle Jake Weimer."</p> + +<p>And, although his tone implied a doubt, Ross +could not prevail on him to explain it.</p> + +<p>But the prospector, who had ridden through +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +from the mountains, and knew nothing of Ross or +of his origin, spoke more freely. He had passed +along Meadow Creek but a few days before.</p> + +<p>"Dutch Weimer," he told Hank as he bolted +boiled cabbage and flapjacks, "was settin’ at the +door of his shack, a-smokin’ as though his claims +was all patented and secure. He says that Eastern +pal of hisn is a-sendin’ some one t’ help ’im out."</p> + +<p>Hank coughed behind his hand, and motioned +toward Ross, busy with his patient; but at first the +prospector was too intent on his food to notice.</p> + +<p>"And there," he observed with a chuckle, "are +them two McKenzie boys a-settin’ on their claims +next door and waitin’." He gave another chuckle. +"Curious how that snow-blindness should have +touched Dutch Weimer."</p> + +<p>Then he saw Hank’s restraining gesture, and +paused. Glancing down, he met Lon Weston’s +veiled brown eyes and Ross’s wide gray ones; but +the prospector had suddenly become as non-committal +as Hank himself, nor did Ross’s persistent +questioning wring from him any further details. +He had but passed that way, he assured Ross, had +stopped but a moment in front of Weimer’s cabin +and that was all.</p> + +<p>But what he had said was enough to leave Ross +troubled, and impatient to start for Meadow Creek +and his delayed work.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span>Finally the plaster of Paris came. The stage +from Cody brought it one noon, and Ross’s spirits +arose at the prospect of release from his unwelcome +charge.</p> + +<p>"If it wa’n’t fer yer Uncle Samuel’s long arm of +the law, Doc," the stage-driver informed him as +he was disposing of potatoes and pork, "I’d leave +my stage right here and see ye wind all them stiff +rags around that there leg. I’d like t’ see th’ +finish s’ long as I seen the beginnin’. But the +trouble with bein’ stage skinner is, ye’ve got t’ +hike along no matter what shows ye come acrost +on the trail. Hand them spuds acrost, Doc, will +ye? Hank, if ye’d let ’em smell fire a minute ’r +two mebby I could drive my fork int’ ’em."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, he arose from the bench, +drew the back of his hand across his mouth and +addressed Weston. "Wall, I suppose you’ll be +ready t’ be boosted onto the stage when I come +back in th’ mornin’? S’ long."</p> + +<p>Scarcely had his four bronchos topped the hill +on the further side of Dry Creek before a procession, +the like of which Ross had never seen, appeared +on the trail the other side of the dugout. +It was a pack outfit on horses accompanied by a +man and a boy. It slowly rounded the shoulder +of the hill behind the corral. The man rode ahead +whistling gaily, his sombrero pulled low over his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +eyes, a purple tie knotted under the turn-over collar +of his flannel shirt. His horse’s tail was tied +to a rope which, in turn, was tied loosely about the +neck of the first pack animal. In similar fashion +the five bronchos were held together on the trail, +and after them came a horse ridden by a boy about +Ross’s height. On the pack animals were wooden +saddles piled high with supplies for a camp, boxes +and bags securely roped to the saddles.</p> + +<p>Hank, in the act of clearing the dishes from the +bare board table, stopped with a platter of boiled +turnip and pork suspended in the air. "By the +great horn spoon!" he yelled, "if there don’t come +Wishin’ Wilson! And a pack outfit! Is my eyes +a-foolin’ me? Doc, look out. Is it a five bronc +outfit, or ain’t it?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly is," confirmed Ross.</p> + +<p>He arose from his seat on the floor where he was +working in the plaster and stepped to the door. +But Hank was before him holding up the platter +of food.</p> + +<p>"Hey, there, Wishin’! Here’s some come-backs +hot fer ye! Where’d ye come from? Where ye +goin’ and what fer and how long and why and all +the rest?" Evidently the newcomer was one of +the kind that could safely be questioned, for Hank +turned himself into a great interrogation point as +he set the platter down, and rushing out, pulled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +the stranger from his horse, shaking him in familiar +bear play.</p> + +<p>Ross watched while the train filed slowly up to +the dugout, bringing the boy’s mount to rest in +front of the door.</p> + +<p>The young rider wore a new brown corduroy +suit, and a long fur coat, the skirts of which were +drawn up awkwardly above a pair of high riding +boots and tucked under the rider’s legs. A pair of +shining silver spurs adorned the heels of the boots, +while a sealskin cap crowned a head covered with +closely cropped hair darker than Ross’s. His eyes +also were darker and his figure, although of the +same height, was more slender than Ross’s. He was +also, apparently, a couple of years younger.</p> + +<p>The two boys nodded at each other, Ross with +awkward cordiality and interest, the stranger +carelessly and with unmistakable condescension. +Swinging himself out of the saddle he said pleasantly +but commandingly:</p> + +<p>"Take my coat inside, please."</p> + +<p>He shed his fur coat and pulled off his fur-lined +gloves and tossed both into Ross’s arms, while +Hank, watching the proceeding out of the tail of +an amused eye, talked with Wilson.</p> + +<p>Ross, biting his lips, backed into the shack and +tossed coat and gloves on the end of the table near +Weston. The boy, following his moves from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +doorway, pointed at the prostrate man, asking in +a surprised and subdued voice:</p> + +<p>"What ails him?"</p> + +<p>"Broke his leg," responded Ross shortly, not +relishing the touch of lordliness in the other’s +manner.</p> + +<p>"How did he do it?" demanded the stranger.</p> + +<p>"Horse fell on him," answered Ross, and returned +abruptly to his work with the plaster.</p> + +<p>Weston lay with his blanket drawn up to his +chin and one arm thrown over his face and ear, +his face turned to the wall. He was breathing +regularly as though in sleep, although Ross knew +he was wide awake. This was a favorite position +with him when Hank was entertaining guests. It +saved him the trouble of responding to inquiries, +and, as Ross had come to suspect, might also serve +to avert a chance recognition.</p> + +<p>Presently Wilson approached the dugout, leaving +the boy in the corral rubbing down his mount. +One arm was thrown in rough affection over Hank’s +shoulder while the two pulled each other about like +two boys at play.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Hank!" Wilson exclaimed at the +door, "this is what ye might call God’s country, +and I always have a feelin’ of gettin’ home in these +parts. But, Jehoshaphat! it didn’t look a spell +ago as if I’d ever strike the trail to the mountains +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +again. It looked like as if I’d have to throw up +my claims and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Sh!" interrupted Hank tiptoeing into the +shack. "Guess he’s asleep, ain’t he?" He explained +over his shoulder in a hoarse whisper. +"Chap named Weston that come this way three +weeks ago and bust his leg out in front, here. +Hoss fell on him."</p> + +<p>Wilson, who followed at Hank’s heels, looked +Weston over with friendly but detached interest. +"On the mend, is he?" asked the newcomer subduing +his voice with difficulty.</p> + +<p>Hank forgot to continue his whisper. "You +bet!" he exclaimed heartily. "Doc here is +a-mendin’ him t’ beat anything I ever seen from a +full sized doctor." He jerked his thumb toward +Ross. "Doc’s goin’ to have him all plastered up +and out of here to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Wishing looked at Ross with a pleasant nod, +stepped over the bench and was about to seat himself +at the table when he bethought him suddenly +of his riding companion. Leaning forward he +looked out of the doorway. Then with a nod he +sat down and forgetting that Weston was supposedly +sleeping, raised his voice again to its +normal high key.</p> + +<p>"Fetch on them come-backs, Hank. My pard’ll +be here in a minute. I need t’ git the start of him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +in eating always, fer he ain’t long on grub such as +we shake out here. I expect," with an amused +chuckle, "that it ain’t exactly what he’s used to."</p> + +<p>Hank slapped his knee and leaned forward. +"Say, Wishin’, how d’ye come t’ be hikin’ over +the country with Queen Victory’s youngest? My +eyes! Ain’t he a reg’lar ornament t’ th’ landscape?"</p> + +<p>Wishing Wilson laughed softly and then glancing +hastily from Ross to Weston, shook his head +at Hank. "Less is all right!" he declared cautiously. +"He’s young yet. Lots of time to learn–more +time ’n you and me have, Hank."</p> + +<p>Hank set coffee before his guest, asking, "Who +is he and where does he hail from?"</p> + +<p>Wilson squared himself before the table, both +arms resting thereon and began to eat noisily, talking +between knifefuls.</p> + +<p>"Luckiest thing for me that ever struck the +trail, that young feller is," he began. "I was +stranded down in Omaha without a red cent in +my pocket and no way of raisin’ one. If you’ll +believe me I couldn’t find a man in Omaha with +brains enough to believe in them claims of mine, +no, not with the ore assay report before their eyes. +I tell ye, Hank, times have changed down in +Omaha. There wa’n’t no grub-stakers waitin’ +around like there used to be fer prospectors to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +snatch up–no, not one. And just as I was gettin’ +plum used up talkin’, this young feller, Less +Jones, fell onto me outer a clear sky. It was in a +hotel where I went t’ talk with a drummer, but +not t’ eat. Why, Hank, yer Uncle Wilson didn’t +have the price of a hotel dinner handy, and that +drummer never treated me! Well, I stood tryin’ +to persuade him that his salary was burning fer +investment in my claims, when in comes Less and +lined up ’longside me listenin’. I hadn’t any +kind of objection to his hearin’, but he looked like +such a cub that I never paid no attention t’ ’im, +but when the drummer said a final ’Nix,’ Less he +stepped up and asked me about the claims, and, t’ +make a long story short, before the end of the day +I was hikin’ over town hot footed on the trail of +supplies with Less at my heels with an open +pocketbook."</p> + +<p>"Does he stay up t’ the Creek with you?" asked +Hank wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Says he will," laughed Wilson. "Says he’s +wanted for years t’ try his luck with quartz!"</p> + +<p>"Must ’a’ begun wantin’ then when he was a +baby," remarked Hank succinctly. "Where’s his +ma and pa?"</p> + +<p>Wishing shrugged his shoulders and balanced a +quantity of pork and potatoes on the blade of his +knife. "Search me! He says there’s no one to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +hender him doin’ what he pleases, and so I take it +he’s dropped out of some fairy orphanage som’ers +where they have gold t’ burn. I’m fallin’ on his +neck more’n I’m askin’ him questions that he don’t +want t’ answer. Less is an all right sort, you’ll +find, but he ain’t long on information."</p> + +<p>At this point Wishing’s garrulity suffered an interruption +from the entrance of his young partner.</p> + +<p>Leslie Jones walked with the erect bearing that +Aunt Anne coveted for Ross. Buttoning his short +corduroy jacket over a soft flannel shirt, across the +front of which was suspended a large gold chain, +he ran his fingers around inside his collar and +looked about impatiently.</p> + +<p>Ross, attending strictly to his work, did not +look up. Hank, sitting on a bench opposite +Wilson, spread his elbows yet further apart on the +table and indicated a place beside him.</p> + +<p>"Set down and fall to, young feller!"</p> + +<p>"I’ll wash up first," returned Leslie in a tone +which had a decided edge. His manner plainly +indicated his desire to be waited on.</p> + +<p>Hank raised his eyebrows and waved a hand +vaguely toward the stove. "There’s pans ’n’ +water. Help yerself. Guess there’s a towel hikin’ +about som’ers in the corner. My dozen best handmade +’uns ain’t come in yet from the laundry!"</p> + +<p>Every one laughed except Weston and Leslie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +The former breathed regularly, apparently unconscious +of all that was said and done in the room. +The latter flushed, and plunging into the corner +tumbled the pans about angrily like a spoiled +child, spilling as much water on the floor as he +could. Then he sat down beside his partner and +asked shortly for some hot coffee, with an emphasis +on the adjective.</p> + +<p>Hank leisurely pushed the coffee-pot across the +table. "Help yerself. This was hot a spell ago +and will be again at supper time." Hank’s voice +having acquired an edge by this time, "Victory’s +youngest" poured the coffee angrily but wordlessly +into his thick cup and ate in silence, listening to +Wilson, who was too much occupied with a vision +of riches to come to allow such scenes to disturb +his equanimity.</p> + +<p>"As I told Less," he went on, raising his voice +to drown opposition, "we’ll leave part of the sticks +and the grub up the caņon to the coal claims and +then when it comes winter and the mountains are +impassable, we’ll just strike the trail over from the +Creek to the caņon and work the coal till things +open up in the spring. That Creek is a mean place +to drop into this late."</p> + +<p>"What Creek?" asked Ross, suddenly awakening +to the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Meadow Creek," returned Wishing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span>"That’s where Doc is bound fer, Wishing’," +volunteered Hank. "Doc is come out t’ help +Jake Weimer."</p> + +<p>Wishing surveyed the boy with cordial eyes. +"Jake Weimer, hey? We’ll be neighbors, then. +My claims ain’t two miles up the Creek."</p> + +<p>"Doc, he’s Grant’s boy," supplemented Hank. +"But I bet my last year’s hat that he can’t mine +it as well as he can doctor."</p> + +<p>"Doctor!" exclaimed Leslie Jones curiously. +"Are you a doctor?"</p> + +<p>"He’s fixed him up all right," interrupted Hank +pointing to Weston. "Stretched his leg over my +best chicken-coop and needled his arm and made +’im walk a chalk line generally. Oh, I tell ye +Doc is better than the Cody doctor."</p> + +<p>Ross laughed. "I know something about medicine +and surgery," he confessed. "I’ve read and +helped my uncle, Dr. Grant. That’s all."</p> + +<p>"All!" echoed Leslie Jones. His manner was +touched with disbelief as he looked from Weston +to Ross. "And did you, alone, set a leg?"</p> + +<p>Ross sought to change the subject. "Aw–that’s +not much–when you know how. I’m glad I’m +to have neighbors up on Meadow Creek. Hope I +don’t have to stay there any longer than you do."</p> + +<p>"Expect to clean up the title this year, do you?" +asked Wilson.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span>"That’s what I came for."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I can say now is that you’ll be mighty +glad you come. I tell ye what, Doc, Meadow Creek +is the mining deestrict of the future," whereupon +Wishing launched on a glowing account of the +future of Meadow Creek claims as he saw the +future. His eyes lighted up and he forgot to eat +as he told of the wonderful value of the gold and +silver that he expected to pull out of the claims he +had staked the previous year. He believed so +thoroughly in his own vision that even Ross, +whose interests were far removed from gold mining, +felt a thrill of expectancy as to the outcome +of his work in Meadow Creek, while Leslie, whose +appetite was slight for the coarse, ill-cooked food, +dropped his fork to listen although he must have +heard the recital many times before.</p> + +<p>Shortly after dinner, the two saddled up and +departed in the order in which they had come.</p> + +<p>"So long!" yelled Wilson, waving his hat. +"We expect t’ strike it rich before a month."</p> + +<p>"Good luck!" shouted Hank and Ross together, +the latter adding, "I’ll see you again in a few days."</p> + +<p>Hank, stuffing his hands into his pockets, pursed +up his lips and whistled shortly as the pack outfit +disappeared in a cloud of dust.</p> + +<p>"If Wishin’ is cal’latin’ that he has enough +there to last two men all winter he’s about as far +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +off in his cal’lations as–well, as Wishin’ usually +is. Wishin’ ain’t no lightnin’ cal’later on any +subject, but he’s a mighty likely chap t’ have +around."</p> + +<p>"Judging from the small amount his pard ate +to-day he has food enough, I should say," returned +Ross, adding hastily, "but then I realize that I +know nothing about it."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" laughed Hank, "he must know that +when that there young chap has been in the +mountings a few days he’ll eat mulligan ’n’ +spotted pup ’n’ bacon with the best of ’em. His +will be a good, lively comin’ appetite–but huh! +I should hate mightily t’ have t’ feed ’im. Wonder +if Wishin’ has packed some bibs along ’n’ silk +socks ’n’ hand-warmers! Huh!"</p> + +<p>When Ross reëntered the cabin he found Weston +staring out of the doorway, his arm stretched by +his side.</p> + +<p>"Guess you didn’t sleep much," remarked Hank +noisily gathering up the dishes.</p> + +<p>"All I wanted to," returned Weston shortly.</p> + +<p>Hank piled the dishes into a pan and poured +boiling water over them. "M-m," he soliloquized, +"all the time I was lookin’ at him I was thinkin’ +I’d seen that young Jones before. M-m–where, I +wonder?"</p> + +<p>No one answered, and he washed dishes in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +silence while Ross returned to his work and +Weston lay staring out-of-doors.</p> + +<p>The following day Ross saw his patient depart +on the stage headed toward Cody, and prepared +to take the next one himself in the opposite +direction.</p> + +<p>When he assisted Weston out of the door of the +dugout, he knew exactly as much about him as +when he followed his prostrate figure in at the +same door three weeks before–and no more, +unless the name be excepted.</p> + +<p>Hank watched the stage off with a scowl, and +then departed from his usual custom of cautious +speech, where possible customers were concerned.</p> + +<p>"Guess that feller must ’a’ hailed from som’ers +beside Wyoming," he grumbled. "Now, a Wyoming +chap would ’a’ paid his bill, or if he was on +the hog’s back, he’d owned up and passed his +promise. But that there maverick never even +said, ’Thank ye,’ to you or me; and here you’re +knocked out of three weeks’ work along of him, +to say nothin’ of the work day and night you’ve +put in on ’im. Well, good riddance; ’tain’t no +ways likely we’ll set eyes on ’im again."</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span><a id='link_5'></a>CHAPTER V<br /><span class='h2fs'>A MAN WHO NEEDED BRACING UP</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> road to Miners’ Camp from Meeteetse, forty-five +miles long, follows the Grey Bull to its junction +with Wood River. Thence it wanders along +through miles of fertile ranch lands; then, rising +among the black foot-hills, up, up, it winds across +the precipitous face of Jo-Jo Hill, and plunges +among the snow-crowned Shoshones, crowded +nearer and yet nearer to Wood River until finally +there is but room for the narrow track and the +narrow stream at the bottom of the deep caņon.</p> + +<p>This was the road which Ross traveled the +day following Weston’s departure for Cody, and +traveled in increasing discomfort. The further +they advanced among the mountains, the colder it +became, until, finally, Ross was obliged to desert +the high seat beside Bill Travers, the driver, and +seek shelter inside the stage, but not until he +had learned from Bill that there was no hotel in +Miners’ Camp.</p> + +<p>In talking with Hank he had taken it for +granted that there was a lodging house of some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +description and so had asked no questions on the +subject.</p> + +<p>"I pack my grub along," Bill assured him carelessly, +"’n’ roll up in a bunk in a shack that some +one ’r other has left. If you’ve packed yer bed +along, stay with me to-night. There’s the floor," +hospitably, "and I guess I can rustle grub enough +fer both. Anyhow, there’s two eatin’-houses where +you could fill up."</p> + +<p>At five in the afternoon the stage crawled +through the dusk over a yielding bridge built +of hemlock saplings creaking under their coating +of ice and snow, and stopped in front of a shack +out of whose open door glinted a welcome light. +Another light appeared high up on the side of the +mountain.</p> + +<p>"Hold up there, Bill," was the shout which had +brought the stage to a standstill. "Got a cold, +hungry young chap inside there, name of Grant? +Wishin’ Wilson went through yesterday and said +he’d be along with you to-day."</p> + +<p>Ross recognized the voice as belonging to Steele, +and, opening the stage door, answered for himself +in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>Steele shook hands cordially. "Better get out +here, Grant," he invited in an offhand way; "I +have some beefsteak ready to fry, and the spuds +are bakin’ in the oven."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span>Ross climbed out with as much alacrity as +his cold, benumbed limbs would permit. But no +sooner was he on the ground than something +queer occurred. His legs gave every indication +of doubling up under him, while his head felt +as large and airy as a balloon. He clutched the +wheel, but not until Steele had clutched him.</p> + +<p>"Altitude!" exclaimed Steele. "Being a mile +and a half above sea-level don’t agree with most +people just at first."</p> + +<p>Ross leaned against the wheel, looking up giddily +at the strip of sky corralled between the +towering summits of Dundee and Gale’s Ridge. It +seemed to him that it was the mountains and not +the altitude which oppressed him, and bore down +upon him, and shut off his breath.</p> + +<p>"My baggage," he began hesitatingly to the +stage-driver, "where–if there’s no hotel<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>But Steele interposed. "Lend a hand here, +Bill, with these trunks. I want Grant to put up +at my hotel to-night, bag and baggage."</p> + +<p>Bill grinned, and laid hands on the emergency +chest. "He’ll git a better layout than at my old +shack, I tell ye! Say! Is Uncle Jake in Camp?"</p> + +<p>Steele shook his head. "Nope. I’m going to +see about packin’ Grant over to the Creek myself +in a few days," and a great wave of thankfulness +surged over Ross.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span>A few moments later Steele waved his hand +around the one room of his little log shack. +"This is the only kind of home you’ll find up +here, Grant, about the same as Weimer has over on +the Creek. Things are rough and ready here, +without any frills."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he glanced at the larger of Ross’s +trunks.</p> + +<p>If Amos Steele understood one subject better +than mining operations, that one subject was men. +He saw in Ross an overgrown, homesick boy, with +a stout but untested "backbone."</p> + +<p>"And I wonder," thought Steele, "how far that +backbone is going to take him when it gets a +healthy development, and–how far is he goin’ to +develop it?"</p> + +<p>Furthermore, Steele concluded, Ross was more +accustomed to bending over a book than over a +shovel; and he shrugged his shoulders at the +thought of the Weimer-Grant claims.</p> + +<p>"His backbone can’t do everything," he decided, +"no matter how stout it grows, especially +when Weimer has lost his."</p> + +<p>Steele’s shack was at the foot of Gale’s Ridge. +Half-way up the mountainside was another and +larger shack, where his miners, thirty in number, +ate. Above that was the "bunk-house" where +they slept. And yet higher up was the mouth of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +the tunnel out of which the Gale’s Ridge Mining +Company expected to pull vast wealth when the +Burlington Road had done its part.</p> + +<p>"I’d rather bach it," Steele explained to Ross as +they sat down to beefsteak and baked potatoes, +"than to be with the men. It’s pleasanter for me–and," +with a jolly laugh, "for them also, I expect."</p> + +<p>Ross liked this frank young superintendent who +had so kindly taken him in. He felt that he +must get his bearings in some way, and Steele was +the man to set him right.</p> + +<p>Therefore quite early in the evening the boy +burst out with:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Steele, I’ve come to the conclusion that +I’m the greenest tenderfoot that ever came to +Wyoming. Now, you know the ropes here, and +I don’t. Will you advise me?"</p> + +<p>"That is exactly what I’ve been wanting to do," +assented Steele swiftly and heartily. "But I +won’t do it at all to-night. It’ll take you a few +days to get over your light-headedness, and until +you do the trail around Crosby won’t be healthy +ridin’ for you. Anyway, there’s a lot to be done, +for Uncle Jake Weimer hasn’t laid in any winter +supplies yet."</p> + +<p>Ross tipped his chair back against the unhewn +logs, and thrust his hands into his pockets. Ever +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +since the talkative prospector had passed through +the stage camp he had wondered what manner of +man Weimer was. But not until he was jolting +along in the stage that day did one sentence especially +recur to him in all its possible significance.</p> + +<p>The prospector had said, "’Curious how that +snow-blindness should have touched Dutch Weimer.’"</p> + +<p>Therefore, Ross’s first question was of the man +he had crossed the continent to help.</p> + +<p>The answer reached far into the night; and when +at last Ross, wrapped in his blankets, lay down in +a bunk built against the wall, it was a long time +before sleep came, tired as he was.</p> + +<p>The following evening, after a full day’s work, +he sat down beside the little home-made table to +write to Dr. Grant and Aunt Anne while Steele +washed up the supper dishes.</p> + +<p>"I should be worse than helpless, were it not +for Steele," he wrote; "and even with him to help +me I may as well own up I am in blue funk. Not +a man is there to hire; so the programme for the +next few months seems to be this: Yours truly +has got to put on some muscle, and buckle down +to pick and shovel. Where do you think Piersol’s +’Histology’ is coming in, uncle, or that man +Remsen?</p> + +<p>"But that’s not the worst. It seems that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +Weimer isn’t as stout in his head as he was before he +was stricken with snow-blindness, and, although +he is as stout as ever in his muscles, he doesn’t +take kindly to work any more. Hasn’t even taken +the winter’s supplies of food and dynamite over to +Meadow Creek. He’s just smoking his pipe in +peace because of the man father is sending to help +him out! But I can tell you that the peace is all +on his side.</p> + +<p>"The mountains here are the original packages, +all right. They’re miles high, and look as if +they’d topple over on a fellow with but half an +excuse. And then the air–or the lack of it, +rather! I’ve not been able to walk any distance +without a cane, so uncertain does this rare air +make me in my motions. But Steele says I’ll get +over that in a day or two. So, day after to-morrow +he is going with me to Meadow Creek with +the Gale’s Ridge Company’s horses–we ’pack’ +over the supplies for the winter, and the emergency +chest just as it is; but, Aunt Anne, only a small +portion of the contents of my big trunk can go. +Over on the Creek Steele can explain to me about +the amount of work to be done, for fear Weimer +doesn’t tell it straight<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Suddenly Ross stopped. He leaned back and +bit his pencil, his eyes narrowing frowningly as +he glanced over the letter. Then with a gesture +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +of disdain he caught up the sheets, and tore them +into fragments.</p> + +<p>Steele paused in the act of placing the dishes in +the rough cupboard which was nailed to the logs +behind the stove.</p> + +<p>"Well, I’d think twice before I tore up a letter–too +hard work to write ’em."</p> + +<p>"I have thought twice," returned Ross emphatically. +"That’s why I tore it up. No use piling +up all my difficulties on them first thing. Aunt +Anne worries enough over my being here, as it is."</p> + +<p>"So there’s an ’Aunt Anne,’ is there?" mused +Steele to himself over the dishes. He glanced at +the bits of paper in a heap on the table. "Good +work she and that doctor uncle have done." He +surveyed Ross’s clean-cut, clear-eyed face as it bent +above a second and brighter letter, one that ignored +or made light of the difficulties oppressing +the boy.</p> + +<p>In order to divert further the attention of the +recipients, Ross also wrote divers pieces of information +that he had learned from Steele.</p> + +<p>"I am trying to ferret out this gold mining business +from the beginning," he wrote. "I never got +the hang of it before, and, if Mr. Steele wasn’t +everlasting patient with me, I wouldn’t be getting +much now, because everything is so new and +strange here. I don’t half understand the men’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +lingo, because they have a strange name for everything.... +Well, it seems that a gold mine +up here is started in some such a way as this: along +comes a prospector–quartz crazy, he is called if +he’s in dead earnest–with a pick and shovel, a +hammer and microscope, and a camp outfit. If +some one else has provided him with food and the +outfit he is ’grub-staked’ and his ’pard’ is entitled +to half of the results of his work. Father, for +instance, has grub-staked Weimer for years. This +prospector pegs away at the rocks, getting specimens +of ore and examining them under his microscope. +He goes right past rocks that look to me +full of gold they glitter so. No gold in such! +But when he finds some common, dull old stone +that doesn’t show up much to me but has all the +earmarks of ’a high value’ in gold, then he thinks +he has found the outcropping of a good ’lead,’ +because all the rock that is behind that rock in +the same strata is supposed to have that much gold +in it or more. So there he ’stakes his claim.’ +You see I’ve got the hang of a few of the terms +already. First, he drives a stake near the rock +and leaves on it a paper with his name and the date +and a notice that the land is his for so many feet +each way. He can’t take possession of more than +six hundred feet one way and fifteen hundred the +other in one claim, but he can stake off as many +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +other claims right beside this first as he wants to. +The staking is easy enough, but the tug of war +comes in doing enough work to patent the claims! +This means to get a deed of possession from the +state. There is where Weimer and I are up against +it–on the work side! But guess I’d better not +make your heads ache any more with such an +accumulation of learned facts. I’ll just say good-bye +now and continue the headache in my +next."</p> + +<p>To his father he wrote a different kind of letter, +a defense of his delay at Dry Creek.</p> + +<p>"I couldn’t desert a man in that shape," he +wrote, "although I have lost three weeks at exactly +the season of the year, I find, when three +weeks count for the most. I’m sorry it happened +that way, but I shall try to put in good time now +and make up. Anyway, I guess the delay is as +broad as it is long, because, if that accident hadn’t +occurred, I shouldn’t have known Steele; and it’s +his help that’s smoothing things out here for me +to begin work."</p> + +<p>Ross did not know that the way he had conducted +himself at Dry Creek was the cause of the +very practical interest which Steele was taking in +him.</p> + +<p>But not all of Steele’s influence in Camp had secured +a single laborer for Meadow Creek. Ross +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +found that Andy’s explanation on the Cody stage +held good. No one cared to go any further out of +the world than Miners’ Camp.</p> + +<p>"It’s bad enough," one of the Mountain Company’s +men told Ross, "up here eighty miles from +the railroad, with a stage only three times a week +in summer and any time it can get through in the +winter. But, when it comes to workin’ on the +Creek, <i>ex</i>cuse me! Seven mile over Crosby, and +the trail shut up half the year. No, I’m goin’ to +Cody when the Mountain works shuts down."</p> + +<p>The Gale’s Ridge Company worked all winter; +but the Mountain Company dismissed its employees, +twenty in number, when the deep snows +came.</p> + +<p>To the twenty Ross applied in vain. Labor was +dear and men scarce "Cody way," and the miners +refused to be mewed up over on the Creek for five +months at any price.</p> + +<p>"You see," Steele explained, "I’d be glad to employ +all the twenty during the winter myself; but +not many of ’em will ever stay up here in Camp–too +much cut off. I shall run short of hands all +winter. Of course, when the railroad gets up here, +it will be different. They’ll be willing to stay +then."</p> + +<p>Ross checked a groan. "The railroad isn’t here, +but I am," he observed grimly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span>Steele looked at him curiously. "Why don’t +you strike the trail back East," he asked abruptly, +"since you started out without understanding the +situation?"</p> + +<p>Ross glanced up in surprise. "Why, I never +thought of doing that!" he exclaimed, and dropped +the subject.</p> + +<p>But Steele continued to look him over with a +new interest; for the stage the previous evening +had brought to Steele a letter from the elder Grant +asking for private information concerning the situation +Ross, Junior, was encountering. Ross’s brief +letters from Dry Creek had shown Ross, Senior, +that he had no real knowledge of the nature of the +difficulties into which he had sent his son.</p> + +<p>The morning of the third day, Ross, staggering +around uncertainly without a cane, aided Steele in +binding the supplies on the wooden saddles of the +packhorses. From the Gale’s Ridge Company’s +supply-shack they brought sacks of flour and cornmeal, +boxes of canned vegetables and condensed +milk, sides of bacon and hams, bags of coffee and +tea, all of which Steele with many a twist of the +rope and "half-hitch" secured to the clumsy saddles. +The trustiest horse carried the emergency +chest. On Ross’s own horse, lashed behind his +saddle, were his bed blankets and a bundle from +the trunk Aunt Anne had packed with such care.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span>"All ready?" called Steele, one foot in his +stirrup.</p> + +<p>He looked back at Ross already mounted, bringing +up the rear of the string of packhorses, standing +in front of the company’s store.</p> + +<p>"All ready," shouted Ross.</p> + +<p>Steele, about to swing himself up, hesitated. He +glanced again at Ross. Then, dropping his bridle +reins to the ground, he disappeared inside the +store, emerging presently with a short rifle and a +cartridge belt.</p> + +<p>"Ever use a gun?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Ross hesitated. "I’ve practiced target shooting +a little, and gone hunting a few times; but," candidly, +"I don’t amount to shucks with a gun."</p> + +<p>Steele grinned, and handed it up. "Take it +along," he advised, "and practice some more. It +may bring you fresh meat. Sometimes elk and +mountain sheep come down to the Creek to drink +over there–won’t come amiss, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Ross accepted the gun; and Steele, going back +to the head of the procession, mounted, and led +the way up the caņon, which presently broadened +until it formed a snow-flecked valley a few rods +wide. Here were a dozen shacks, another eating +house, and the store of the Mountain Company. +The mouth of its tunnel could be seen high on the +side of the mountain above the store.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span>Immediately beyond this valley the caņon was +nearly closed by two great peaks. The one on the +left was still Dundee; but on the right Gale’s Ridge +gave place to Crosby, behind which lay Meadow +Creek Valley.</p> + +<p>Zigzagging across the face of this mountain +wound a narrow trail gradually ascending. Up +and yet up climbed the horses until Ross clung +to his saddle involuntarily while looking down. +Soon Wood River became a thread, and the +shacks became black doll-houses set in patches +of snow.</p> + +<p>On the trail the snow lay deep in the hollows, +but was swept away wherever the east wind could +touch it. But, snow-filled or black, the trail ever +ascended. The peak of Dundee opposite, which +had seemed from the caņon narrow and remote, +stretched out now immense and so near that Ross +felt he could hurl a stone across and hit it.</p> + +<p>He looked ahead. They were approaching the +dizzy shoulder of Crosby. Steele rounded it, and +disappeared. One by one the slow packhorses, +their loads hitting against the rocks on the inside +of the trail, crawled cautiously after, and also disappeared. +Then before Ross opened a view of +startling grandeur. He was looking out over the +top of Gale’s Ridge and down across Big Horn +Basin, beyond Cody, eighty miles away and into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +the blue heart of the Big Horn Mountains. The +sight brought with it a pang of homesickness. +Eighty miles from a railroad! Eighty difficult, +laborious miles! Ross felt helpless and small and +decidedly shaky in this strange new world about +which he had so much to learn.</p> + +<p>Clinching his teeth hard together, he looked up. +Above were bowlders seemingly glued to the almost +upright mountainside. Below–but Ross’s +head swam, and he turned his eyes to the inside +of the trail, and clung to the saddle. Below was +a sheer drop of a thousand feet down to the falls +of Meadow Creek, which separated Crosby from +Gale’s Ridge. The mist came up in clouds rolling +thick and frosty in the zero air. This was the +quarter-mile of trail which cut Meadow Creek Valley +off from Wood River Caņon for months during +the year.</p> + +<p>"Well," laughed Steele as they stopped where +the trail widened beyond the dangerous shoulder, +"you didn’t take a header, did you?"</p> + +<p>Ross passed his hand across his forehead. His +face was pale. "No, but–I felt every minute that +I’d go over."</p> + +<p>"You’ll get used to that," returned Steele easily. +"You see why that trail becomes impassable later, +don’t you? If it was just the snow on the trail, +why, that wouldn’t count. You could shovel it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +off around the shoulder, and go on snow-shoes the +rest of the way. But, when the snow lodges up +over the shoulder something like ten feet deep, +and a chinook or warm wind comes along and +loosens it, a footfall or a man calling might start +it, and then<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" Steele shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"And there is no other way you can get into +the Creek valley?" asked Ross.</p> + +<p>"No other way with a horse. You can follow +the Creek toward its source, they say, a few miles +and then across. Hunters go that way sometimes, +but on foot; and they have to scramble +for it."</p> + +<p>On and on they went over a wide trail now beside +the clear little Meadow Creek. Ross began to +feel giddy again.</p> + +<p>"Of course you do," Steele explained the next +time they made a stop, "because the Creek is half +a mile higher than the caņon. But you get over +that in a few days."</p> + +<p>"I wonder," exclaimed Ross suddenly, "how +Leslie Jones stood that trail?"</p> + +<p>"About the same as the average and ordinary +mortal," rejoined Steele sarcastically. "But you’ll +probably have a good many chances of finding out +for yourself. You’ll be glad to see anybody, even +young Jones!"</p> + +<p>At last, after threading their way between spurs +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +and over bowlders and through valleys, they +emerged on the other side of Crosby, and found +themselves in a bowl the sides of which were +formed by mountains so high and grim that Ross +gasped for the breath that he felt the peaks would +eventually shut off.</p> + +<p>It was a queer and uncomfortable feeling, this +which the mountains gave him, a sense of being +shut in and overpowered and helpless.</p> + +<p>The peaks on all sides were snow-heaped; but +the valley, protected as it was, showed patches of +black earth. Sage-brush with scrub spruce and +hemlock were the only vegetation of the valley +visible, but the sides of the mountains showed a +good growth of hemlock and pine trees reaching +to timber line only a few hundred feet up.</p> + +<p>On the left at the foot of Crosby–whose back +looked as high to Ross as its face, despite the fact +that he was half a mile higher here than in the +caņon–two columns of smoke were ascending +from two clusters of hemlocks a quarter of a +mile apart. Toward these, Steele, drawing in his +horse, pointed.</p> + +<p>"The first is your layout," he called back over +his shoulder, "the other is the McKenzies’!"</p> + +<p>"And where is Wilson’s?" asked Ross, eagerly.</p> + +<p>Steele faced in the opposite direction and indicated +a narrow trail that led to the right, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +disappearing in a forest of scrub pine which filled the +ravine between two of the mountains that formed +the rim of the bowl. "Follow that trail and +you’ll reach ’em. But ten to one, before you can +do it they’ll follow the trail this way and reach +you!"</p> + +<p>"I hope so!" exclaimed Ross in a heartfelt +tone.</p> + +<p>A few moments later he was face to face with +Weimer.</p> + +<p>The latter stood in the doorway of a low log +shack, his great hands cupped over large blue +goggles through which his eyes showed dimly, +the lids screwed together, leaving only slits for +the admission of the dreaded glare of light from +the snow. His hands were crusted with dirt. His +face, bearded to the rim of the goggles, was grimy, +and the beard matted. His hair hung uneven and +uncombed to his thick rounded shoulders. He +wore a colored flannel shirt, a sheepskin coat, and +corduroy trousers thrust into the knee-high tops +of old shoes.</p> + +<p>In response to Steele’s greeting and introduction +Weimer extended his hand, peered at Ross a moment, +and then asked eagerly in a throaty, husky +voice of Steele:</p> + +<p>"D’ye pack any tobac’ over?"</p> + +<p>"Lots of it," cried Steele jovially. "Enough +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +for your use and some for you to give to your +neighbors."</p> + +<p>Immediately Weimer’s sagging, middle-aged figure +became straight and stiff, and his high forehead +wrinkled in a heavy frown.</p> + +<p>"Give dem McKenzies anyting! Ven I do, it’ll +be ven my name ain’t Shake Veimer."</p> + +<p>Steele stepped quickly in front of the older man, +and spoke forcefully. "There’s one thing, Uncle +Jake, that you’re givin’ ’em as fast as you can, +and that’s these claims."</p> + +<p>"Nein! Nein!" Weimer shouted. "Das ist +nicht so!"</p> + +<p>His uneven black hair bobbed wildly about his +shoulders. He pumped his powerful arms up and +down as if the McKenzies were beneath them.</p> + +<p>Steele thrust his face near that of the agitated +man, and demanded roughly, "How many shots +have you put since you were over to Camp to get +me to write to young Grant’s father? Say, now!"</p> + +<p>Weimer’s manner became cringing. He backed +into the cabin. "If your eyes<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" he began, +but Steele cut him short.</p> + +<p>"You know you’ve not taken one pound of ore +out of your tunnel since. You know you have sat +around here waitin’ for Grant to send some one to +help you out<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Weimer put up a great hand, and shrank back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +as a child would have retreated before his mother’s +upraised slipper. Steele followed him into the +cabin, and Ross slowly followed Steele.</p> + +<p>"The snow ist come," whimpered Weimer; +"und I can’t see ven the snow comes, und the +tunnel so far ist to valk<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>But Steele cut short his complaints sternly. +"Now," he declared, "all your excuses must come +to an end. Here is some one to help. Young +Grant here is going to put this work through, and +you’ve got to brace up and help him. I should be +ashamed to sit down and let a couple of McKenzies +take away my claims."</p> + +<p>At once Weimer became alert and combative. +The McKenzies should not take the claims.</p> + +<p>"You see how it is," Steele began as he and +Ross were carrying the cases of dynamite "sticks" +up the trail to the tunnel in which Weimer was +doing the assessment work for the four tracts to +which he had laid claim. "Mentally Weimer has +become suddenly an old and childish man while +retaining all his physical powers. He can do the +work of two ordinary men if he can be made to +work–and it’s up to you to compel him. Otherwise, +by the first of next July, at the time when +these claims ought to be patented, you will have +to forfeit ’em."</p> + +<p>Ross’s heart sank. "The first of next July," +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +and it was then but the middle of October! He +laid the case of sticks down on the ore-dump, and, +glancing up at the peaks which held him a +prisoner, caught his breath in a gust of rebellion.</p> + +<p>At the mouth of the tunnel, some seven feet +high and eight wide, was the "dump," to the edge +of which ran a rusty track with a "bumper" at +the end. The track extended into the tunnel. +On it stood a lumbering vehicle, consisting of the +trucks of a hand car, on which was fastened a +home-made box to carry ore.</p> + +<p>"This," explained Steele, "is a remnant of +Weimer’s better days. There was no way to pack +a regular car over here, and he devised this. He +was a smart man until last year."</p> + +<p>After dinner, which Weimer prepared,–Ross +found him always ready to prepare food and eat +it,–Steele suggested that they "drop in" on the +McKenzies.</p> + +<p>"Especially," he added, his eyes scanning Ross’s +face, "after your meeting Sandy on the way to +Cody."</p> + +<p>Ross hesitated. "I don’t know about that," he +objected, surprised that Steele should suggest such +a thing. "Wouldn’t it be a bit queer for me to +call on my ’friends the enemy’?"</p> + +<p>Steele laughed, but held strongly to his point. +"Not queer at all. There’s no object in not being +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +on a speakin’-footing with ’em," he said. "There’s +nothing to be gained and a lot to be lost by openly +recognizing what they’re waiting for. You’re +goin’ to get almighty lonesome up here,"–involuntarily +Ross swallowed, and turned his face +away,–"and that Sandy McKenzie is good company–on +the surface. I can’t say as much for the +other, Waymart, but he’ll pass."</p> + +<p>The sun was shining warmly when they left +Weimer’s cabin. The snow above the narrow +loam-paved trail was melting and running in +rivulets down to the creek. Overhead the spruce +boughs met, and laced their green fingers together, +sending down a damp, spicy odor.</p> + +<p>Near the McKenzie cabin Steele paused and +looked up the mountainside. A few rods away +the earth was thrown up around some tree stumps +whose tops had been recently cut off.</p> + +<p>"You see," he explained in a low tone to Ross, +"the McKenzies are supposed to be over here +working some claims that they staked out last +spring. But look there! They haven’t got the +discovery hole finished yet!"</p> + +<p>The "discovery hole," as Ross had learned, must +be dug within thirty days after the staking of the +claim, and is a name given to the ten feet of +development work required by the law of Wyoming. +This ten feet of digging may mark either +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +the commencement of a tunnel if the claim is +located on the side of a mountain, or, if the claim +is on level ground, the hole takes the form of a +shaft driven perpendicularly into the earth. With +a claim thus staked and developed, the owner +may rest secure for one year without further work. +Then, in order to hold the claim against any +covetous claim "jumper" he must do one hundred +dollars’ worth of development work a year for five +years in order to obtain a patent. If he has staked +several adjacent claims, work for all may be done +in one shaft or tunnel.</p> + +<p>Ross, merely glancing at the incomplete discovery +hole, looked at the cabin from which the +sound of voices issued. His gaze was doubtful, +and his footsteps lagged.</p> + +<p>Seeing this, Steele walked on briskly, rapped on +the sagging door, threw it open, and brought +Ross reluctantly face to face with his "friends the +enemy."</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span><a id='link_6'></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE MEN OF MEADOW CREEK</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Sandy McKenzie</span> sat before a rough board table +on which his elbows lazily rested, supporting half +his weight. Sandy needed no gymnasium exercises +to teach him relaxation. Before him were +the remains of a hearty dinner, the chief dish of +which smelled to Ross like beefsteak. From this +dish from time to time Sandy forked bits of meat +on which he leisurely chewed.</p> + +<p>He wore the same garb in which Ross had first +seen him; but the corduroy trousers were much +the worse for wear and dirt, and it had been weeks +since his face had felt a razor. His sandy hair +also had increased in length, one thick lock perpetually +dangling over his forehead.</p> + +<p>Waymart, an older and darker man than Sandy, +lay in his bunk smoking, his knees drawn up and +his hands clasped around them. Waymart was +clean shaven, and his black hair was closely +clipped.</p> + +<p>Both Sandy and Waymart were surprised to see +Ross at their cabin door, but Sandy favored him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +with a delighted grin. Rising without disturbing +the box on which he had been sitting, he straddled +across it, and held out a cordial hand.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Tenderfoot," he shouted. "I hear +they’ve added Doc to that there name since I see +you last."</p> + +<p>Waymart crawled slowly out of his bunk. His +black eyes met Ross’s an instant, and then slid +away, the lids drooping. He held out a hand +which, although larger than Sandy’s, lacked its +cordial grip.</p> + +<p>"Have some chairs," Sandy invited gayly, kicking +forward a couple of boxes. "These here are +our second-best plush, upholstered, <i>ma</i>hogany affairs. +The best are coming from Chicago when +the Burlington Road gets into Camp."</p> + +<p>There was about Sandy such an air of gay irresponsibility +and cordiality that Ross brightened +perceptibly. After all, his "friends the enemy" +might not be bad neighbors, and he was glad he +had allowed Steele to persuade him to come.</p> + +<p>Pushing his box away from the red-hot stove, +he tipped it up on end, and sat down beside the +only window the cabin afforded. Directly outside, +hanging to a tree, were the hind quarters of a +beef, as Ross supposed at first glance. But, chancing +to glance down, he found himself looking at +the head of an elk with great branching antlers, a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +head such as he had seen at "The Irma" in Cody, +credited to the marksmanship of Buffalo Bill.</p> + +<p>"Last week," he heard Waymart saying to +Steele, "we got him over near the Divide."</p> + +<p>Ross opened his eyes in astonishment. "A +week!" he exclaimed, glancing from the table to +the meat hanging uncovered and unprotected outside.</p> + +<p>Sandy caught the expression, and slapped his +leg gleefully. "Think that there meat ought to +be off color by this time, don’t ye, Doc? Well, +let me tell ye we’ll be eatin’ on it hangin’ just +where it is until it’s gone; and the last bite will +be as good as the first."</p> + +<p>Steele explained. "The air up here cures meat, +Grant, quite as well as brine. It takes meat a +mighty long time to spoil–in fact, if it’s properly +jerked, it never spoils."</p> + +<p>"’Jerked’?" interrogated Ross: but Sandy +had launched into an account of their hunt over on +the Divide, and no one explained the "jerking" +process then.</p> + +<p>As Sandy talked, his manner lost its laziness. +He became animated, laughing and gesticulating +constantly, and occasionally running his fingers +through his hair and throwing the stray front lock +back among its fellows.</p> + +<p>Waymart had lain back in his bunk again, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +unceremoniously elevated his knees, between +which he glanced at Ross from time to time. He +said but little, and smiled less.</p> + +<p>The two occupied a cabin similar to Weimer’s +except that it was cleaner. In one corner was a +heap of supplies, boxes of canned goods, and sacks +of flour. Seeing Steele’s eyes on these, Sandy explained +easily:</p> + +<p>"Hain’t packed over our winter’s supplies yet +except the sticks. Got a plenty of them, but +grub’s gettin’ pretty low."</p> + +<p>"Better hurry up, then," remarked Steele in a +careless fashion. "All the horses in Camp will be +sent below in a couple of weeks."</p> + +<p>By "below" he meant the ranches of Wood +River Valley.</p> + +<p>Sandy pushed back his front lock. "Time +enough," he returned lightly. "Everything can +wait except game-huntin’. There’s a flock of +mountain sheep over on the north side of Crosby, +and we’re goin’ to trail ’em to-morrow." Then +he turned hospitably to Ross. "Want to go +along?"</p> + +<p>Ross shook his head. "I’ve–I’ve got to work," +he stammered, embarrassed at being obliged to introduce +the subject of work on the Weimer-Grant +claims.</p> + +<p>He might have saved himself all embarrassment, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +as the subject seemed to have no personal connection +with the gay Sandy.</p> + +<p>"What," he cried, "in huntin’ season? Wall, +I’ve met other tenderfeet constituted like ye; but +they soon git over the fit, and so will you, I reckon. +Brought a gun?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You’ll be out with us yet," declared Sandy.</p> + +<p>"Sure," came from the bunk in tones of certainty.</p> + +<p>Ross said nothing.</p> + +<p>"When you bring down your first buck," pursued +Sandy, unruffled by the boy’s silence, "you’ll +begin to git the Western fever that ye said ye +didn’t want." Here Sandy chortled. "Guess ye +think ye’re enough of a doctor t’ cure that fever, +but wait and see!"</p> + +<p>As he said this, there was in the speaker’s manner, +or in his blue eyes or sandy-bearded face, a +return of that subtle something which had caused +Ross to decide that he "partly liked him and +partly didn’t."</p> + +<p>"I expect," said Steele laughingly, "that Doc +here will get as quartz crazy as Wishing Wilson is. +Of course, you fellows have seen Wishing."</p> + +<p>"Wishin’ Wilson!" exclaimed Sandy and +Waymart in one breath, Sandy adding, "What do +ye mean? Whereabouts is Wishin’?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span>"Well! Well! How comes it you didn’t +know?" exclaimed Steele wonderingly. "Wishing +is right up here in your midst. He’s holding +down his claims this minute up yonder," jerking +his thumb over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Sandy sat up and threw the lock out of his eyes. +"Back to stay?" he asked with his forehead +puckering into a scowl.</p> + +<p>Steele nodded. "Stay till the trail is shut up."</p> + +<p>The scowl on Sandy’s forehead deepened. +"Thought Wishin’ was on the hog’s back. Last I +knew he was tryin’ to sell out to a party in Omaha. +When did he come?"</p> + +<p>Waymart crawled out of his bunk again and +lighted his pipe. "We’ve been hunting’," he explained, +"ye know. Didn’t git back ’til yesterday. +Place may be full of folks and we none the +wiser!"</p> + +<p>"I don’t think you’re crowded up here yet," +Steele rejoined. "And Wishing didn’t come until–when +was it?–only a few days ago, he and his +new partner."</p> + +<p>"Pardner?" cried Sandy.</p> + +<p>"Pardner!" echoed Waymart, holding his pipe +in his hand. "What pardner?"</p> + +<p>"Young chap," replied Steele, "about Doc’s +height and–what age should you say, Doc?"</p> + +<p>"Probably seventeen," returned Ross. "Not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +much over," adding, "his name is Jones, Leslie +Jones. He’s from Omaha."</p> + +<p>"Grub stake?" asked Waymart succinctly.</p> + +<p>"More than that," answered Steele. "Jones is +going to stay and help."</p> + +<p>The scowl on Sandy’s forehead smoothed itself +out. He grinned genially at Ross. "I wonder +now," he mused, "if there’s enough of us old goats +up here in Meadow Greek to round up the kids +and take care of ’em!"</p> + +<p>"What about the kids taking care of the goats?" +laughed Steele. "Sometimes they’re bigger hustlers."</p> + +<p>Sandy nodded lightly. "This air’ll take the +hustle out quick enough. Such high mountains +as these hain’t made fer hustlers."</p> + +<p>As Ross was returning with Steele to Weimer’s +shack, the superintendent glanced at him sidewise.</p> + +<p>"I don’t believe," he said slowly, "that the +McKenzies intend to winter here. Of course, +there’s no object in their stayin’. We all know +they’re not here to work their claims, and it isn’t +necessary to stay in order to watch yours; and +they’ve no winter supplies, nor," thoughtfully, +"have they mud-chinked their cabin. You can +see daylight anywhere between the logs. No, I +don’t think they have any intention of staying."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span>Ross looked around the tiny valley, with its +fringe of windy, inaccessible peaks, and thought +of the long months ahead of him, shut in among +those cruelly cold mountains.</p> + +<p>"I hope they stay!" he declared fervently.</p> + +<p>An hour later, having talked over the situation +with Ross thoroughly, explained the amount of +work necessary to be done in the tunnel, and +given Weimer large chunks of advice, Steele rode +away, driving his packhorses in front of him.</p> + +<p>Ross watched him out of sight and then entered +the shack whistling to keep his courage up. +Inside he surveyed his temporary home with a +shiver which stopped the whistle. "Uncle Jake," +he suggested, "let’s clean house the rest of the +day. Willing?"</p> + +<p>Weimer, sitting on a box in front of the stove, +assented without removing the pipe from his lips. +"Ja, clean up all you vant to. I tink your fader +was alvays vantin’ to clean mit der house."</p> + +<p>"Think of my father’s ever cleaning out a cabin +like this!" muttered Ross.</p> + +<p>He stood helplessly in front of the door looking +from the complacently smoking Weimer to the +bags and boxes heaped on the floor and then +around the dirt-encrusted room. He thought of +Aunt Anne and her perfectly kept house with a +great throb of homesickness. Then he thought of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +his father, who had got his "start" under such conditions +as these and suddenly threw off his coat.</p> + +<p>"It’s got to be done," he said aloud, "and I’ve +got to do it!"</p> + +<p>"Vat?" asked Weimer stupidly turning his goggles +in Ross’s direction. Weimer was hugging his +knees in a state of blissful content, the smoke from +his pipe curling about his head and almost shutting +from view the big young man on whose +shoulders he had already shifted all burdens connected +with the Grant-Weimer claims.</p> + +<p>During the remainder of the day Ross worked +cleaning up the cabin and packing away their +winter supplies. When night came his bunk +looked better to him than the supper which Weimer +was preparing, and he dropped asleep sitting +beside the table waiting for the flapjacks. But, +instead of turning in directly after washing the +supper dishes, as he had intended, he was forced +to keep awake until nine o’clock entertaining the +denizens of Meadow Creek Valley.</p> + +<p>The McKenzies came over first. Weimer, who, +when night approached, had removed his goggles, +saw them coming first and raised his voice in +protest.</p> + +<p>"Ach! dem McKenzies! See here, poy, dey +mustn’t come mit my cabin. Dey ist after dese +claims. Vorstehen sie nicht?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span>"Yes, yes, Uncle Jake, I understand," Ross returned +soothingly. "But they can’t carry the +claims away in their pockets to-night, and to-morrow +morning we are going to bone down to work +at such a rate that they’ll come up missing on +their calculations altogether."</p> + +<p>At the mention of work, Weimer groaned and +retiring precipitately to his bunk lay there regarding +the doorway hostilely through the smoke from +his pipe. The next minute the doorway framed +Sandy with Waymart close behind.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Doc!" Sandy pushed his cap to the +back of his head. "Mart and I, we’ve started out +fer to pay our respects to Wishin’ Wilson. Want +t’ hike along with us?"</p> + +<p>Ross shrugged his shoulders and sat down on +one end of the table, dish-cloth in hand. "Guess +I’ve had hiking enough for one day, McKenzie. +Let’s see. It’s two miles up there, isn’t it?"</p> + +<p>"Yep;" Sandy lounged in and sat down on a +box. "And by th’ same sign it’s two miles back. +But, gosh, young man, a matter of four mile ain’t +nothin’ in this country!" He surveyed Ross +curiously. "How d’ye travel East? In a push +cart?"</p> + +<p>Ross grinned but flushed. "The trip over from +Camp was on rather higher ground than I’ve ever +seen before and it–well–it winded me," frankly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +"And this afternoon I’ve been hoeing out here. +So I’m not exactly as fresh as a morning glory to-night."</p> + +<p>Waymart came inside and looked around. Ross +pushed a box in his direction and, after a moment’s +hesitation and a civil nod in the direction +of the bunk, the older McKenzie sat down and +pulled his pipe out of his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed Sandy. "When you’re a +few months further away from Pennsylvany you’ll +forgit that a shack needs a hoe, t’ say nothin’ of a +broom." Then he addressed the bunk without +looking toward it. "Uncle Jake, have you seen +Wishin’?"</p> + +<p>"Ja," growled Weimer uncivilly, "dat I have."</p> + +<p>"How did he look?" smiled Sandy who seemed +to enjoy the other’s "grouch."</p> + +<p>"Look?" violently. "Vy, how should he look +but shust like himself!"</p> + +<p>Waymart chuckled, and Sandy was about to reply +when footsteps were heard drawing near. +Heavy shoes were crunching the stones and pine +needles under foot, and voices sounded louder and +louder.</p> + +<p>"Must be Wilson and Jones," said Ross going to +the door.</p> + +<p>The room was lighted by two miner’s candlesticks +driven into the side logs. One candle was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +near the door, and the light fell on the genial face +of Wishing Wilson, who paused in the doorway to +wring Ross’s hand and shout his greetings at the +other occupants of the room, before stepping in +and allowing his young partner to enter. When +Ross finally held out his hand to Leslie Jones he +knew that he was facing a boy as homesick as himself, +rather than "Queen Victory’s youngest."</p> + +<p>Leslie gripped the other’s hand as though its +owner were a lifelong friend. "How do you make +it up here?" he asked in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"Don’t make it yet," responded Ross. "I just +got here to-day. Steele came up with me."</p> + +<p>Then he turned to introduce Leslie to the McKenzies +and saw a tableau which puzzled him.</p> + +<p>Waymart was staring at Leslie with amazed eyes +and a lower jaw that slightly sagged. He held his +pipe in front of his mouth surprised in the act of adjusting +it between his lips. Sandy, rising, came +blithely forward, and, in passing Waymart, stumbled +and jostled against him. Waymart instantly +recovered his lost poise. Lowering his pipe he +slouched along behind Sandy and shook hands with +Wilson’s partner. Wilson himself was over beside +Weimer’s bunk telling at the top of his voice that +he had come to a rock wall in his tunnel, and on +the other side there must, without fail, be either a +pocket of free gold or a lead that would make the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +claims among the most valuable in the Shoshones. +To this optimistic talk Leslie did not listen with +the same absorbing interest he had shown at Sagehen +Roost, Ross noticed.</p> + +<p>In fact, a week of loneliness, coarse food and +hard work had wilted Leslie Jones both physically +and mentally. Abject weariness seemed to have +robbed him of a part of his absorbing self-esteem. +Furthermore, he appeared to Ross to be troubled +as well as homesick. He looked at Sandy and +Waymart unrecognizingly and sat down on a +bench beneath the candle by the stove.</p> + +<p>"We shall stay," Ross heard Wishing tell the +McKenzies, "till the pass over Crosby threatens. +Then we’ll hike it below to the coal claims."</p> + +<p>"Didn’t know you had any," interrupted Sandy. +"Where are they?"</p> + +<p>"Up Wood River, only about a mile or such a +matter from Camp. Fine outcroppin’ of coal. +Best in the country. When the Burlington gits +here they’ve got t’ have coal and I says to myself, +’There’s where you come up on top, Wishin’, you’ll +have th’ coal t’ sell ’em,’ me and my pard now," +he added with a glance at Jones.</p> + +<p>The boy looked at him vaguely, as though he +had not heard, and nodded. He sat with one +knee thrown over the other, his back pressed +against the side logs, his eyes so heavy that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +lids kept drooping despite his efforts to keep +awake. His hands were blistered, and his new +corduroy suit dirty and torn. The air of newness +which had characterized him when Ross first met +him was gone. His hair had lengthened, and his +cheeks revealed hollows. He said but little, being +engaged in the absorbing effort to keep awake. +Besides, Sandy and Wilson gave no one else a +chance to talk. Waymart smoked stolidly staring +at the candle above Leslie.</p> + +<p>Ross, sitting with his elbows on the table, ceased +to struggle against weariness, and, with his head +on his arms, fell asleep. He awakened just in +time to see his callers depart, whereupon he threw +himself, dressed, in his bunk and slept until late +the next morning.</p> + +<p>During the next few weeks, all days seemed alike +to Ross except Sunday. Early each Sunday morning +he struck the trail for Miners’ Camp, the post-office, +and Steele’s shack. At first he crept shudderingly +over that quarter mile around the shoulder +of Crosby. But soon his head lost every sense of +giddiness, and his legs regained their accustomed +strength, and his heart ceased to beat agitatedly at +sight of the thousand-feet fall.</p> + +<p>On the third Sunday he came into Steele’s shack +with a brighter face than he had worn before.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i4'></a><img src='images/i-134.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +HE STRUCK THE TRAIL +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span>"Things are sort of righting themselves," he +reported over a hot elk steak. "I’m getting Weimer +down to work in dead earnest," chuckling. "I +hold the McKenzie boys before his mind’s eye +continually, and roll that car out, and dump it so +quickly that he has to step lively to get enough +ore picked out and blasted out to fill it."</p> + +<p>Steele whistled when Ross told him how many +cubic feet had been taken out of the Weimer-Grant +tunnel during the week. He took from his pocket +a paper and pencil, and fell to figuring. Ross +pushed aside the empty dishes, and, leaning across +the table, looked on with interest. He, too, had +figured extensively since work began on Meadow +Creek, but only during the last week had the +figures satisfied him.</p> + +<p>"Why, man alive!" cried Steele after a few moments’ +silent work, "you’ll fetch it, at this rate." +He stretched his hand across the table impetuously, +and gripped Ross’s, adding, "I thought you could +never do it–even with a backbone."</p> + +<p>Ross’s shoulders straightened, and his face +flushed boyishly. "We <i>must</i> fetch it!"</p> + +<p>Steele leaned back, and drummed on the table. +"What about the McKenzies? Of course they +must know what progress you’ve made."</p> + +<p>"Well," exclaimed Ross, "I hope I can keep +’em so interested guessing that they’ll stay all +winter. They come over as socially as you please +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +about every evening. Weimer doesn’t like it +much. He has no use for ’em, but I have, you +bet! I’m glad to have ’em around, especially +now when I can estimate that at the present rate +of speed the tunnel will be ready so we can apply +for a patent by June."</p> + +<p>To Dr. and Mrs. Grant, Ross wrote: "It’s going +to be a long pull and a strong pull, but I shall +stick to the ship and show father that I can do +something else besides setting a bone.</p> + +<p>"And what’s more and queerer, I’m in danger +of getting interested in gold mining for itself. +Every time I push our little car out to the end +of the dump and unload the ore I wonder how +much gold I’m watching roll away down the incline. +Aunt Anne, you said in your last that it +seems such a waste to throw away the ore. Well, +if you were here you’d find it a greater waste of +good money to try to get money out of the quartz +under present conditions. You see there are only +a few dollars’ worth of gold in a ton of rock. That +ton would have to be ’packed,’ as they say here, +eighty miles over the roughest of trails to Cody, +and there loaded on cars and sent clear to Omaha, +our nearest smelter. And I guess you know more +than I do about the costly process of crushing ore +and extracting gold from it in a smelter. It’s not +like mining for ’pay dirt,’ as the men here call +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +placer mining, where you gather up sand and wash +it out yourself and find the particles of gold in the +bottom of your pan. This quartz digging is the +most expensive kind of mining there is. But +when the Burlington gets the branch road up into +Miners’ the ore can be loaded at the mines and +unloaded in Omaha without change of cars. Then +we’ll dig out the dumps and send them to the +smelter, and back will come the gold jingling +into our pockets. But whenever I’m moved to +give you information I feel small, for I believe, +in spite of all you write, that you both know more +than I do about it now.</p> + +<p>"I haven’t had a book in my hand, Uncle Fred. +When it comes night, I am too tired to understand +the newspapers that I bring over from Miners’, +to say nothing of delving in histology. I expect +I shall forget all I ever knew, but never mind! +If I can get those claims patented, and so satisfy +father, then next year I’ll begin over again to fit +myself for college–guess what I knew once will +come back when I’ve studied a little. Anyway, +I’m not going to worry about it now."</p> + +<p>Ross underscored those last words to convince +himself that he was not worrying, and handed the +letter over to Bill Travers to be mailed at Meeteetse.</p> + +<p>To his father Ross proudly wrote of the week’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +progress in the tunnel, adding in reply to a rather +longer letter than usual, which he found awaiting +him in Camp, "No, I have no intention of throwing +up the job."</p> + +<p>His father had opened the way wide for him to +"throw up the job" after receiving the letter he +had requested Steele to fill with exact information. +That part of the information which stated that +Ross must necessarily be shut up in Meadow +Creek Valley for months with a more or less weak-headed +partner had led to the letter which Ross +found awaiting him. But Ross, Junior, was not +well enough acquainted with Ross, Senior, to understand +that this letter was an invitation for him +to return East.</p> + +<p>"He thinks I’m just chicken-hearted enough to +be ready to cut and run at the first obstacle," was +Ross’s thought when he read what his father had +written. His chin came up, and his eyes narrowed. +"I’d stay and work here a year before I’d +show the white feather now."</p> + +<p>Ever since his last visit to New York, Ross had +dwelt with secret pride on the respect and confidence +that his father had shown him, and the +sensation was so new and pleasant that he had no +intention of forfeiting it.</p> + +<p>And thus it happened that, with Grant, Senior, +and Dr. Grant and Aunt Anne all desiring Ross’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +presence at home, and with Ross’s wishes coinciding +exactly with theirs, he remained at the "jumping-off +place" into the wilderness.</p> + +<p>In his private office on Broadway, Grant, Senior, +read and reread, "No, I have no intention of +throwing up the job." He twisted uneasily in his +swivel-chair. He pulled Steele’s last letter out of +a pigeonhole, read it, frowned, and replaced it. +Then he leaned back and admitted aloud:</p> + +<p>"I wish the boy was safely entered in medical +college."</p> + +<p>But, even as he considered the matter, "the +boy" with a small pack on his back, candy and a +few apples to eat as a relish with the canned stuff, +was plodding through the snow, light and easily +brushed aside as yet, over the trail between Miners’ +Camp and Meadow Creek. And the boy’s heart +was growing as courageous as his muscles were +strong.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span><a id='link_7'></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><span class='h2fs'>HALF-CONFIDENCES</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>It</span> was dark that night when Ross arrived at +the Weimer shack. The candles were lighted, and +as he passed the window, he saw Leslie Jones +within, sitting on a box on the opposite side of the +room. His elbows were on the table, and he was +listening to Weimer, or rather, pretending to listen. +At a glance, Ross saw that his thoughts were far +afield, his eyes being fixed on the speaker with an +absent stare. He appeared more unkempt than on +the occasion of his first call, and his face was +thinner. There was also about him an air of collapse +that made him a different person from the +overbearing young man who had issued lofty +orders at Sagehen Roost.</p> + +<p>It was the second time that Ross had seen him +since coming into the valley. The week before he +had gone with the McKenzies one evening to the +Jones claims, but the two boys had exchanged few +remarks, both being too tired to talk.</p> + +<p>As Ross entered the shack a sudden thought +struck him. He stopped in the doorway and +greeted Jones with, "See here! Why haven’t I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +thought to get your mail Sundays? You haven’t +been over to Camp at all, have you?"</p> + +<p>Leslie moved uneasily. He picked up his cap +and pulled at the rim. "Aw–it’s bully of you to +think of my mail, but I’m not expecting–why, +yes, you might inquire," he added lamely. Then, +"What’s going on in Camp? I’d like to hear +something about people once more," with a wry +smile.</p> + +<p>Ross unstrapped a pack from his back and threw +the contents on the table. Sorting out the week’s +papers, he tossed them across the table. "’Omaha +News.’ Want to see it?"</p> + +<p>The blood came in an unexpected rush to Leslie’s +face and his hand trembled as he reached for +the papers. Ross watched him as he took them +and scanned the headings, column by column. +Then he glanced keenly over the advertisements, +and without reading further threw the papers +aside and rested his elbows despondently on the +table.</p> + +<p>Weimer, satisfied with the tobacco and candy +that Ross had brought, retired to his bunk, dozing +and smoking by turns. Ross had seated himself +at the table opposite Leslie and reread his letters. +Now, as the other cast the papers aside, he looked +up and met misery in the eyes leveled at him +from beneath his caller’s lengthening hair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span>"Say!" ejaculated Ross impulsively, "I bet you +find it as awful up in this country as I do!"</p> + +<p>"Awful!" echoed Leslie. "It’s<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" A sudden +working in his throat stopped him. He +turned his face away.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn’t stay here for all the gold in these +mountains if things weren’t just as they are," Ross +continued sympathetically, "and I presume you’re +caught in some such way, too, or you’d get out."</p> + +<p>Leslie hesitated, nodded and again faced Ross, +"How are you caught?" he asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>Ross told him briefly about his father’s interest +in the claims and Weimer’s appeal for help that +had led to his, Ross’s, coming.</p> + +<p>As he talked Leslie’s eagerness evaporated. He +evidently was looking for another sort of explanation, +and his response was only half-hearted:</p> + +<p>"Then your father sent you. That’s bad luck +when you want to be in school." He hesitated and +added: "It’s not every fellow that wants to go to +school. I hate it!"</p> + +<p>"You do!" exclaimed Ross. "Well, I can’t say +I waste any love on studying myself, that is, in +most studies, but I’m after results. I’m willing to +bone down to work because of where the work will +take me. The only thing I really like to study is +medicine, anatomy and all that sort of thing, you +know. But in order to get anywhere in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +profession, I have to take a lot of mathematics and +language and things that I detest."</p> + +<p>Leslie’s shoulders came up. "I won’t study +what I don’t like," he declared arrogantly, "and I +can’t be made to–guess they’re finding that out, +too!" The last was under his breath.</p> + +<p>"Well," Ross began vaguely, "if you want to be +a business man it’s not necessary to go through +college. Our most successful business men<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" +His voice trailed into silence as he saw that the +other was not listening.</p> + +<p>There ensued a few moments of quiet. In the +bunk Weimer snored gently. A nickel clock suspended +on a peg from the side logs ticked loudly. +The pine chunks in the sheet-iron stove cracked +and snapped cheerfully. Leslie stared dejectedly +at the table, while Ross, his forehead knit into a +puzzled frown, stared at Leslie. What could have +happened, he asked himself, to rob the other in +four weeks of his former desire to turn prospector? +Homesickness? Perhaps, but Ross decided +the trouble lay deeper. If it were mere +homesickness, the boy would be haunting Miners’ +Camp and the post-office or else clearing out of the +mountains.</p> + +<p>"Where’s Wilson?" Ross asked finally.</p> + +<p>Leslie aroused himself with difficulty. "He’s +over at the McKenzies’. I came here."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span>"How’s the tunnel going? Are you making +headway?"</p> + +<p>This question opened the flood-gates of Leslie’s +misery. "Headway?" he burst out. "Yes, we’re +making headway, but toward what, I’d like to +know!"</p> + +<p>It was an exclamation rather than a question, +and the boy brought his clenched fist down violently +on the table.</p> + +<p>"Why," stammered Ross, "toward getting the +claims patented, I suppose. What else did you +expect?"</p> + +<p>Leslie’s excitement subsided. He folded his +arms on the table. "I came expecting to find +gold," he confessed. "I could hardly wait to get +here and now–well, I’m here, that’s all, and all +my money is spent for supplies."</p> + +<p>"But didn’t you understand," Ross began, "that +the ore up here had to be smelted in order to release +the metal, and that we can never pack the ore +on horseback over these trails and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"No," cried Leslie fiercely, "I didn’t understand. +I understood that I was coming to work +claims that would surely prove a perfect Klondike +in a short time–I thought in a few weeks."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that’s Wilson," broke in Ross. "He’s a +perfect promoter, Steele tells me, because he believes +in things himself so intensely that he makes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +you see his way in spite of yourself. Steele says +he has been quartz crazy for years. Every claim +that he stakes holds his everlasting fortune in +prospect."</p> + +<p>"I’ve found that out," assented Leslie bitterly, +"and yet I can’t blame Wilson. I foisted myself +on him at Omaha–he didn’t get after me. And he +has really been square with me. He simply made +me believe in his claims as thoroughly as he does, +and he believes in them yet, but I don’t. You +see," Leslie explained, "he keeps expecting to run +across a pocket of free gold, and that he says he’ll +turn over to me so I can get back the money I put +into the supplies. I’ve got to get that money back +pretty soon," he added emphatically.</p> + +<p>Ross looked at him commiseratingly. "I’m +afraid you can’t."</p> + +<p>For a moment Leslie’s lips worked miserably. +He took no pains to conceal his emotion from +Ross. Finally he burst out, "I must, Grant. I’ve +simply got to have that money back." He held +out his hands palms up. They were blistered and +sore. "That doesn’t matter," he declared. "I’d +work ’em to the bone if the work would bring the +gold. And a month ago I’d never done an hour’s +work in my life. I tell you," in a burst of irrepressible +confidence, "everything looks different to +me to-day from what it did five weeks ago. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +wish–I wish I could go back those five weeks–why, +I’d almost be willing to go to school<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Approaching sounds stopped the confidence that +Ross was so anxious to hear. The door opened +unceremoniously, and the McKenzies entered, accompanied +by Wilson. The latter was talking excitedly. +With a nod at Ross he finished his speech +while helping himself to a seat beside the stove.</p> + +<p>"I tell you there’s every sign of free gold. Same +kind of stun crops out there and in the same layers +and at the same angle as when I was working +up in Butte. My claims was right next door to a +fellow’s named Harrison. One mornin’ he bust +through a wall rock slam bang right onto two +thousand dollars’ worth of the prettiest yellow ye +ever see. And I tell ye I shouldn’t be a mite surprised +if our next blast showed us a streak of yellow +too."</p> + +<p>Sandy laughed unconcernedly. "A streak of +yeller in a chap and in a rock mean two different +things, I notice. And I’ve also seen more of the +yeller in fellers than in rocks," easily dropping on +a box and lighting his pipe.</p> + +<p>Young Jones, looking at his partner, brightened +visibly, despite the knowledge he had recently acquired +of Wilson’s optimism. There was about +the man such a cock-sureness, such simple sincerity +and abiding faith in his own statements that Ross +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +felt that he could not rest content the following +day without knowing the result of that next +charge of dynamite.</p> + +<p>Steele had told him about these "pockets" that +occasionally are concealed in the heart of the veins +or "leads" along which mining tunnels are driven. +They are uncovered unexpectedly by a blast of +dynamite. They consist of small quantities of +quartz of such richness that it pays to transport +the ore to the smelter. But every prospector +dreams of uncovering a pocket of "free gold" ore, +quartz through which the gold is scattered in visible +particles or streaks and can be extracted in its pure +state with the aid of a hammer and a knife blade.</p> + +<p>"Come down to-morrow night," Ross said in a +low tone across the table, "and report."</p> + +<p>Leslie nodded, and Ross, going to his emergency +chest, brought out a bottle of liquid and a box of +salve. "Here," he said abruptly, "better take +some care of those hands of yours if you don’t +want blood poisoning to set in. Soak ’em well in +hot water with a teaspoonful of this added"–he +shoved the bottle of liquid across the table–"and +then rub in this salve. And don’t work in the +dirt without gloves till those sores are healed."</p> + +<p>Humbly and gratefully Leslie took his orders +from "Doc Tenderfoot," while the men looked on +with interest and many questions.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span>"Tell ye what," said Sandy heartily, "if I intended +t’ winter here I’d feel easier about the trail +bein’ closed. If a stick should go off at the wrong +time and blow ye int’ pieces, Doc here could put +th’ pieces together and patch ye up as good as new. +Doc’s all right!"</p> + +<p>"I wish," thought Ross as he saw his guests depart, +"that I could say the same about Sandy."</p> + +<p>But while he had no faith in the friendly pretentions +of Sandy, he dreaded any mention of his +leaving the mountains. To feel that he would be +left alone with Weimer for months was maddening. +If only Wilson and his partner were to remain +on the Creek–but they too would go as soon +as the trail threatened to become impassable. +This careless speech of Sandy’s concerning leaving +the valley drove all other ideas out of Ross’s head +that night and persisted in the morning. To feel +that Weimer and himself were the only human +beings in Meadow Creek Valley, to know that +there was no escape until the sun thawed away the +barrier in the spring was a terrifying thought. It +was present that day with Ross like a waking +nightmare. As he pushed the little car out of the +tunnel and dumped it, he looked up at the cold +gray peaks with a wild desire to level them and +bring Miners’ Camp–Cody–Pennsylvania–nearer. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +So absorbing was this desire that he forgot +the promised visit from Leslie and was surprised +to see him at the door before he had finished +washing the supper dishes.</p> + +<p>"You wanted to hear about that promised vein," +explained the newcomer, reading Ross’s surprise +in his face.</p> + +<p>"Oh–why, yes! That pocket of free gold!" +exclaimed Ross hastily picking up the thread of +connection where it had been broken the previous +evening by Sandy’s reference to leaving the valley. +"Did you uncover it?"</p> + +<p>"Uncover nothing!" returned Leslie. He sat +on the table and swung his feet restlessly, adding +despondently, "And what’s more, we won’t uncover +anything in a lifetime up here, either. I’ve +lost all hope–except," he added with a shrug of +his shoulders, "just the minute that Wilson is +talking."</p> + +<p>"I never had any hope," said Ross slowly, "but +then, I have never given the ore more than a +thought. With me it’s simply to get the work +done, satisfy my father and–clear out."</p> + +<p>"And with me," responded Leslie, "it’s the +money now–I’ve got to have the money. Only," +he added, "I’ll say this–that when I left Omaha +there was more in it for me than the money. You +see–I’ll own up–I was crazy to get out of school +and, well–see things and do ’em! If I’d gone to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +some other place, to Goldfield or even down to +Miners’ Camp it would be different. But I’m here +and all my money’s spent."</p> + +<p>Continually he came back to that last statement. +That fact had evidently swallowed up all the lust +for adventure, for "getting out and seeing things"–it +was the only thing that young Jones could +now see in the situation. Ross wondered why but +did not like to ask. Finally he said hesitatingly, +"I say, Jones, if you want to get out of here I’ll–that +is–I have enough on hand to let you have +your car-fare back to Omaha."</p> + +<p>The blood rushed over Leslie’s face. His head +came up proudly. "See here, Grant," he exclaimed +briskly, sliding off the table and stuffing +his hands into his pockets, "it must sound as if +I’m a low-down beggar, but I never thought of +such a thing as getting hold of your money!"</p> + +<p>"And I never thought of it, either," declared +Ross quickly. "I’ve made you the offer on my +own hook. Come off your high and mighty perch +and talk sense! Take the money and pay it back +when you can. I’m a hundred dollars to the good +here."</p> + +<p>Leslie "came off his perch" instantly and held +out his hand repentantly. "Thank you, Grant. +That’s awfully white of you, but that won’t do. +It’s not car-fare I want, and Omaha is the last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +place I want to strike–or next to the last, at +least–without–well, a lot more than car-fare." After +a moment he repeated, "I tell you it’s white of you +to offer it, though. It makes a fellow feel as if +he’d fallen among friends."</p> + +<p>The latter expression reminded Ross of something +about which he had not thought in three +weeks, namely, the behavior of Waymart McKenzie +when he first saw Leslie. With the water still +dripping from the dish-pan the boy hung it against +the logs, tossed the dish-cloth on top of the pan +and rolling down his sleeves, asked:</p> + +<p>"Jones, do you know the McKenzies?"</p> + +<p>Leslie shook his head. "Before coming here, +do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Ross nodded.</p> + +<p>"No, never saw them before. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," returned Ross carelessly, "only +when you came in here the first night I thought +they acted as though they’d seen you before, or +Waymart did, rather."</p> + +<p>The effect of this simple statement was unexpected. +Leslie gripped the table excitedly. His +face paled and he was obliged to clear his throat +before asking: "What made you think that? I +didn’t–didn’t notice anything. I never thought +that they–he<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"It was just a trifle that made me think that," +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +Ross hastened to assure his guest in confusion. +"Just a little byplay when Waymart first saw you. +Nothing to<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Tell me exactly what it was," commanded +Leslie, and all the boy’s imperiousness leaped to +the front. "I want to know all that you saw."</p> + +<p>Ross related the incident haltingly. "Sandy +didn’t act as though he had ever seen you before. +It was only Waymart," he said consolingly, but it +was plain to be seen that the other was not consoled.</p> + +<p>"It’s possible, very possible that they may have +seen me–I wouldn’t have noticed them," he muttered, +"if they were–that is, father hired any +number of men–they might all see me and I not +notice them."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I can find out," offered Ross promptly. +"I’ll ask them."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" hastily; "don’t bother with the +matter."</p> + +<p>Leslie crossed the room, threw open the door +and stood staring across the valley at the McKenzie +shack. When next he spoke he did not look +around:</p> + +<p>"It will be just as well, Grant, if you don’t mention +me to ’em until<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" There ensued a long +pause. Then, "until I talk with you again."</p> + +<p>Just before he left he asked abruptly, "Do you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +bring the Omaha papers back with you every +Sunday?"</p> + +<p>"I can," replied Ross, "if you want ’em. But, +see here, Jones, why don’t you go over to Camp +with me next Sunday?"</p> + +<p>Leslie hesitated. "Guess I will. Good-night."</p> + +<p>A few steps from the door he turned back. +"See here, Grant, don’t wait for me Sunday. If I +go I’ll be here by eight o’clock. But if I don’t go, +I should like to see the Omaha papers."</p> + +<p>"All right, I’ll fetch them," returned Ross.</p> + +<p>Sunday morning he postponed his start for +Miners’ Camp until past eight o’clock, hoping that +Leslie would come, but no Leslie appeared. Sandy +did, however. He came freshly shaved and +combed, with a new kerchief knotted about his +neck.</p> + +<p>"Want some good company over t’ Camp?" he +inquired jocularly. "If ye do, here it is, fer I’m +goin’ out."</p> + +<p>"Going to stay long or just for the day?" asked +Ross.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dunno how long," carelessly. "I’ve got +t’ see Cody again. Little old town couldn’t fetch it +if I didn’t hang around it about once in so often."</p> + +<p>"Is Waymart going?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, Mart will hold the cabin and claims +down here. Mart don’t like t’ hit th’ trail as often +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +as I do. He’s fer his pipe and a soft bunk and a +good meal. Mart ’ud be a failure as one of these +here globe-trotters. He’s what ye could call +domestic in his tastes. The only thing he lacks," +here Sandy chuckled at his own wit, "is a blamed +thing to be domestic about!"</p> + +<p>As they were making their way cautiously +around the shoulder of Crosby, Sandy asked suddenly, +"Why don’t that young Jones go t’ Camp +ever on Sunday? Guess they don’t work Sundays +up t’ th’ Wilson claims. I should think he’d be as +wild as you be t’ git over this side of Crosby where +there’s a post-office and newspapers and things."</p> + +<p>"I don’t know," returned Ross in a general +denial of knowledge of all Sandy had said.</p> + +<p>"I wonder about that young feller now," pursued +Sandy affably.</p> + +<p>"So do I!" thought Ross. He said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how he come t’ drop out of nowhere +with money enough t’ grub-stake the two of ’em +fer six months–and then have nothin’ further t’ +draw on!"</p> + +<p>Sandy, walking now shoulder to shoulder with +Ross, looked at him keenly.</p> + +<p>"Don’t know anything about it," returned Ross +shortly, but he could not rid himself of the insinuation +in Sandy’s words.</p> + +<p>When he returned that night to Meadow Creek, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +Ross was disappointed at finding Wilson awaiting +him as well as Leslie. He had hoped that Leslie +would come for the papers alone and would continue +the conversation of his previous visit.</p> + +<p>In a loud and jovial voice Wilson informed Doc +that his pard had started out in good shape that +morning to go over to Camp and had then backed +out.</p> + +<p>"Must have got clean over here," Wilson added.</p> + +<p>Leslie gathered up the newspapers which Ross +had brought and fitted them together without +meeting Ross’s eyes. "I found I was too tired to +go on," was all the explanation he made. "I +slept pretty much all day and am going to turn in +early to-night."</p> + +<p>Ross nodded speechlessly, wondering how much +Sandy’s going had to do with Leslie’s staying. +Would the latter avoid the McKenzies now that +he knew they had seemed to recognize him, and +why? Before the evening was far spent Ross +began to suspect that Leslie would like to avoid +him also, if it were possible. The boy looked +more despondent than ever, but he shielded his +despondency behind a proud reserve that shut +Ross out, much to the latter’s disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," Ross told himself, "if I hadn’t been +such an idiot as to offer him money, he wouldn’t +act so offish now. I never had any more tact than +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +a goat, anyhow! Wish I had minded my own +business and let him do all the talking!"</p> + +<p>"Vas ist de matter mit dot poy?" Weimer asked +as soon as the door closed on their visitors. "He +vas such a talker oder time he vas here und now +he talks nicht at all."</p> + +<p>"Guess he’s homesick."</p> + +<p>Weimer rubbed his great hands together thoughtfully. +"Und sick of de mountains, I tink," he +added shrewdly. "Ven dot poy come here he +fooled himself!"</p> + +<p>The last of the week saw Sandy’s return. He +came strolling along the trail one night just as the +sunlight was fading from the tops of the mountains. +He was whistling, apparently in high +spirits. Stopping at the door of Weimer’s shack +he paused to call:</p> + +<p>"Hi, in there, Grant! I saw your friend +Leonard at Cody. I set you up in fine shape t’ +’im. ’No grass,’ says I, ’will turn t’ hay while +he’s gittin’ things done.’"</p> + +<p>Ross laughed. Despite the fact that he knew +Sandy’s praise covered an abyss of insincerity, it +was pleasant, none the less.</p> + +<p>After the supper dishes were washed, he decided +to visit the McKenzies. "Want to go along, +Uncle Weimer?" he asked, well knowing what the +reply would be.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span>"Go mit dem McKenzies?" gesticulated Weimer. +"Ven I do it vill pe ven my legs von’t carry me +avay from dem!"</p> + +<p>Ross laughed. "Well, Uncle Weimer, my legs +seem to want to carry me where I can get the Cody +news. I want to hear about Mr. Leonard. Perhaps +he has heard from father more recently than I."</p> + +<p>There was no moon that night, and the sky +had become suddenly overcast so that Ross faced a +dense darkness pierced only by the candle-light +from the window of the McKenzie shack. He +stumbled toward this, feeling his way so slowly +along the narrow trail that he unwittingly approached +the cabin silently and surprised an +altercation within. Sandy’s voice was raised in +vehement assertion and Waymart’s lower rumble +in protest. As he was groping for the door, he +heard Sandy say:</p> + +<p>"I tell ye, Mart, wild hosses won’t drag ’im up +here s’ long as that young feller is in these mountings, +and we may want ’im here."</p> + +<p>Then Waymart’s response, "Well, what be ye +aimin’ to do about it? Don’t bite off more’n ye +can swaller. Ye do that too often. He’ll be out +of here in a few weeks. What’s eatin’ ye? ’Let +well enough alone.’"</p> + +<p>"Yes," scornfully from Sandy. "Ye maverick! +They won’t go till we<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span>Ross, his hand on the door, had stubbed his toe +against a stone.</p> + +<p>"Sh," came Sandy’s warning in lowered tones. +"What’s that?"</p> + +<p>There was a step across the floor. Ross instinctively +fell back into the darkness and slipped +behind a tree. The door was jerked open and +Sandy’s figure appeared. An instant he looked +out and then turning back, said disgustedly, "Nobudy, +but guess we don’t need t’ yell loud enough +t’ be heard up t’ Wilson’s."</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span><a id='link_8'></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>ROSS’S "HIRED MAN"</span></h2> + +<p>As the door closed on Sandy, Ross beat a hasty +retreat. His first thought was that the brothers +were discussing him. The fact that they were in +the valley to watch the progress of work on the +Weimer-Grant claims and that they were interested +in his being there and not anxious to have +him remain, all aided in the interpretation of the +McKenzies’ speeches.</p> + +<p>"But who on earth is it that won’t come as long +as I am here and why not?" he asked himself as +he stumbled back in the direction of the light in +Weimer’s cabin.</p> + +<p>"Vat’s you pack for alreddy?" demanded +Weimer from his bunk as Ross opened the door. +"Ist dem McKenzies mit Wilson, hein?"</p> + +<p>"No," returned Ross, "but I decided that I am +tired enough to turn in instead of going visiting," +and he forthwith "turned in," but did not go to +sleep immediately.</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, he was uneasy. He felt that +Sandy, behind that good-natured, friendly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +exterior, was full of schemes. The McKenzies +wanted the claims, and Ross had unexpectedly +interposed himself between them and their desires. +Therefore, their schemes must include him. +What was on foot now?</p> + +<p>He tossed restlessly in his bunk assailed with +qualms of fear that he tried to conceal from himself. +"Ah, what you afraid of?" he asked himself +disgustedly. "They won’t shoot you nor yet +tie you hand and foot and throw you over the +Crosby trail. As Steele says, I haven’t a thing +to fear personally from ’em. That’s not their +way. Go to sleep."</p> + +<p>This command he issued to himself in an angry +mutter and at once scrambled up in his bunk wider +awake than ever. His mental horizon unexpectedly +cleared. "Of course he’s the one they meant +and not me!" he exclaimed aloud.</p> + +<p>"Vat’s dat you say?" asked Weimer sleepily. +"Hein?"</p> + +<p>"A waking nightmare," returned Ross and lay +down again.</p> + +<p>Of course it was Leslie. "’He’s to be here only +a few weeks,’" Waymart had said. "’Let well +enough alone.’" He, Ross, expected to winter in +the valley, and the McKenzies knew it. Yes, they +were referring to Leslie. That calmed Ross, but +deepened the mystery.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span>The following morning he thought over the +situation while he was at work. It was a blind +enough situation, but he felt that he ought to repeat +to Leslie the scraps of conversation that he +had overheard. They might mean much to the +boy, and in spite of his reserve and his overbearing +manners Ross liked Leslie.</p> + +<p>At noon he ate dinner hastily, and telling +Weimer that he would be back in an hour, set +out for the upper claims. Snow had fallen the +night before and the trail had filled, making walking +tiresome, for Ross had not yet accustomed himself +to the use of snow-shoes. With his hands in +his pockets and his cap drawn down over his eyes +he plunged through the drifts in the teeth of a +sharp east wind. Up the side of the mountains +he struggled, through the pass between two peaks +where Meadow Creek had cut a channel and into +a hollow sheltered from the wind and exposed to +the sun.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Grant!" A voice greeted him from the +upper side of the trail.</p> + +<p>Ross pushed his cap back and looked up. In +the sunshine, his back against a warm rock, his +feet buried in the dry loam and pine needles, sat +Leslie Jones. He had eaten his dinner and wandered +along the trail until he had found a warm +spot in which to spend the noon hour. Ross +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +promptly climbed the steep mountainside and +dropped down beside him.</p> + +<p>"The McKenzies say," began Leslie curiously, +"that you don’t stop work long enough to eat and +sleep. Yet here you are two miles from home in +the middle of the day."</p> + +<p>"It’s because of what the McKenzies have said +that I’m here now," Ross returned swiftly. "It +may not be worth a picayune to you, and then +again, maybe, it will be," and he related the events +of the previous evening.</p> + +<p>Leslie bent a troubled face over a stick that he +was idly whittling. "Are you sure, Grant, that +they meant me? I haven’t an idea who they are +nor who could be so afraid of me that he wouldn’t +come up here with me here. I don’t know of a +soul that’s afraid of me, but," with a short, mirthless +laugh, "I do know of some one that I’m afraid +of. It’s not the McKenzies, although they might–if +they know me<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he flung the stick from him and +faced Ross impulsively. "Grant, did you ever do +something that you’d give anything you possessed +to undo–and that you’d just <i>got</i> to undo?"</p> + +<p>Ross, startled at the sudden change in his companion, +at the latter’s intensity and evident unhappiness, +merely shook his head awkwardly, +avoiding the misery-filled eyes. He turned away +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +and began piling up stones, bits of shining quartz +that had been thrown, at some time, out of a discovery +hole above them.</p> + +<p>Presently Leslie regained his self-possession. +"I say, Grant," he began again abruptly, "to tell +you the truth, I have started to go over to see +you half a dozen times within a week and got +this far every time. I’m going to ask a favor of +you."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Ross with a gruffness that did +not conceal his sympathy. "Fire ahead!"</p> + +<p>"The other day you–you offered me money," +Leslie began with difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I do to-day," Ross interrupted.</p> + +<p>Leslie shook his head. "Hold on till I get to +it. I can’t take your money–not that way. But +the other day I heard the McKenzies tell Wilson +that you tried to hire men in Miners’ Camp. Will +you hire me?"</p> + +<p>"Will I!" Ross leaped to his feet. He grabbed +his cap and tossed it in the air and then fell to +pommeling Leslie in pure exuberance of joy. +"Hire you? I wish there were half a dozen of +you to hire! Bully for you! But<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>His exuberance died out. He replaced his cap +and looked down on the other, his lips pursed +ready for a whistle.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span>"See here!" Ross burst out. "What about +Wilson?"</p> + +<p>"That’s all right," Leslie answered quickly. +"I told him a couple of days ago that I’d got to +get money. I told him I’d leave him the grub, of +course. I agreed to furnish it, and I’ll stick to my +word," doggedly, "but I must also light out and +earn some money. And all I can do is to work +with my hands. I–well, I’ve always hated to +make my head work, and I’ve never had to do +any other kind until now. You’ll find I’m soft +yet, but I’ll do my best."</p> + +<p>The boy spoke humbly.</p> + +<p>Ross sent his cap spinning into the air once +more. "I’ll risk you! You’re not as soft as you +were six weeks ago! Not by half! When can +you come?"</p> + +<p>Leslie considered. "Wilson says he’ll go below +to the coal claims in a couple of weeks. I’ll talk +it over with him and let you know."</p> + +<p>"Come to-morrow, if you can," Ross shouted +back as he slid down to the trail.</p> + +<p>Work went easily for a few days in view of +Leslie’s coming. The thought of his companionship +robbed the prospective loneliness of Meadow +Creek Valley of its terrors. He whistled and sang +about the shack as he hunted up the material out +of which to make a third bunk. He was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +hammering away on this the second evening after his talk +with Leslie, when the McKenzies dropped in. +They had been over on the Divide hunting and +had been out of Ross’s sight and mind since his +talk with Leslie. Not until Sandy pushed the +door open unceremoniously and walked in did +Ross recall the comments that had so disturbed +him and wondered once more to whom they had +referred, himself or Leslie, and what the reference +meant.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Grant!" Sandy exclaimed, stopping +abruptly just inside the door. "What’s up? +Why another bunk? Goin’ t’ take boarders? +Any relations droppin’ in t’ attend our festivities +up here?"</p> + +<p>Ross looked over his shoulder laughingly. +"Nope. Give another guess."</p> + +<p>Sandy came nearer. Waymart shut the door +and sat down beside the stove. Weimer turned +his back on "dem darned McKenzies," and put +on his goggles that he might not be tormented by +a view of their faces. It was a never-ending source +of vexation to him that they came sociably to his +shack.</p> + +<p>"I haven’t any more guesses in stock," declared +Sandy, but the smile on his face was succeeded by +a frown and he bit his red beard restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Hired man is coming to-morrow," Ross +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +formed him as the hammer sent another nail home +in the side wall.</p> + +<p>"Hired man!" exploded Sandy. "Where the +deuce will you get a hired man?"</p> + +<p>"Right here in the valley," exulted Ross. "Leslie +Jones."</p> + +<p>"Leslie Jones!" repeated Sandy.</p> + +<p>"Leslie Jones," muttered Waymart.</p> + +<p>"By and by," Ross confessed, "when all you +fellows go below, it will seem a little more livable +up here to have a third one around. I’d pay a +man wages just to stay here to say nothing of +working for me."</p> + +<p>Neither Sandy nor Waymart made any comment. +Sandy stood watching the work in silence, while +Waymart allowed his pipe to go out. Then both +departed. They said they were going up to see +Wilson, but Ross noticed that they returned to +their own cabin instead.</p> + +<p>"Something doesn’t seem to please our friends +the enemy," he chuckled after their departure. +"They see the Weimer-Grant claims getting further +and further from their reach."</p> + +<p>"Ve vill peat dem McKenzies yet," gloated Weimer +rubbing his hands gently on his knees. "Ven +dot oder poy comes de work vill run und jump!"</p> + +<p>Ross did not see the McKenzies again until +Leslie was occupying the third bunk, Wilson +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +having, good-naturedly, sent him down within a week +after the boys had completed their bargain.</p> + +<p>"Clear out if ye want to," Wilson had said +kindly. "It’s white of ye t’ leave the grub. I +hain’t a cent t’ pay fer it. There’s a fortune in +these claims of mine, but it’s too late t’ dig it out +this year. Next summer<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" and he was launched +on the glowing prospects for the next season.</p> + +<p>Leslie entered on his task with a grim determination +which seemed foreign to his disposition.</p> + +<p>"I don’t want you to get sick of your bargain +the first week," he said one day in answer to +Ross’s remonstrance when he refused to stop work +on account of a bruise on his wrist. "You open +up that little emergency chest and I can go on digging +just the same. I don’t want any delayed +wages in mine!"</p> + +<p>With the advent of Leslie, life fell into pleasanter +grooves in Weimer’s cabin. Despite the +anxiety ever present with the newcomer, and despite +his natural reserve, Ross’s exuberance of +spirits caused by his presence and work affected +him, and after the supper dishes were washed, the +two boys wrestled, chaffed each other or talked, +Ross about his father and uncle and aunt, Leslie +about his school life in Omaha.</p> + +<p>"It’s a boys’ school," he explained one day, "a +military academy. I’ve had to go there ever since +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +I was knee high to a grasshopper. Discipline is +fierce. I hate it, and this year I made up my +mind I’d not stand it, so I’m here."</p> + +<p>"And wish," ventured Ross, "that you were +back in school again."</p> + +<p>"Yes–almost," Leslie began impulsively and +then paused, adding quietly, "Lots of things I +wish, and wish ’em hard."</p> + +<p>The following evening after supper, Weimer +tumbled into his bunk at once and began snoring. +The two boys washed the dishes, in silence at first. +Outside, snow was falling heavily. Through the +drifting flakes the McKenzies’ light shone fitfully. +The brothers had been away again hunting and +had just returned.</p> + +<p>As Leslie set the dishes on their shelf above the +stove he glanced uneasily out of the window. He +had not seen the McKenzies for some time. Ever +since they had crossed the valley that noon on +their snow-shoes, their hunting trophies on their +shoulders, he had watched their cabin with that +same air of uneasy abstraction.</p> + +<p>"Ross," he broke out at last, "I’ve got to tell +you something. I hate like a dog to tell it, but +it’s got to break loose some time and it may as well +be right now."</p> + +<p>He turned from the shelf, glanced at the snoring +Weimer, lowered his voice, and, standing beside +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +the stove, worked restlessly at the damper in +the pipe. Ross, without looking at him, slowly +scrubbed the dish-pan and then the table.</p> + +<p> "It’s like this," Leslie began. "When I met +Wilson I had five hundred dollars in my pocket +and a grouch against my father. Always before +then, father had sent the Academy a check to pay +for the semester–you have to pay there in advance +for half the year–but this year he had business on +hand that couldn’t be interrupted and so he called +me into his office in a great hurry the morning I +left home and handed over the check to me. It +was made out to me and it was for five hundred +dollars. That’s the price of the half year, you see. +Dad handed it over and just said, ’Here, pay your +own bill,’ and got out. That’s about all that’s +ever between us, anyway. Well, I went up to +Omaha. We’d had it out about school all summer. +I was bound not to go this year, and he swore that +I should go and go through college if he had to +rope me and tie me and take me himself, as he put +it! Father is a whirlwind of a man. But I was +bound not to go, and the money let me out. I +took the check and cashed it at the bank and went +to the ’Hill House,’ where I met Wilson. I reasoned +that the money was mine because it was to +be spent on me. You see, Ross, I was mad enough +to reason anything my way that I wanted."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span>Leslie turned the damper absently, sending +smoke in gusts into the room, but neither boy noticed +it. Ross wiped out his dish-pan, hung it on +its nail, and sitting down on a box, took his chin +between his hands and stared at the fire.</p> + +<p>"I thought," Leslie went on, "that I’d invest +that money and surprise dad. Well," grimly, +"he’s probably as surprised by this time as I am. +You’ve heard Wilson tell about my meeting him +and agreeing to go with him. I spent the entire +five hundred on our outfit and car-fare in the expectation +that in six weeks I could write to dad +and tell him what a success I’d made of it! I had +six weeks’ grace."</p> + +<p>Ross looked up inquiringly. "What do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"Father and I never have corresponded extensively, +but he always looks sharply after my reports. +The first report goes out from the Academy +in six weeks after school opens. I reckoned from +what Wilson said that we’d strike it rich up here +in a month more or less, and so about the time +father would be looking into the reason why no +report was sent from the Academy, he’d be receiving +one from me up here and, you know, Ross, +’nothing succeeds as well as success,’ and success +of this sort would get dad right under the collar. +Well, he probably knows by this time that I’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +turned up missing at school, and he has not received +a letter from Meadow Creek telling about +the discovery of free gold!"</p> + +<p>Leslie gave the damper a final twist and sat +down on a pile of fire-wood. "Ross," he exclaimed +violently, "I am about seven ways an everlasting +fool!"</p> + +<p>Ross grinned cheerfully. "Aunt Anne always +says that to find out that you’re a fool ’is the best +cure for the disease of foolishness.’ So you see +you’re headed toward the cure already."</p> + +<p>Leslie shook his head. "There’s that money, +Ross. It wasn’t mine, and you know it and I +know it. I can’t face dad again without it in my +hand. Why, I wouldn’t see him until I’d earned +it for–well, wild horses wouldn’t drag me," he +concluded passionately. "I tell you, Ross, I’ve let +myself in for a heap of trouble. I know father."</p> + +<p>"Now that he finds out you’ve skipped, Leslie, +won’t he be hunting you up?"</p> + +<p>Leslie stirred uneasily and turning stretched up +and looked in the direction of the McKenzies. +"That’s what I’m expecting, or else he’ll not think +me worth while. I tell you, Ross, I’ve made dad +no end of trouble both at home and in school. +Things look sort of different up here. I’ve–well–I’ve +never been up against it before."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to send your father word?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span>"Send him word before I get back that five +hundred!" cried Leslie aghast. "You don’t know +dad. I can’t face him without it. Not much."</p> + +<p>"But he’d see that you feel different<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" Ross +began.</p> + +<p>"You don’t know dad," Leslie cut in harshly. +"With the men it’s just the same. It’s ’stand and +deliver’ or get out, and he’d treat me just the +same."</p> + +<p>The coming of the McKenzies put an end to +further conversation. They came to announce +their departure on the morrow.</p> + +<p>"Any little thing you’d like us t’ git fer you?" +Sandy asked the boys lazily. "Want us t’ bring +ye any biled shirts or one of these here coats with +long handled tails? If you fellers lay out t’ stay +here all winter ye better lay in a stock of society +rags, ’n’ dancin’ shoes."</p> + +<p>"About the most useful dancing shoes we’ll need +will be snow-shoes, I guess," Ross retorted.</p> + +<p>Leslie, from the wood-pile, said little but watched +the brothers closely. Neither paid more than a +passing attention to him, concentrating their remarks +on Ross. They left early and went up the +Creek with the intention of paying a farewell call +on Wilson.</p> + +<p>"I don’t believe," said Leslie the following +morning as he watched them take the trail leading +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span> +over Crosby, "that they have ever seen me before. +They don’t act as though they have, do they?"</p> + +<p>"Haven’t seen a sign of it since that first +night," declared Ross, "and yet what I overheard, +you know<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Must have referred to you," returned Leslie +with conviction.</p> + +<p>The next three days passed quietly enough. +The inhabitants of Weimer’s cabin heard an +occasional blast from Wilson’s claims, but did not +see Wilson. Steadily the two boys worked and +steadily Ross held Weimer to his labors. Usually +it was Weimer who got the meals, either Ross or +Leslie leading him down to the shack, in case the +sun shone, about half-past eleven. In three-quarters +of an hour the boys would leave work +and sit down to a substantial meal of hot bread, +potatoes and all sorts of canned meats and vegetables. +But the third day after the McKenzies’ +departure it chanced that when eleven o’clock +came, Weimer and Leslie were in the far end of +the tunnel drilling the "cut in" holes for a new +blast, and Ross, pushing the little car back into +the tunnel, sang out:</p> + +<p>"Hey, you fellows, keep on and I’ll go down +and shake up the grub this time."</p> + +<p>He ran down the trail to the cabin, and soon +had a roaring fire in the heater. A kettle of beans +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +had been left simmering on the back of the stove. +This Ross pulled forward, and then, delving +among the canned goods, he proceeded to set out +various edibles, all the while whistling cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"M-m, tomatoes," he interrupted himself to +mutter, "we haven’t had tomatoes in two days. +And corn–sweet corn. Guess Weimer has overlooked +the corn entirely. We’ll have corn. Soup! +Jiminy! We haven’t had soup in an age. Vegetable. +That means a little of everything, and that +taken boiling hot. Here goes soup."</p> + +<p>"Whoa!" came a deep voice from the trail outside +the door, then the voice was raised, "Hello! +Who’s t’ home?"</p> + +<p>Ross stepped to the door and faced a middle +aged man, clad in leather "chaps" and short fur +coat. A fur cap was drawn down over his ears +and his hands were encased in huge fur gloves. +He sat easily on a gray horse and was leading +another, a mottled brown and white. As Ross +appeared, he drew off one glove and slipped the +hand carelessly under the tail of his coat at the +same time squaring about in his saddle so that he +faced the doorway.</p> + +<p>Ross, in his shirt sleeves, stepped out and +greeted the newcomer hospitably. "Hello! Come +in to dinner."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span>"Had mine down in Miners’ Camp," returned +the other with a backward jerk of his head.</p> + +<p>He touched his mount with his spur and came +close to Ross. The brown and white horse pulled +back obstinately on the leading rope. The animal +was saddled.</p> + +<p>"Are you the young chap that’s workin’ for +Weimer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"All right." The stranger withdrew his hand +from the tail of his coat. It held a gun. "No +monkey-shines now! You’re the boy I’m after. +I’m the sheriff of Big Horn County, and I have a +warrant here for your arrest. Your father is +honin’ to meet up with you and settle a little +account of money taken in Omaha."</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span><a id='link_9'></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><span class='h2fs'>SURPRISES</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>For</span> a moment Ross was stunned. His hands +fell nervelessly at his side, and he stared up at the +stranger with expressionless eyes. Then, as the +situation dawned on him, his eyes suddenly narrowed +and into them leaped a light that caused +the other to move the gun suggestively and say +warningly:</p> + +<p>"No monkeying allowed, understand. Swallow +a bite right now and climb up here on this other +horse."</p> + +<p>Ross looked over his shoulder speculatively. +From his position he could see the mouth of the +tunnel on the mountainside behind the cabin. +The mouth showed up black and empty and from +its depth came the muffled sound of the hand +drills wielded by Weimer and Leslie. The trail +leading over the mountain to Miners’ Camp was +screened from the mouth of the tunnel by hemlocks. +It could be seen only from the end of the +dump. Ross thought fast.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said finally. "I’ll go with you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +now–and quietly. There’s no objection, I suppose, +to my leaving a note for–Weimer?"</p> + +<p>No doubt existed in his mind as to the legality +of the warrant and the seriousness of purpose in +the man before him; therefore, he asked no further +questions. Moreover, he wished above all things +to avoid question and get off before Leslie appeared +on the scene.</p> + +<p>"Leave a note, yes, or see ’im," assented the +sheriff. "I’m willin’. Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"At work," hastily. "I’ll just leave a note."</p> + +<p>The sheriff dismounted, dropped his bridle reins +beside his horse’s head, hitched the second animal’s +rope about the pommel of his saddle, and +followed Ross into the shack, repeating, "Where +at work?"</p> + +<p>"In the tunnel," mumbled Ross. "I would +rather write a line than call him."</p> + +<p>He picked up some cold biscuits left over from +breakfast and stuffed them into his pockets. Then, +drawing a box up to the table, he sat down with +paper and pencil to write a note. To his confusion, +the sheriff stood over him looking on. He +moistened the point of his pencil slowly. What +on earth could he say that would make Leslie +understand and yet not give the situation away to +the sheriff? To gain time he gnawed on one of +Weimer’s hard biscuits.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span>"Where is my–father?" he asked finally, +stumbling guiltily over the word.</p> + +<p>The sheriff spat out of the doorway and twirled +his gun impatiently. "You’ll see ’im before I +leave you, all right," was his ambiguous reply. +"And the sooner that is the better it’ll suit me. +Git busy, young man, with that pencil. I don’t +aim to go int’ winter quarters here. We’ve got +to go on to Cody."</p> + +<p>Ross bit his lips and laid the biscuit aside. His +eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. Grasping +his pencil with a firmness he was far from +feeling he began to write without preface.</p> + +<p>"The sheriff is here arresting me for stealing +money from my father in Omaha. He is taking +me to him in Cody now. I don’t know when I +can get back. Keep the work going sure, and +don’t worry. I think I will be able<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>He paused and moistened the pencil again, then +crossed out the last sentence and substituted:</p> + +<p>"I shall try to reason with him and make him +see that he had better let me keep on doing what I +am doing and earn the money to pay him back."</p> + +<p>Another instant Ross paused and thought. +Then he added the singular explanation which +he believed would make the foregoing more +lucid to Leslie:</p> + +<p>"As I write the sheriff is standing over me," +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +and then bethought himself just in time to avoid +signing his name.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" grunted the sheriff reading the last +sentence. "So he is; and now hustle!"</p> + +<p>Ross hustled most willingly. Seizing his top-coat +and cap he was ready in a few moments for +the perilous journey over the Crosby trail. Silently +he mounted the brown and white horse, all the +time glancing anxiously at the mouth of the +tunnel. He rode in front of the sheriff and +slyly urged his horse forward until the intervening +trees hid the mouth of the tunnel from +which still issued the steady grind and thud of +the drills.</p> + +<p>It was not until the two horses were cautiously +feeling their way down the perilous trail, and Ross +saw far below him the shacks of Miners’ Camp that +some of the difficulties of his sudden venture began +to present themselves to him. His decision had +been made so hurriedly that he had had no time +to think all around the subject of the arrest and +his own action. It had seemed to him outrageous +that a father should arrest his own son even though +that boy had done wrong. Ross revolted at the +idea.</p> + +<p>"I don’t wonder," he thought, "that Less is +afraid of his father. But his fear wouldn’t sit +so hard on his temper but what there’d be no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +end of explosions, and then where would they +both get to?"</p> + +<p>It was the thought of this state of affairs that +had led Ross to the impulsive determination to +go to that father and ask for a few months of +grace for the son. In this, as he acknowledged to +himself, he had a mixed motive and part of the +mixture was not unselfish.</p> + +<p>"If he’ll only let Leslie stay and help me +through the winter and earn the money," was +his thought, "if I can make him see that Leslie’s +no quitter, and that he knows he has made a big +mistake and is willing to bone down and undo it–if +I can only make him see!"</p> + +<p>It was here that Ross’s misgivings began. He +knew he was no talker and evidently, as Leslie +said, the father was a man of violent temper.</p> + +<p>"I’ll probably have my little trip under arrest +for nothing," Ross told himself as they reached +the foot of Crosby. "Mr. Jones will blow my +head off and send back for Leslie. Queer father +not to come himself instead of sending a sheriff +and a warrant and so disgrace his own son!"</p> + +<p>As to who was responsible for notifying the +father of the whereabouts of his son, Ross did +not for a moment doubt. Sandy’s trip to Cody +and the departure a few days before of both +brothers answered that question to his satisfaction.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span>At the foot of Crosby the trail of horsemen +turned into the wagon trail leading past Gale’s +Ridge. On foot approaching them was a man +whom Ross had met often in Steele’s shack, and +the sight of him awoke the boy with a shock to +another phase of the situation that he had not, so +far, had time to consider. Of course, it would not +be possible for him to reach Cody and Mr. Jones +without betraying his identity to the sheriff! +There were the men of Gale’s Ridge, the hotel at +Meeteetse, and above all, there was Sagehen Roost +and Hank. He turned in his saddle. It was a +waste of time to go on. He might as well own up +and let the sheriff go back after Leslie.</p> + +<p>"I was foolish to think of coming!" he muttered +aloud and reined in his horse.</p> + +<p>The sheriff, coming on behind with his head +bent, looked up questioningly and rode alongside. +The two had not exchanged a word since leaving +the Creek, the sheriff being silent by nature and +Ross by choice. At that instant, the footman +passed them. On the sheriff he bestowed an +unrecognizing nod, on Ross a broad and cordial +grin.</p> + +<p>"Hello, there, Doc!" he greeted and passed on.</p> + +<p>The sheriff glanced in surprise from the man to +Ross. The latter drew a deep breath, and squaring +about on his saddle shook the bridle reins. "That’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +a nickname they’ve given me," he muttered and +rode on.</p> + +<p>The sheriff nodded and fell back, leaving Ross +determined to play the game as far as he was able. +He had forgotten that he was known from Cody to +Meeteetse as "Doc Tenderfoot." In a few moments +they had passed through camp and, rounding the +shoulder of old Dundee, settled down to the +eighteen mile ride to the half-way house between +Miners’ Camp and Meeteetse. This house, as Ross +knew, had changed hands since his arrival in the +mountains, and the change would lessen the +chances that he would be recognized there. As it +turned out, the sheriff was not recognized either, +the family being newcomers in Wyoming, and the +two ate in silence, the sheriff introducing neither +himself nor Ross.</p> + +<p>"Luck is with me so far," Ross thought as they +saddled and rode away from the ranch, "but how +can I ever get past Meeteetse and Sagehen Roost?"</p> + +<p>The moon shone brilliantly, and they pushed +ahead rapidly, Ross exulting over the sheriff’s +determination to get on to Meeteetse that night. +They rode as silently as before, Ross in advance. +The black hills met the trail on either side, and +beside the trail flowed the shallow waters of Wood +River until it merged into the Grey Bull. Half-way +to Meeteetse, the sheriff’s horse stumbled and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +limped thereafter, necessitating a slower pace, so +that it was nearly midnight before they drew rein +in front of the "Weller House."</p> + +<p>To Ross’s relief, the place was dark with the exception +of a single lamp in the office. Even the +barroom was deserted. Ross left the sheriff to +register for both, and then followed the sleepy +clerk down to a lunch of cold "come-backs" +which that individual "rustled" from the kitchen +himself.</p> + +<p>"If fortune will favor me as well to-morrow as +it did to-day," Ross thought as he listened to the +sheriff’s first snores, "I’ll be next to Jones by this +time to-morrow night and try to do some talking +for Leslie!"</p> + +<p>He knew that his roommate was no wiser concerning +him than when they started from Meadow +Creek, and he most heartily desired a continuation +of that ignorance.</p> + +<p>In the morning the two were up early and down +to breakfast. Ross looked about apprehensively +for some one who had seen him on his way into +the mountains. He slunk into the dining-room +in the wake of the bulkier sheriff and pushing +himself unobtrusively into a corner seat bent low +over his plate as befitted a young man under +arrest. But no sooner was he seated than the +proprietor of the house spied him from the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +end of the dining-room, and with never a suspicion +that he was talking to the sheriff’s prisoner, strode +across the room. He slapped the sheriff familiarly +on the shoulder:</p> + +<p>"What the dickens are you doing up this way? +Why don’t ye stay in Basin where ye belong?"</p> + +<p>Then he grasped Ross’s hand cordially:</p> + +<p>"Bless us if here ain’t Doc back again. Got +them claims cleaned up yet, Doc?"</p> + +<p>Ross, encountering the puzzled eyes of the sheriff, +quaked. "No, we haven’t yet," he muttered and +glancing toward the dining-room door, exclaimed +in sudden inspiration, "Wonder if that man is +motioning to you?"</p> + +<p>The proprietor looked around. Several men +were in the hall outside the dining-room. "I’ll +go and see," he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The sheriff continued to look at Ross. "Bluff!" +he announced briefly and understandingly.</p> + +<p>The blood flooded Ross’s face guiltily. "It +was," he confessed, adding quickly, "Say, don’t +give my arrest away where I’m known, will +you?"</p> + +<p>His request and confusion satisfied the sheriff. +The puzzled expression died out of his face. "All +right," he assented and fell on his breakfast.</p> + +<p>The proprietor did not see Ross again until he +was riding away. Then he ran out of the barroom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +bareheaded and called, "Steele’s in Cody, Doc. He +said you was pannin’ out more like an old prospector +than a tenderfoot."</p> + +<p>The sheriff rode up beside his prisoner with a +quick inquiry: "How long have ye worked for +Weimer?"</p> + +<p>"Long enough to be sick of it and want to quit," +returned Ross gruffly, giving his horse a quick +slap that set the animal to loping. It was no part +of his plan to hold any unnecessary conversation +with the sheriff that day.</p> + +<p>"I guess," the latter called as he came galloping +after, "that you’ll quit now all right, all +right!"</p> + +<p>Ross made no reply, but took care to keep well +in advance of his captor. Although his plan had, +so far, succeeded, he was far from feeling triumphant +because of a distressing sense of guilt at the +deception he was obliged to practice. Nor was he +able to dispel this sense by the knowledge that he +was acting for the good of all concerned.</p> + +<p>"I may be only messing things up more than +they are already," he thought dejectedly as they +approached Sagehen Roost. "What under the +sun led me to think I was equal to such a job, +anyway?"</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, his eyes narrowed, his chin +raised itself determinedly and he turned his attention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +to the half-way house and the loquacious +Hank. How could he ever get past Hank and remain +Leslie Jones in the sheriff’s eyes? If only he +could get a moment’s speech with Hank alone. +But the sheriff was ever at his elbow. They had +made good time from Meeteetse, and so approached +Dry Creek and Sagehen Roost a full hour ahead of +the stage from Cody. This fact gave Ross courage. +With the stage-driver eliminated he had +only Hank to deal with.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Hank!" shouted the sheriff as they +dismounted in front of the corral. "Shake us up +some grub right away, will ye?"</p> + +<p>Hank appeared at the door. Ross dodged behind +the sheriff’s horse, and stooping over noted +the approach of Hank’s legs. When they had +borne their owner to the corral gate he straightened +up and saying loudly: "Hello, Hank!" scratched +the flank of the horse sharply with a pin he had +found under the lapel of his coat.</p> + +<p>"Wall, if there ain’t Doc Tenderfoot!" shouted +Hank, but got no further.</p> + +<p>The horse leaped forward, and, as the sheriff +sprang for its head, Ross managed to get Hank’s +ear for an instant:</p> + +<p>"Don’t give me away, Hank. Talk to him +and let me alone–understand–no names called. +Don’t talk to me nor about me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span>Hank stared his amazement, helped the sheriff +catch his mount, scratched his head until Ross’s +words had soaked in, and then obeyed them so +literally that when, half an hour later, Ross leaped +to his horse’s back, he was still Leslie Jones to the +taciturn sheriff, and Hank, tongue-tied for once, +was left standing beside the corral gate with a +multitude of questions unasked.</p> + +<p>Ross’s spirits arose. They were on the home +stretch now to Cody. There was not a house on +the way and only the stage to meet. Ross, forgetting +his rôle as a shamefaced prisoner, began to +whistle and plan what he should say to Leslie’s +father. His buoyancy was checked only when he +chanced to look over his shoulder and discovered +the sheriff looking at him not only with the puzzled +air which he had worn at Meeteetse, but, Ross +thought, with suspicion also.</p> + +<p>"I never seen a sober man arrested that took +arrest as you do," the sheriff declared riding to +Ross’s side. "Think this is a little picnic, don’t +ye?"</p> + +<p>"I’m trying to think just how it will turn out," +answered the boy seriously. "There’s the Cody +stage, isn’t it?"</p> + +<p>The sheriff reined his horse back, and, with a +flourish, the four horses swept past with Andy’s +foot jammed hard on the brake and Andy’s whip +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +cracking over the wheelers’ heads. Just in the +nick of time he recognized Ross.</p> + +<p>"Hi, there!" he shouted. "Doc, where’s yer +patient? And how is he?"</p> + +<p>Then, before any answer could be returned, the +stage was beyond reach of Ross’s voice, disappearing +in a cloud of dust.</p> + +<p>"What patient does he mean?" asked the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"It’s a fellow I helped when I first came out +here," answered Ross frankly. He was afraid of +the sheriff’s suspicions. "He was hurt in front of +Sagehen Roost, and as I know something about +surgery I–helped–to fix him up."</p> + +<p>The sheriff studied his horse’s ears. A look of +perplexity overspread his face. "I heard of that +down in Basin. But it seems to me that was before +you come." He looked hard at Ross. "The +McKenzies said<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" He stopped suddenly, and +bit his lips.</p> + +<p>Ross seized this pause to mutter, "It’s not so +long ago," and forged ahead on the trail, taking +good care to keep ahead until the lights of Cody +and the odor of the Shoshone River–"Stinking +Water"–smote their senses together through the +gathering darkness of the early December night. +Then the sheriff, straightening in his saddle, said +in a voice of authority:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span>"Come back here. We’ll ride neck and neck +now."</p> + +<p>Ross fell back, and asked his first question, and +no sooner was it out than he bit his lips savagely +in vexation at his own thoughtlessness.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Jones stopping at ’The Irma’?"</p> + +<p>"Who?" exploded the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jones," murmured Ross in confusion.</p> + +<p>The sheriff looked the boy over silently but intently +in the moonlight. The blood surged into +Ross’s face, and, despite the chill of the night wind, +the perspiration broke out on his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" was the only response to his question. +"Jones!"</p> + +<p>Then, with their horses neck to neck the two +rode over the bridge together and for the second +time entered the town to which Buffalo Bill has +given his name, Cody. On the other side of the +bridge, near the dust-deep road, stood a tent. The +flap was fastened back, and, within, seated about a +rough table, sat four men playing cards. When +the sound of horses’ hoofs reached the players, one +of them arose and came to the tent’s opening.</p> + +<p>It was Sandy McKenzie.</p> + +<p>The sheriff, still regarding Ross, did not look +toward the tent, while Ross, excited over the prospect +of meeting Leslie’s father, and confused by his +recent misspeech, scarcely bestowed a moment’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +thought on Sandy, whom he had known was in +Cody and believed to be the instigator of the arrest. +He glanced, however, within the tent as they passed +and recognized Waymart. The man sitting next, +his back to the open flap, his face bent over the +cards in his hand, one leg stretched out under the +table, looked strangely familiar to the boy, but he +was too preoccupied to give him any attention. +The fourth man, his face turned toward the riders, +was a stranger.</p> + +<p>A moment later, a man took the horses in front +of "The Irma," and the sheriff with his prisoner +walked into the lobby and up to the desk. Picking +up the pen, the sheriff thrust it into Ross’s +hand.</p> + +<p>"Register for yourself," he commanded briefly.</p> + +<p>Ross hesitated, glanced at the waiting clerk, +glanced at the suspicious face of the sheriff and +then, with a shaking hand, wrote: "Ross Grant, +Junior," and laid the pen down.</p> + +<p>The sheriff drew the register toward him with a +slowly purpling face.</p> + +<p>"That’s my name," declared Ross. He spoke +defensively, yet with a ring of exultation in his +voice. "You haven’t asked me for it before."</p> + +<p>The blood dropped out of the sheriff’s face. The +shivers ran down Ross’s spine at the anger in his +face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span>"What does this mean, you cub!" the sheriff +demanded furiously.</p> + +<p>"It means that I want to talk to Leslie Jones’ +father before he sees Leslie," announced Ross +boldly, "so I came with you. There was nothing +to prevent my coming."</p> + +<p>A hand fell on the sheriff’s shoulder. Sandy +McKenzie stood at Ross’s elbow. Sandy’s face +wore a curiously baffled expression, but he +nodded to Ross in much his usual nonchalant +manner.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Doc, you here? Didn’t expect to see +you. How’d you leave Leslie Jones?"</p> + +<p>There was an emphasis on the last name which +Ross did not notice. Neither did he notice the +shrewd observation in the questioner’s eyes.</p> + +<p>"I left him busy," the boy returned glibly, "and +so did the sheriff!"</p> + +<p>Once more the blood rushed into the sheriff’s +face, and in unselected language he had begun to +tell Ross what he thought of him, when Sandy +succeeded in drawing him aside and leading him +into the barroom, followed by Waymart and a +group that the conversation had attracted.</p> + +<p>After they had disappeared, Ross turned to the +clerk. "Is Mr. Jones stopping here?" he asked +confidently.</p> + +<p>"Nope," responded the clerk, leaning an elbow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +on the ledger. "What was it you put over the +sheriff?"</p> + +<p>"Not here!" Ross exclaimed, not hearing the +question. "Did you understand the name? I +want to see Mr. Jones." In his anxiety he raised +his voice.</p> + +<p>The clerk grinned. "There ain’t no man here +by the name of Jones."</p> + +<p>"But there must be," Ross insisted stupidly. +"There’s got to be! This is the only hotel in +town, isn’t it?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," grinned the clerk. "It’s the original +Waldorf-Astory all right. Where does this here +Jones hail from?"</p> + +<p>"Omaha." There was unlimited dismay in +Ross’s tone.</p> + +<p>"Hain’t got any one from Omaha here, and +hain’t had this winter."</p> + +<p>Ross pulled the register toward him and began +to scan the names. Instantly he exclaimed, +"Bully! Steele. I’d forgotten him. I’ll see<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Not this trip!" the clerk interrupted lazily. +"Ye must ’a’ met Steele. He went back on the +stage to-night."</p> + +<p>"Leonard, then. He’s here, isn’t he?"</p> + +<p>"Nope," replied the clerk nonchalantly. "He’s +in Basin. Home’s there, ye know."</p> + +<p>Baffled, perplexed, Ross turned again to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +register. The clerk had told the truth. There +had been no guest entered from Omaha or any +place further away than Montana in weeks. "See +here," he exclaimed finally, "do you know anything +about Leslie Jones, that went over to +Meadow Creek with a man named Wilson a few +weeks ago?"</p> + +<p>The clerk leisurely turned the pages until he +arrived at the entry sought. "Here they be," +he pushed the book across the counter. "Wilson +and Jones. They stayed here most a week. +Knew Wilson and remember Jones when he +was here."</p> + +<p>"And hasn’t his father been here?" asked Ross +eagerly. "Not at any time?"</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>"Haven’t you–haven’t you heard from him at +any time or–or known about him? I’ve got to +see the father," Ross burst out in irrepressible +confidence born of his distraction. "I’ve stopped +work and come all the way down from the Shoshones +to talk with Jones."</p> + +<p>"Can’t help it. Don’t know anything about +any Jones except this young one."</p> + +<p>At this point the clerk was called into the +dining-room. He left Ross standing beside the +desk staring at the register, confused and helpless.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span>"And right here I got the big head over the +way I had managed," he told himself in humiliation, +"and at the very last minute gave the whole +thing away!"</p> + +<p>Why couldn’t he have had the sense to play the +game far enough to see the end–and Leslie’s +father, he asked himself miserably. Now he had +simply made a fool of himself and angered the +sheriff and had not benefited Leslie. The sheriff +would probably turn about and go back after the +right boy. With this thought Ross straightened +his shoulders determinedly and turned toward the +barroom. As there was nothing to be gained by +silence he was going to ask questions. As he +turned, a man slid into the hotel in advance of +him–the man with the oddly familiar back.</p> + +<p>The sheriff, Sandy and Waymart were standing +together, and toward them Ross made his way +through clouds of tobacco smoke and past groups +of cowboys, railroad men and prospectors.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Doc!" called Sandy gaily. "Hump along +here and be sociable. What’ll you have? It’s on +me. Anybody," admiringly, "that’s smart enough +t’ fool the sheriff of Big Horn County can have +anything on me they’ll take."</p> + +<p>The sheriff turned his back on Sandy and +scowled. He did not glance at his late prisoner.</p> + +<p>"I don’t want anything," declared Ross shortly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +He planted himself resolutely in front of Sandy. +"But I’d like to know where Leslie Jones’ father +is?"</p> + +<p>Sandy smiled easily, while the scowl faded from +the sheriff’s face.</p> + +<p>"I ain’t no city directory, Doc," responded +Sandy, "and what’s more, I ain’t knowin’ of +any Leslie Jones! His end name ain’t any more +Jones than yours is. He’s fooled ye mighty bad–see?"</p> + +<p>The blood rushed to Ross’s face. "N-not +Jones?" he stammered. "Not Jones! What is +it then?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Doc, if he don’t want ye t’ know I ain’t +got a call t’ tell ye. Be reasonable." Sandy spoke +with maddening pleasantry and condescension. +"A feller’s name is his own, and if he wants t’ +keep it kinda fresh and unused I ain’t the one t’ +dig it up ’n’ let it get covered with dust. Better +go back t’ Meadow Creek and have it out with +Leslie."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, Ross, with a hot and angry +face, was back in the lobby. His indignation +burned against Leslie, who had, unconsciously, +helped to put him in the hole in which he found +himself. The subdued laugh which had marked +his retreat from the barroom rang long in his +ears. The sheriff’s laugh was the loudest.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span>"Arrest will serve him right!" muttered Ross +as he entered the dining-room. "There isn’t a +reason on earth why he shouldn’t have told me +his right name when he told me the rest."</p> + +<p>Angrily Ross ate his supper, glowering down at +his plate and not noticing the entrance of the +McKenzies with the sheriff.</p> + +<p>After supper he went up to his room. The door +was unlocked, the key having been long since lost. +A single electric bulb swinging over the dresser +was alight. Under the bulb lay a sealed and +soiled envelope. Ross picked it up and turning +it over came on the direction, "Doc Tenderfoot," +in a sprawling and carefully careless hand. Wonderingly +he opened the envelope. Within was a +note written with a lead pencil on the back of a +yellow advertising sheet. It ran:</p> + +<p>"Leslie’s name is Quinn, not Jones. His father +is A. B. Quinn, North Bend, Okla., or 14 Castle +Street, Omaha. He is in Omaha now waiting +for Leslie. Sheriff is to send him there. Mum is +the word about this note–to him or Leslie or the +McKenzies. If I did not know you were on the +square you would not get it to be mum about."</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span><a id='link_10'></a>CHAPTER X<br /><span class='h2fs'>A NEWCOMER ON MEADOW CREEK</span></h2> + +<p>"’<span class='sc'>Old</span> man Quinn!’" Ross cried aloud. +"’Old man Quinn’ and the sheep war. And +Leslie is his son!"</p> + +<p>It all came back, the story he had almost forgotten +in the stress of events on Meadow Creek, +the conversation on the train, old Sheepy’s tale +and, at last, his suspicions concerning Lon Weston +with his dyed hair. And when his memory +brought Lon into mental view, Ross’s face lit up +with a sudden flash of intelligence.</p> + +<p>"It was Weston that I saw in the tent, and it +was Weston that went into the barroom ahead of +me!"</p> + +<p>He laid the note on the dresser and, bending +under the electric light, studied it. There was +nothing to show who had written it except the +caution at the end. That might have emanated +from Waymart, but the language was better than +he would have used. Ross felt that it was Lon +Weston who had written that message. Of course, +if such was the case, and Lon was the fourth whom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +old man Quinn was looking for, that warning not +to give the unsigned writer away would be accounted +for. It might, in some way, be the clew +that would lead to Lon’s detection. Ross now recalled +how Lon had lain with one arm over his +face all the time that Wilson and Leslie had been +at the stage camp. He could not now recall +whether or not the injured man’s name had been +spoken in Leslie’s presence. But he did remember +that Leslie had said of the McKenzies that perhaps +they were men at some time in his father’s employ, +in which case he might not know them, but that +they would probably recognize him.</p> + +<p>"Then if he had heard Weston’s name it might +not mean anything to Leslie," Ross concluded.</p> + +<p>He wondered why Lon had not made himself +known that evening and wondered how he came to +know the McKenzies. In fact, he sat on the side +of his bed wondering about a dozen things until +midnight, and then went to bed undecided what +to do now that he had Quinn’s address in his +possession. His resentment kindled against Leslie +whenever he thought of the latter’s deception +about his name. And the probabilities were that +a letter from him, Ross, would not move the father +to clemency.</p> + +<p>In this undecided state of mind, Ross strolled +into the lobby the following morning, considering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +how he could best kill time until the stage started +for Meeteetse that evening. As he was standing +in front of a window, his hands deep in his pockets, +the sheriff and Sandy rode past, followed by +Waymart. Neither the sheriff nor Waymart +looked his way. But Sandy did, and, grinning, +raised his hand in a graceful salute. Ross, nodding, +felt his anger at Sandy dying. Distrust him +as he must, Ross could not dislike him. In this +strange state of mind, however, the boy was by no +means alone throughout the length and breadth +of Big Horn County.</p> + +<p>"They’re going now after the right chap," +thought Ross, and a wave of sympathy for Leslie +began to wash away his resentment.</p> + +<p>In the end, he spent the greater part of the day +composing a letter to old man Quinn, wherein he +set forth Leslie’s position, prospects and altered +feelings in bald statements containing but few +adjectives. In explaining who the writer was he +gave a brief account of his connection with the +sheriff. Between the acts of composing, tearing +up, and rewriting the composition, he searched +Cody for Lon Weston, but could not find him.</p> + +<p>When, that evening, he climbed into the stage +behind Andy, he had sent the letter to Leslie’s +father and had not caught a glimpse of Weston.</p> + +<p>At the stage camp he was the butt of much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +congratulation and derision from the hilarious Hank. +"Say, you made the sheriff mad as a hornet, but +he had t’ own up ye cheated ’im out of a year’s +growth. Sandy set the hull thing out in good +shape. But why didn’t ye stick t’ yer job instid +of layin’ down ’n’ kickin’ up yer heels before the +time?"</p> + +<p>"Because I’m no good, Hank, this side of the +Mississippi River," returned Ross in humility of +spirit. "Don’t knock me–you can’t get ahead of +me in that respect! I’ve kicked myself all over +Cody to-day."</p> + +<p>The following morning, at Meeteetse, he joined +Bill Travers and the Miners’ Camp stage and +started on the all day’s journey into the mountains. +At noon, he began looking for the sheriff +and Leslie. He had calculated that they would +meet the stage at the half-way ranch and there he +would tell Leslie what he had written his father. +But no Leslie appeared. All the afternoon during +the stage’s progress into the mountains, Ross +looked for the sheriff and his prisoner, but he +looked in vain.</p> + +<p>At six o’clock, Bill Travers dropped his one +passenger in front of Steele’s shack, and Ross, +climbing Gale’s Ridge, opened the door on the +superintendent in the act of sitting down to +supper.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span>"Hello, there!" cried Steele grasping the boy’s +chilled hand. "Here’s the best elk steak you ever +planted your teeth in. Draw up and tell me what +you’ve been up to, skylarking off to Cody with the +sheriff."</p> + +<p>Ross followed directions, and soon was giving +Steele the entire story of his capture and failure.</p> + +<p>Steele, forgetting to eat, alternated between +amusement and amazement. "By George, I don’t +wonder that sheriff was mad! You see, Doc, he’s +new to the business of being sheriff. You were +his first arrest."</p> + +<p>"Probably if he were not so new he wouldn’t +have been so easily fooled."</p> + +<p>"I can’t say," retorted Steele, "that he was +easily fooled. Strikes me you were about as slow +with him as greased lightning."</p> + +<p>Ross flushed at the praise. It was balm to his +wounds in his self-esteem.</p> + +<p>Early the following morning, he started for +Meadow Creek, and at the upper camp learned +something for which he was unprepared and which +was a source of temporary satisfaction to him.</p> + +<p>Leslie had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Until noon Ross lingered in camp watching the +sheriff and Sandy pass and repass in their search +for the runaway. Finally, just before noon, he +saw them on snow-shoes striking out up Wood +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +River caņon into the uninhabited wilderness +beyond. Then he slowly mounted the dizzy trail +leading to Weimer’s shack and the interrupted +work.</p> + +<p>"It must have been my note that warned him," +Ross thought as he watched the figures toiling up +Wood River caņon. "I hope they have the chase +of their lives," he said aloud, "and then I can +patronize Sandy and stroke him down as he did +me at ’The Irma’–provided I dare!"</p> + +<p>He found Weimer sitting beside the fire smoking +and growling over the absence of both his assistants.</p> + +<p>"Dot poy," he explained, "read dot paper you +wrote and den vat does he do, hein? He says +notings, aber he takes some tings and out he +goes und leaves me mit der vork und mit mine +eyes, und dey so pad!"</p> + +<p>This was the extent of the information he was +able to give Ross concerning Leslie. Many grievances +he had against the sheriff and "dem McKenzies" +that had ransacked the premises and +had ridden to and fro, over to Wilson’s and round +the mountains searching for traces of Leslie.</p> + +<p>As it turned out, they might have found a trace +of him had they searched more thoroughly, for +the following day, Ross, diving into the pocket of +his slicker for some nails that he carried there, +came on a folded note pinned in the bottom of the +pocket.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i5'></a><img src='images/i-202.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +BESIDE THE DYNAMITE BOX +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span>"All I understand from your letter," ran the +note, "is that it has given me a chance to make +my getaway. It was a mighty white thing of +you to do, and I appreciate it, though I know I +haven’t acted that way. You’ve probably found +out what my name is by this time. I didn’t tell +you, because I was so dead ashamed about the +whole matter that I hated to face myself and disgrace +the name. But I never thought father +would do such a thing as he has, and so I shall +clear out and stay cleared until he has stopped +hunting. I know where I’m going, and you’ll see +me in Meadow Creek after father goes back and +has given me up.–<span class='sc'>Leslie Jones Quinn</span>."</p> + +<p>Ross, standing on the dump beside the dynamite +box, a hammer in one hand, read the letter. At +once all his remaining resentment against Leslie +disappeared. "I guess I would have done the +same about the name in his place," he concluded.</p> + +<p>Pinning the note in his pocket again for safe +keeping he repaired the dynamite box. Then he +entered the tunnel, where Weimer was once more +at work drilling for a blast.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Jake," he asked, "when did Leslie +leave, what time in the day?"</p> + +<p>"It vas not day, it vas night," growled Weimer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +wrestling with the drill. "He vent avay mit +darkness."</p> + +<p>"That accounts," said Ross, "for his not having +been seen in camp."</p> + +<p>He felt certain that Leslie would take refuge in +the shack up Wood River caņon where Wilson +had stored some of the supplies in preparation for +the winter’s work on the coal claims. In this +case he would be discovered, for it was in that +direction that the sheriff and Sandy had gone as +Ross was climbing the Crosby trail. Therefore, +it was with anxiety that the boy looked for the +return of the McKenzies.</p> + +<p>Darkness had fallen when he left the tunnel +that night, and as he emerged from the trees that +clustered about the dump, he saw a light in the +McKenzie cabin. Without waiting for his supper, +he crossed the little valley and rapped on the +door.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Doc," came Sandy’s voice from within. +"Haul up the latch-string and show yerself. +Comin’ to crow over us, ain’t ye?" he continued +as Ross entered. "Well, that ye can, fer we can’t +find hide ner hair of Leslie, and the sheriff has hit +the trail to Basin about as mad as they make ’em +over the whole thing!"</p> + +<p>Here Sandy threw his head back and laughed +as amusedly as though the entire affair were a joke +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +of his own manufacture. He did not seem to +harbor the least resentment against Ross for having +blocked the wheels of his game. Rather, he applauded +the blocking frankly, while Waymart +smoked stolidly beside the table and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"That little note that you left for Less is what +done the business," Sandy went on cheerfully reviewing +the situation. "The sheriff had forgot +that note ’til we got up here and the bird wa’n’t t’ +be found in the hand ner the bush neither. That +was a neat little trick, Doc, almost as neat as the +way ye come it over the sheriff on the trail to +Cody. Guess he’ll not fergit ye fer a spell! Mart, +don’t be s’ stingy with that weed. Hand over +some. My pipe is about as empty as the sheriff’s +head."</p> + +<p>"Why did you do it, Sandy?" Ross burst out. +"What made you send word to Leslie’s father that +he was here?"</p> + +<p>Sandy composedly filled his pipe and lighted it. +"It was cruelty t’ little children not t’, Doc. The +very idee of Leslie Jones leavin’ his pa and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"His name isn’t Jones, and you know it, and I +know it!" interrupted Ross. He could not keep +the ring of triumph from his tone. "He is Leslie +Quinn."</p> + +<p>Sandy’s hand traveled slowly to his pipe. "Is +he? How’d you find out?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span>"Easily enough," said Ross carelessly, "when +you know how."</p> + +<p>Both Waymart and Sandy regarded the boy intently. +"Been back here then, has he?" they +asked in one breath.</p> + +<p>Ross arose. "’It would be cruelty to little children’ +to tell you!" he quoted boldly and opened +the door.</p> + +<p>Waymart gave an exclamation and sprang to his +feet. His hands were clenched. But Sandy, kicking +him under the table, guffawed.</p> + +<p>"Give and take, Mart," he exclaimed. "I’m +willin’ t’ chew my own words, and if I am willin’ +there ain’t no kick comin’ from you!"</p> + +<p>The following day Ross wrote another letter to +Leslie’s father and enclosed the note he had found +pinned in his pocket. This letter he entrusted to +Wilson to mail in Cody, for Wilson was going to +Butte for a few weeks before beginning his winter’s +work on his coal claims. He stopped at noon to +bid Weimer and Ross good-bye.</p> + +<p>"Nothin’ would hire me t’ stay over here all +winter," were his last words to Ross.</p> + +<p>Although the latter had seen but little of the +prospector, his departure made the valley seem +lonelier than ever, and caused Ross to cling desperately +to the idea of the McKenzies remaining. +As the days passed, and more snow fell, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +brothers began to get decidedly uneasy. They accounted +for their uneasiness to Ross by telling him +they were in need of supplies and saw no way of +getting any over from Miners’ Camp. Sandy was +the informant, as usual, while Waymart’s eyebrows +were lifted in momentary surprise. By that +time every horse in Miners’ Camp had been sent +"below." There was but little grass on the mountains +during the brief summer; and through the +winter, which occupied nine months of the year, +every ounce of fodder must be packed over the +difficult road from the ranches.</p> + +<p>"I don’t see," quoth Sandy unconvincingly, +"but what we’ll have to strike the trail. Hain’t +no way, as I can see, to pack grub over except on +our backs, and that’s too slow."</p> + +<p>For a moment there was silence in Weimer’s +cabin. The wind moaned and wailed among the +hemlocks, and whistled savagely past the cabin. +In his bunk Weimer snored. Above them came +the cry of the coyotes, like a child’s long-drawn +scream of pain and fear. The terror of loneliness +among those overhanging mountains gripped at the +boy’s throat. For a moment he could not speak.</p> + +<p>Then, "If you could get provisions over easily, +would you stay longer?"</p> + +<p>Sandy crossed his legs restfully. "Sure," he answered +readily.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span>That week, therefore, Ross used his spare time–and +some time which he ought not to have spared–in +making a sled. It was, when finished, a +crude but efficient affair, the runners being surmounted +by a double-decked box. This vehicle +he exhibited one day to the McKenzies as the +prospective conveyor of their supplies over the +mountains.</p> + +<p>Sandy stood in front of the shack, his hands in +his pockets, his cap pushed well back on his head +and the front lock of hair falling over his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Doc, you’re the stuff!" he cried warmly. +"There’s an idee or two floatin’ around in yer tenderfoot +brain, ain’t there?"</p> + +<p>Tied to both front and rear of the sled were +ropes, two in front, one behind. Those in front +differed in length.</p> + +<p>"See?" explained Ross. "Two can’t walk +abreast on the trail, but still it’s easier for each one +to pull on his own rope. That’s the reason I made +’em of different lengths. Then one of us behind +can hold the sled from slipping off the trail with +the rear rope. In this way we can bring up a big +load of supplies."</p> + +<p>Sandy removed his cap, and pushed back his +hair.</p> + +<p>"Doc, where was you raised? Guess I’ll go back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span> +t’ the same place, and be raised over agin. It +might pay." His tone expressed an admiration +that was almost genuine.</p> + +<p>Waymart said nothing. He scarcely glanced at +the sled, but turned away scowling up toward the +tunnel where, as he had informed himself, Ross +and Weimer were doing an amazingly good piece +of work.</p> + +<p>As they started back toward their own shack, +Ross heard Waymart say angrily to Sandy, "Are +you goin’ to take the use of that sled?"</p> + +<p>And Sandy’s answer, "For sure, now! What’s +eatin’ you, Mart? Doc’s got a good head on ’im."</p> + +<p>"Entirely too good fer us, mebby!" growled +Waymart; and Ross smiled in satisfaction, thinking +they referred to his work in the tunnel.</p> + +<p>Just before supper, the door of Weimer’s shack +unceremoniously opened, and Waymart’s arm was +thrust in. "Here," his voice said roughly, "take +this here elk steak."</p> + +<p>Ross relieved the arm of its burden, and the door +closed sharply. It was a sirloin steak, the juiciest +and most tender in the animal which the brothers +had brought into the valley the day before. Sandy +had often brought them venison before, but never +Waymart; and Ross was pleased.</p> + +<p>"While Sandy is entertaining," Ross had told +Steele, "and Waymart seldom says two sentences at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +one sitting, and next to never meets my eye, yet, if +it came right down to a choice, I believe I’d rather +travel along with Waymart than with Sandy."</p> + +<p>"Your choice is all right," Steele had replied. +"If Waymart would cut loose from Sandy, he’d +earn an honest living. It’s Sandy that’s the head, +though. It’s Sandy that plans; Waymart furnishes +the feet and arms. Sandy’s good company, but I +wouldn’t trust him with my pocketbook around +the corner. Not," Steele added, "that he’d steal it +in such a way that the law could touch him. No, +he’d have the pocketbook, but it ’ud leave him +free to look any jury in the eye and to shake hands +with me afterward."</p> + +<p>The new sled made its first journey down into +Miners’ Camp one Sunday in December two weeks +after Ross had ridden down with the sheriff. +Waymart went ahead with one of the leading-ropes +over his shoulder, and Sandy behind, steadying the +empty vehicle around the shoulder of Crosby. +Waymart led because he was the heaviest, and +there was a deep fall of snow to contend against +except around the shoulder, where, fortunately, the +wind had swept the mountain clean.</p> + +<p>As the trail broadened beyond, Waymart paused +to survey the low-hanging clouds. Ross, in the +rear, stopped and studied the mountains which +Nature had in ages past taken in her gigantic hands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +and flung into the caņon between Dundee and +Crosby, compelling Wood River to crawl and worm +and wind and cut its way deep and narrow down +into Miners’ Camp.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," exclaimed Ross suddenly to Sandy, +"what is beyond that conglomeration of peaks."</p> + +<p>"Wood River caņon still, clean over on top of +the Divide, and you can follow it on horseback +right through. Part of the time up there," waving +his hand toward the jumble of mountains +which seemingly ended the caņon, "it’s pretty +rocky trailin’, especially in winter, but it can be +done."</p> + +<p>Sandy rested one foot on the edge of the sled. +Waymart glued his eyes on the Camp far below. +From various projecting stovepipes volumes of +smoke were curling straight up in the windless air. +From the tunnel of the Mountain Company almost +opposite them came a succession of blasts which +stirred the echoes between Dundee and Crosby. +The Mountain Company were no respecters of Sunday. +They were also working day and night in +view of the near shut-down of the works.</p> + +<p>But Ross’s gaze was seeking to penetrate further +toward the source of Wood River. "Any one living +beyond there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Sandy grinned. "Elk, mountain-sheep, coyotes, +bears, and timber wolves."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span>"But no people?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. There ain’t a man livin’ ’twixt here +and the Yellowstone Park–now. Last summer a +few prospectors sort of strolled up Wood River a +few dozen miles, but they hiked it out, I tell ye, +when snow come."</p> + +<p>"I wish," Ross said impulsively, "that I could +go over there exploring."</p> + +<p>Waymart lifted his eyes the fraction of a moment, +and encountered Sandy’s. A peculiar expression +passed between them. Then Waymart’s +gaze fell again on the Camp, and Sandy replied +carelessly to Ross:</p> + +<p>"After you git the work done in your tunnel +better strike some of these trails, but not in winter. +They ain’t safe, especially for a tenderfoot."</p> + +<p>"But in the summer," returned Ross absently, +"I don’t expect to be here."</p> + +<p>"Oh–that so?" and Sandy gave the sled a +careless push.</p> + +<p>Waymart drew the rope over his shoulder, and +once more the trio descended the trail.</p> + +<p>At the upper camp Ross left the brothers to +purchase their supplies while he visited the post-office +and Steele. At the former place he found +a note to himself from Leslie’s father and a bulkier +letter addressed to Leslie in his care. Mr. Quinn +had received both of Ross’s letters, he wrote, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span> +last with the enclosure from Leslie. He had taken +the steps necessary to recall the warrant, which, he +explained, had seemed to him the "surest and +quickest way of fetching the boy home," and +would allow Leslie to return to Ross as his note +indicated that he desired. On his return Ross +was to give up the letter put in his care. Mr. +Quinn closed his communication with thanks to +Ross for the trouble he had been to, also, for his +assurance that Leslie was boning down to work!</p> + +<p>Two weeks had elapsed since Leslie disappeared. +Nothing had been seen of him nor heard of him +in either the upper or lower camps, and Ross returned +to Meadow Creek troubled in spirit.</p> + +<p>"I’m afraid," he told himself as he helped the +McKenzies haul their supplies up the trail, "that +I’ve made even a bigger mess of it all the way +around than I thought at first."</p> + +<p>Steele, from his doorway, watched Ross out of +sight that afternoon, with a pleased smile on his +bearded lips. He was a tanned and freckled Ross +now. Sun and wind and work in the open for +two months had left their marks on the boy. He +stood straighter, walked more firmly, and had laid +on pounds of muscle.</p> + +<p>"He’s put himself through good and plenty, +as well as holding Uncle Jake’s nose to the grindstone," +concluded Steele, turning back into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +cabin. On the making of the sled he had commented +but briefly to Ross, realizing how much +the presence of the McKenzies meant to the boy. +To himself he thought, however:</p> + +<p>"That Sandy McKenzie! How he does manage +to make other folks do his work!"</p> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>During the week which followed, a stranger +passed through Miners’ Camp. He was seen by +only one man, "Society Bill," who belonged to +the Gale’s Ridge outfit.</p> + +<p>"He asked the way to the Meader Creek trail," +Society Bill told Steele. "Now, I wonder if he’s +a new one of them McKenzies. I never set my +two eyes on ’im before."</p> + +<p>"Horseback?" asked Steele.</p> + +<p>"Yep. Decent sort of bronc he rode. Told me +to tell Bill Travers to drive it down below to-morrow +if it got down this far."</p> + +<p>"That looks as if he knew what he was about, +and intended to stay," mused Steele.</p> + +<p>Early the following morning the "decent sort +of broncho," with its bridle reins tied to the +pommel of the saddle, was discovered in front +of Steele’s shack, pawing the snow in an ineffectual +attempt to get a breakfast. Bill Travers, +returning with the stage, according to request, +drove the beast ahead of him down to the first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +ranch, and, taking off saddle and bridle, turned +it into a large corral with dozens of other horses +to winter. In the spring one by one the owners +would straggle along, identify their horses and +saddles, pay their bills, and depart for the mountains.</p> + +<p>The owner of the ranch pitched the saddle +under a shed, and thought no more about the +transaction. Bill Travers, whirling his whip over +the backs of his four stage horses, gave the stranger +and his horse no more thought. Society Bill, +having disseminated his news among the other +miners, presently forgot it. But Amos Steele +neither forgot nor ceased to speculate.</p> + +<p>"Who is he, and what is he doing on the +Creek?" Steele asked himself.</p> + +<p>The first part of the question Ross answered the +following Sunday. He could scarcely wait to open +the door before announcing:</p> + +<p>"Lon Weston is over on the Creek. He is +cousin to the McKenzies!"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span><a id='link_11'></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><span class='h2fs'>MEADOW CREEK VALLEY MISSES LESLIE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Ross</span> could scarcely believe the evidence of his +own senses when he saw Lon Weston riding along +the trail below the dump. The boy had pushed +the car with its load of ore out to the bumper and +dumped it before he saw the horseman in the +sheepskin coat, the hairy chaps, and a fur cap +drawn over forehead and ears. The horse shied +at the chunks of ore rolling almost to its feet, and +Weston looked up.</p> + +<p>"Hello, there!" shouted Ross. "What on earth +are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>Weston drew in his horse. "Hello, Doc!" he +returned with gruff pleasantness without answering +the question.</p> + +<p>"Doc" slipped and slid down the snowy path +to the trail, and held out a cordial hand.</p> + +<p>"How’s your leg?"</p> + +<p>"All right." Weston gripped the extended hand +heartily. "Almost as good ’s new."</p> + +<p>His brown eyes above his heavy stubby beard +held a pleasanter expression than Ross had seen +in them while nursing their owner. They were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span> +deep eyes, capable of mirroring accurately the +varied moods of the man looking out of them.</p> + +<p>"I didn’t recognize you in Cody three weeks +ago," Ross was beginning when Weston interrupted +him.</p> + +<p>Leaning down from his saddle he met the boy’s +eyes steadily. "Remember," he said slowly and +meaningly, "that you didn’t see me–nor hear +from me–in Cody."</p> + +<p>"All right," agreed Ross, embarrassed by the +fixity of the other’s stare. "I’ll forget it hereafter, +but I want to thank<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Cut it out," commanded Weston briefly, +straightening again in the saddle.</p> + +<p>"At least," invited Ross, "you’ll come to dinner +with me. Uncle Jake is frying ham and onions. +Smell ’em? I got some onions and half a dozen +apples over at Camp Sunday." His voice could +not have been more eager had he been relating the +finding of free gold. "Come on in, and have +some."</p> + +<p>Weston’s eyes slipped away from Ross’s in a way +which reminded the latter of Waymart’s, and +rested on the smoke from the cabin a quarter of a +mile away.</p> + +<p>"Guess not, to-day. Thank you just the same. +The boys are probably rustlin’ grub this minute +and they’ll be expectin’ me. See you again."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span>Ross stood motionless, looking after him. +Weston rode sitting straight, unlike the usual +careless forward droop of the cow puncher. He +was a well-built man, although his shoulders were +rather narrow. But the only characteristic that +Ross noticed was the grip of the left knee against +the horse. For the strength of that grip he was +responsible, but it was a responsibility which Lon +did not seem to recognize.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the boy realized the newcomer’s +words. So Sandy and Waymart were expecting +him, but had said nothing about it to Ross. And +when Ross had told them about Lon Weston at the +stage camp they had made no sign that they knew +him. That was strange.</p> + +<p>He turned slowly toward the cabin, where +Weimer was frying ham and onions and boiling +coffee. Opening the cabin door he was met by a +white gust of steam mingled with savory smoke. +He propped the door open, and brought in an +armful of wood.</p> + +<p>Weimer, in his shirt-sleeves, was bending his +head over a little stove, which offered barely room +for a small kettle and a skillet with a coffee-pot +sandwiched in between. A sheet-iron oven stood +on the floor, the top answering for a sideboard. +When Weimer made biscuits and sour dough +bread, the oven was placed on top of the stove.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span>Ross threw his wood down on the hard dirt +floor, and put a stick into the stove by way of the +wide front door. The pine instantly blazed up, +showing a wide crack which zigzagged across the +side of the old stove.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Jake,"–Ross sat back on one heel, and +looked up at his partner whose blinking eyes were +in the gloom of the cabin unprotected now by +goggles,–"Uncle Jake, a stranger has just come +into Meadow Creek City on the Limited."</p> + +<p>Weimer chuckled. Before the advent of his +youthful "pard" the old man–Ross always +thought of him as old despite his black hair and +great strength–had not laughed in months.</p> + +<p>"He stopped at the second station," pursued +Ross.</p> + +<p>Weimer’s face instantly darkened. "At the +McKenzies’? One of dem consarned gang, he +ist?"</p> + +<p>"That’s what I want to know. It’s Lon Weston, +the fellow I told you I took care of at the stage +camp."</p> + +<p>Weimer dumped ham and onions into an agateware +basin, and set it on the table. "I don’t +know him, I don’t. But he comes to der McKenzies, +hein? Und after all dose days you spen’ +mit him!" Uncle Jack frowned heavily, and, +sitting down, helped himself to boiled "spuds."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span>"I tink I knew all dem consarned gang, but dere +ist no Veston mit ’em."</p> + +<p>Ross dragged to the little bare board table a box +marked in big letters, "Ruford’s Canned Tomatoes, +The Yellow Brand," and, turning the box +on end, straddled it opposite Weimer.</p> + +<p>Weimer, eating and drinking noisily, found +time to ask vindictively, "Ist he for more medicine +come mit you?"</p> + +<p>Ross shook his head, and bent over his plate.</p> + +<p>The plate was tin. The cup out of which he +drank his coffee was also tin. His knife and fork +were steel, and his spoon was pewter. The place +of the lacking milk pitcher was usurped by a tin +can of condensed milk with the top bent back and +the milk dried all over the sides. But Ross ate–how +he ate! Potatoes followed ham, and coffee +followed potatoes, and onions followed both, and +then he began all over again. Never had eating +been such serious work with him. But never, +also, had his muscles been so firm and hard. As +for a pickaxe, it was coming to feel no heavier than +the baseball bat which he had always rather +scorned.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," he began after a pause, "what +Lon’s up to here, anyway."</p> + +<p>The question started Weimer on his favorite +topic, the claim jumpers and the injustice of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +mining laws. He could not talk fast enough in +English, and so dropped into his native German.</p> + +<p>Ross, accustomed to his tirades, cleared away +the dishes, pushed the table back against the dirt +chinked logs, and lay down on the blankets of his +bunk for a few moments, his eyes glued on the +little nickel clock.</p> + +<p>He broke into the other’s scolding monologue. +"In ten minutes we must go back to work."</p> + +<p>Weimer scowled darkly. His lids, red and +swollen, almost obscured his pale-blue eyes. +"Mine eyes ist too pad to-day," he declared. "I +vill not to go out in de sun again."</p> + +<p>A few weeks before, this oft-repeated declaration +had alarmed Ross. Now he made no reply. But, +when the hands of the nickel clock indicated one, +he arose and put on his oiled jumper and oilskin +cap.</p> + +<p>"Come, Uncle Jake," he said in a strong, decided +tone. "Here are your goggles. Get busy, or the +McKenzie outfit will have our claims in spite of +us. Now, when there are three to watch instead +of two, we must show the mettle we’re made of."</p> + +<p>Moved by the magic statement, ever new and +ever powerful, that the claims might be jumped, +Uncle Jake, forgetting that in substance he had +made the same objection to work twice a day for +weeks and that Ross had overcome his objections +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span> +in substantially the same way, "got busy." And +presently Ross led him out, his eyes not only +securely goggled, but covered as well with a black +cloth which he pressed fearfully against the goggles.</p> + +<p>The snow was Weimer’s evil genius. He lived +in dread of the sight of it. Without assistance he +would not move a dozen paces away from the +cabin after the sun had risen on Meadow Creek +Valley. But the fear of the light had made as great +an impression on his mind as the light itself had +made on his eyes, and he had fallen into the habit, +before Ross came, of staying in his cabin during +cloudy days, lest, if he ventured out, the sun +might break through the clouds.</p> + +<p>The old partner and the young went up the +steep trail to the tunnel, Ross leading Weimer up +over the side of the dump and into the mouth of +the tunnel. In the shelter of its gloom the latter +removed his goggles; and, stumbling along over +the chunks of ore lying beside the narrow track, +he reached the end of the short tunnel which had +been blasted from the solid rock. Lighting a fresh +candle, he set it in its socket at the end of a sharply +pointed iron, a miner’s candlestick, and, jabbing +the point into a crevice, leisurely surveyed the +wall before him. Behind him the little empty car +filled the tunnel with sound as Ross pushed it +rattling and jolting over the rusty rails.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span>"Ready to drill for another shot, ain’t we?" +Ross asked. He pushed the car back out of the +way. "Got to hustle to get it done this afternoon, +too."</p> + +<p>Under the stimulus of Ross’s presence and hustle +the older man fell to work valiantly, but it was +slow work. Down in Miners’ Camp machinery +performed the task which Weimer was doing laboriously +with the aid of a hand drill. Before him, +at the end of the tunnel, was a seamed and uneven +wall of rock a little higher than his head and a +little broader than his reach had he extended his +arms on either side. In this wall he patiently +drilled three sets of holes, into which the "sticks" +were placed for the next "shot," as the explosion +of dynamite was called. In mining terms the old +man was "putting a shot." Near the top of the +wall he made three holes. Half-way down were +two more, long and inclined toward each other at +the top. These were the "cut-in holes." Lastly, +at the foot of the wall were three large holes called +"lifters." The contents of the top holes and the +cut-ins were set off first, splintering and cracking +the rock. Then the lifters were exploded, actually +lifting the loosened mass above it and hurling it +into the tunnel.</p> + +<p>When quiet reigned again, and Ross had loaded +his hand car with the débris, he pushed it out on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +the dump again through the moist, freezing atmosphere +of the tunnel. There was water everywhere. +Near the mouth of the tunnel it was frozen on the +sides and the top, and carpeted the floor with slush. +Further in it was unfrozen, oozing out of the sides, +dripping from the roof, running along the track. +It covered the oiled garments of the men at work. +It put out their candles. It made muck of the +quartz dust on the floor. It often destroyed the +lighted fuses.</p> + +<p>There was something maddening to Ross in its +incessant drip and drizzle, and he always emerged +on the dump with a feeling of relief, especially +when the sun shone as it did that day in dazzling +brightness.</p> + +<p>He dumped the car, and was about to push it +back when his eyes fell on Weston’s horse journeying +on the back trail riderless.</p> + +<p>"That means," thought Ross, "that he’s going +to stay. Why?"</p> + +<p>A feeling of relief was mixed with uneasiness. +The relief was caused by this further link in the +chain of evidence that when the trail to Miners’ +Camp was closed it would not close on Weimer +and him alone. The uneasiness had to do with +the mission of the McKenzie outfit in Meadow +Creek Valley. Why were they reinforced by +Weston?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span>"Oh!" exclaimed Ross aloud in sudden disgust +with himself. "He’s come to hunt, of course! +His gun was strapped on behind. I never thought +of that. If he belongs to the McKenzie outfit, +he’d rather hunt than eat."</p> + +<p>It seemed to him that the "outfit" bore him +not the slightest grudge or ill will. Sandy, indeed, +seemed openly to like him, Waymart tolerated +him with a surly good humor, while Weston–here +Ross knit his brow–Weston baffled him completely; +still, considering the incident of the note +in Cody, the boy looked on him as a friend albeit +one who evidently did not care to pose in that capacity +before the McKenzies.</p> + +<p>From his position Ross could look down and +across on the claims of the McKenzies and almost +into the "discovery hole" in which they were +supposed to be working. Waymart was leisurely +drilling a hole in the rock to receive a stick of +dynamite when Sandy came out of the cabin and +walked rapidly toward him.</p> + +<p>The two talked together a moment, and then +Weston joined them. In a moment the three fell +apart, and appeared to be talking excitedly. Presently +Waymart dropped the discussion, and turning +his back walked away a few steps with his +hands in his pockets and stood in a listening attitude. +Ross watched with absorbing interest. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +Even at that distance he could see that the discussion +between the other two was not amiable. The +scene lasted but a few moments, and then all three +descended to the cabin together.</p> + +<p>That evening after supper, Ross washed the +day’s dishes, brought in wood, and put the room +to rights, while Weimer alternately smoked and +snored in his bunk. The room was dimly lighted +by candles in candlesticks thrust into logs. Ross, +so tired and sleepy he could scarcely keep his eyes +open, hung up the dish-pan on its nail beside the +stove, and looked longingly toward the emergency +chest pushed beneath his bunk. Not one word +had he mastered of the contents of the books he +had stowed away there with such high hopes.</p> + +<p>"I don’t believe the McKenzies are coming +over," he told Weimer, as he filled the stove and +wound up the clock. "It’s too late for them."</p> + +<p>Weimer made no reply. His pipe had fallen on +his chest, and his hair-encircled mouth was wide +open in a vacuous sleep. At that moment the rising +wind beat the snow against the window, and +Ross uttered an exclamation. He had forgotten to +shut the tool-house door, and, fearing that with +the wind in the south the little log house would be +filled with snow before morning, he went back up +the trail to the tunnel. Climbing noiselessly over +the soft snow, he arrived at the ore dump, and was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span> +making for the tool house across the mouth of the +tunnel when a light flickered in his path.</p> + +<p>Startled, he looked into the tunnel, and saw +three figures at the end silhouetted against the dim +candle-light.</p> + +<p>"Lon, Sandy and Waymart," he muttered.</p> + +<p>There was no danger of his being discovered, so +dark was the night. Therefore, he sat down on his +heels beside the tool house, and watched, puzzled +at first to understand the movements of the men.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he muttered suddenly, "they’re measuring +to see how fast the work is going."</p> + +<p>With a tape line the men were estimating the +cubic feet of rock excavated by Ross and Weimer.</p> + +<p>Ross hugged his knees, and exulted. His +"friends the enemy" might measure all they +chose, he thought; and every length of the tape +line would reveal to them the futility of waiting +to jump the Weimer-Grant claims.</p> + +<p>Presently the three started out of the tunnel. +Ross, seeking a hiding-place, found it behind a +clump of low spruce trees at the right of the +tunnel’s mouth. The intruders blew out their +candles as they came out on the dump.</p> + +<p>"At this rate," Ross heard Waymart say, +"they’re solid on these here claims."</p> + +<p>But, although he strained his ears, he could +hear nothing more. After a brief wait the last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +sound of twigs breaking under their shoes died +away; and Ross, leaving his hiding-place, shut +the tool-house door and went back to the cabin.</p> + +<p>He found Weimer awake and whistling in his +bunk. Ross paused at the door, regarding him +curiously. It was the first time he had ever heard +the old man make this cheerful sound, although +Steele had said he used to be called Whistling +Weimer as well as Dutch Weimer.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Uncle Jake!" cried Ross. "Feeling +pretty gay, aren’t you?"</p> + +<p>Weimer stopped in the middle of his tune, and +blinked at Ross. "Nein," he denied, "I ain’t +feelin’ gay. If your eyes vas<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross interrupted. "Now, see here, Uncle Jake; +you know your eyes are better since I’ve taken to +doctoring them."</p> + +<p>The last few weeks had certainly improved the +old man. His eyes were better, owing to a cooling +lotion which Ross had dropped under the lids +twice a day. Weimer’s mind was clearer because +his growing confidence in his young partner had +quieted his fears. Ross’s cheerfulness was also +contagious. Nor did the cleanliness on which the +boy insisted lower Weimer’s vitality. Soap became +a known quantity to him.</p> + +<p>All these favorable circumstances reacted on +Weimer’s work. He was becoming more and more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +efficient, and Ross’s spirits had risen as the days +passed; and he saw the growing intelligence +manifested by the other in regard to operations +in the tunnel. This change for the better in +Uncle Jake had not passed unnoticed by the +McKenzies.</p> + +<p>Ross said nothing to the old man about the +scene he had just witnessed in the tunnel. It +would do no good, and would only inflame the +other’s wrath. Therefore, he snuffed the candles, +repeating mechanically:</p> + +<p>"Don’t believe the McKenzies are coming over +to-night."</p> + +<p>But at that moment footsteps sounded outside +the door. The snow creaked under the pressure +of shoes, and Sandy and Waymart entered.</p> + +<p>Sandy was as gay and talkative as ever, but not +Waymart. He sat down on a box, leaned back +against the logs, turned up his coat collar to protect +himself from the icy wind, which sought out +the dirt-chinked crevices, and, pulling a mouth-organ +from his pocket, began to play. Nor did +he stop until Sandy rose to go. A sombre figure +he made back among the shadows, his eyes resting +vacantly on the floor at his feet. One leg was +crossed over the other, the toe moving in time to +the discordant music. Waymart’s thoughts did +not seem to be cheerful companions.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span>But Sandy had drawn a box close up beside the +roaring fire, and sat with his elbows on his knees +and a pipe in his mouth. He paid no attention +to Weimer nor to his musical brother, but told +Ross yarns of the gold-fields of Montana and +Nevada, tales concerning other men, Ross noticed; +Sandy never talked about himself.</p> + +<p>The evening passed and the men rose to depart +without having mentioned the newcomer; and +Ross, with the thought of their previous reticence +concerning him in mind, waited for them +to speak first.</p> + +<p>It was Sandy who spoke, but not until his hand +was on the door and Waymart stood outside the +cabin. Then he said carelessly, as though Ross +had never seen Weston before, and as though the +coming of a relative was an every-day event in +Meadow Creek Valley:</p> + +<p>"Cousin hiked it over the mountain to-day. +We’re goin’ t’ strike th’ trail over t’ the Divide +to-morrow, huntin’. He’s great on game."</p> + +<p>"So," thought Ross, "I’m right. It’s hunting +that has brought him here."</p> + +<p>The next morning at daylight, Ross, eating +breakfast, chanced to glance out of the dirty +west window. Up near the summit of Soapweed +Ledge, which met Crosby at right angles, +he saw three figures advancing single file. Each +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +carried a gun, and had a small pack and snow-shoes +strapped on his back.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Jake," asked Ross suddenly, "have you +ever been over to the Divide?"</p> + +<p>Weimer shook his head. "No, I stay home and +attend to pizness."</p> + +<p>"Haven’t you ever crossed that mountain?" +Ross indicated Soapweed Ledge.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What’s beyond?"</p> + +<p>"More mountains," answered Weimer vaguely, +"und peyond dem more und more."</p> + +<p>It was a week before the hunters returned, a +long lonely week for Ross. Each morning he +told himself hopefully that before night Leslie +might return, but, to his increasing dismay, no +Leslie came.</p> + +<p>"Can it be that an accident has happened to +him, somewhere, alone, or has he changed his +mind about coming and gone back home?"</p> + +<p>Ross asked himself this question as he stood at +the mouth of the tunnel one morning staring in +the direction of Soapweed Ledge. A heavy snowstorm +had set in that morning, and in the afternoon +the falling snow shrouded the Ledge in a +white veil out of which the three men now +emerged, moving slowly across the little valley. +Their snow-shoes were on their feet, and in place +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +of the light packs with which they had started +their shoulders were bent under loads of venison.</p> + +<p>The McKenzies had returned.</p> + +<p>That evening Waymart appeared at Weimer’s +door with a goodly portion of meat, at which Ross +looked dubiously.</p> + +<p>"You’ve given us so much already," he hesitated.</p> + +<p>Waymart interrupted. "Jerk it," he directed +briefly. "Jerked meat makes a good stew when +ye can’t git no fresh meat." He turned sharply +to Weimer in his bunk. "See here, Uncle Jake, +have ye forgot how t’ jerk venison?"</p> + +<p>Weimer crawled out of his bunk, scowling. +"Vell, I haf nicht dat. I guess I jerk him so +gud as anypody."</p> + +<p>"Get about it then!" retorted Waymart with +rough kindness. "Here’s a meat knife to shred +it up with."</p> + +<p>He laid a large, sharp knife on the table, and +cut Ross’s thanks short by an abrupt departure.</p> + +<p>Weimer, grumbling at the interruption to his +rest, cut the meat in long, thin strips, which, he +told Ross, were to be nailed to the outside of the +shack after the storm had passed. But in the +morning, Ross, objecting to a process which +brought the meat into contact with the dirty +logs, stretched a cord between two trees, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +over it, in the sunshine, folded the strips clothespin +fashion, leaving them for the air to cure and +dry.</p> + +<p>For two or three days the McKenzies did not +visit their neighbors. Ross saw them outside +their shack occasionally, and something in the +air and attitudes spoke, even at that distance, of +disagreement.</p> + +<p>One evening at six o’clock Weimer stumbled +out of the tunnel alone and down the path, the +darkness robbing the snow of its terrors. A few +moments later, Ross, having laid the dry sticks in +the drilled holes in the end wall of the tunnel, +lighted the fuses, and, candle in hand, made for +the mouth.</p> + +<p>He came out on Lon Weston sitting on a stump +which projected above the dump.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Doc," greeted Lon Weston.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Weston." Ross was so astonished to see +him there that he nearly forgot to count the explosions +that just then thundered in the tunnel behind +him.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three, four, five." That accounted +for the five sticks.</p> + +<p>He leaned against the tool house, and looked at +Lon through the dusk. Lon’s cap was pulled +down over his eyes. His sheepskin collar was +turned up, meeting the cap. All that was visible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +of his face was a bit of beard protruding around +the stem of the pipe. But the voice sounded a +more amiable note than it ever had in the stage +camp, although his manner revealed an uneasy +embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Well, Doc, how d’ye like minin’?"</p> + +<p>"I don’t like it at all," replied Ross honestly.</p> + +<p>"Seems t’ like you all right," returned Lon. +"You’re in better flesh and color than you was +down on Dry Creek."</p> + +<p>"So are you," retorted Ross, laughing.</p> + +<p>Lon made no reply. He moved restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Done any studyin’ in that pile o’ books ye had +along?" he asked abruptly after a time.</p> + +<p>"No." Ross’s tone was crisp. "Haven’t +studied a word." The subject was a tender one +with him.</p> + +<p>There ensued a pause. Ross opened the door of +the tool house, and threw in his pick and shovel. +He hitched the legs of his high rubber boots +nearer his body; and then, as Lon made no move +toward going, he swung his numbed hands briskly.</p> + +<p>"I thought," Lon began again in a constrained +and hesitating way, "that you was mighty anxious +about those books. I thought your goin’ to some +college or other depended on your gettin’ outside +of those books."</p> + +<p>Ross struck his hands rapidly together. "I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +can’t study," he answered briefly. "I get too +tired working."</p> + +<p>Weston arose and faced toward the cabin of the +McKenzies.</p> + +<p>"Another storm comin’," he announced. "Get +here day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"That’s Christmas," muttered Ross. His heart +contracted sharply, and a homesick pang assailed +him. In his ignorance, before leaving home, he +had set Christmas as the date of his return.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span><a id='link_12'></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><span class='h2fs'>A CALAMITY BEFALLS ROSS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Ross</span> was writing to Dr. and Mrs. Grant. He +bent over the rough table under the light of two +candles stuck into the logs above his head. Weimer +slept in his bunk the sound and noisy sleep +of a tired laborer.</p> + +<p>"At the rate we’re going at present," Ross wrote, +"we’ll finish work by the middle of May.... +We have at least one thing to be thankful for in our +tunnel. We’re not obliged to timber it. Of course, +blasting through solid rock isn’t easy nor fast +work, but I guess in the long run we get along +faster than we would through dirt. In this case, +you see we should be obliged to snake logs down +from the mountainside and build side walls and +roof in the tunnel for our own safety. How’s +’snaking’ for you, Aunt Anne? First time I +heard it I hadn’t an idea what it meant, but it +covers the process of cutting down trees and getting +them to their destination. Tell you what! +We speak some language up here. The King’s +English isn’t always in it, but then every one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +understands, and I have fallen into using it as easily +as a fish takes to water. And I am getting hardened +to the work and the weather. I wouldn’t +mind the whole thing so much now if only the +way to Miners’ Camp would remain open. But +any day it may become practically impassable, and +then I cannot hear from you nor you from me for +months. That–as I look ahead–is the tough +part of it, being cooped up here with only five of +us; and how the McKenzies can remain without +laying in more provisions I don’t see. They have +meat enough, but that’s all. With this letter I’m +taking another over to Camp for Leslie’s father. I +ought to have sent him word before that Leslie +hasn’t been seen nor heard of since he disappeared, +but every day I’ve looked for him back–the +whole affair worries me a lot–I should think as +soon as he gets my letter, old man Quinn would +come and hunt Leslie up himself."</p> + +<p>At this point there was the sound of laughter +outside, and Ross laid aside his pencil and pad.</p> + +<p>"Sandy," he muttered, listening.</p> + +<p>To his surprise it was not Sandy whom the +opening door revealed, but Lon and Waymart, +both in unprecedented high spirits.</p> + +<p>"We left Sandy snorin’," Waymart volunteered. +"He and Uncle Jake ought to bunk in together. +Lon, show Ross how Sandy talks in his sleep."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span>Weston sat down, leaned his head back against +the logs, gave one or two passes through his hair, +which left it arranged like Sandy’s with a lock +falling over his forehead; and in an instant, although +Weston was dark and Sandy fair, an excellent +imitation of the latter mumbled and talked +and snored against the logs. Weston accurately +and easily imitated the voice and manner of Sandy +with his laugh and every facial characteristic. +Even Weimer rolled over in his bunk and laughed. +Next, Weston, carried out of himself by an appreciative +audience, imitated Waymart, the sheep-herder +at Dry Creek, and finally Ross himself, and did it +all with amazing success.</p> + +<p>Ross, convulsed with laughter, rocked back and +forth on his box. It was the first real fun he had +encountered since leaving Pennsylvania. It did +not seem possible that this Weston was the same +half-sullen, wholly silent man whom he had nursed +at the stage camp.</p> + +<p>Ross sat opposite the window in front of which +Weston was performing; and finally, just as +Waymart had called for an imitation of Weimer, +the boy, glancing up, encountered Sandy’s face +outside the dirty pane. It remained there but an +instant while Sandy took the measure of the performer, +but that instant was enough to show Ross +the full expression of which he had caught glimpses +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +before, and which revealed the side of his character +that Sandy usually concealed. His blue eyes +glinted angrily. His thin lips, tightly closed, +wore a cruel expression, while every feature clearly +showed a malignant disapproval of Weston’s +methods of entertainment.</p> + +<p>The laugh died in Ross’s throat; but the next +instant the door swung open and Sandy entered, +gay and careless–except as to eyes. They still +glinted.</p> + +<p>"Thought ye’d shook me, didn’t ye?" he asked +with a grin. "Wall, this racket would bring a +feller up from his grave, to say nothin’ of a little +snooze."</p> + +<p>He pushed a box over on its side, and sat astride +it; and at once the atmosphere in the cabin +changed, and became frigid, despite the newcomer’s +gaiety. Weston slunk back to his seat, and all +Ross’s urging proved ineffectual to draw him out +of his shell again. Waymart’s face also lost its +good humor.</p> + +<p>Presently the three left together.</p> + +<p>Weimer, wide awake, moved around the shack.</p> + +<p>"Dat Veston!" he chuckled. "How many +kinds of beoples ist he? I could shut mine eyes +and tink he vas dem all."</p> + +<p>The next day was Sunday, and early in the +morning in the teeth of a mild wind and threatened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +storm Ross was off for Miners’ Camp. As far as +the shoulder around Crosby he went on snow-shoes. +Arrived at the shoulder, and, making use +of the long, sharp spike which he carried, he +picked his way cautiously forward, pushing +through the deep snow in the trail with his feet +and knees, the spike set on the outer edge to prevent +his slipping. Again and again a ledge of +overhanging snow would break away and fall on +him; and, light even as the snow yet was, its +weight dropping on his shoulders caused him to +stagger. The snow-shoes also became a burden, +for they were a useless encumbrance until he +reached the foot of the mountain and struck out +for Steele’s shack over two miles of snow already +five feet deep.</p> + +<p>When he reached Gale’s Ridge, he was almost +exhausted, not only from pushing through the +snow on the trail, but from the unaccustomed +effort of walking on snow-shoes. Already he was +dreading the most difficult task of all–the return +journey.</p> + +<p>Steele met him with a manifest uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Grant, your trips down to Camp this season +are numbered," he cautioned as they sat down to +an early dinner. "An old trailer could creep +around the shoulder of Crosby for a little while +yet, but neither you nor I could do it in safety. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +The snow’s gettin’ so almighty deep now, and +blowin’ up in ledges on the shoulder–you probably +got a ducking coming over?" His tone +arose inquiringly.</p> + +<p>Ross nodded. "Several times a lot of snow +dropped on me; once I almost lost my balance."</p> + +<p>Steele moved uneasily. "That’s the trouble +with that trail even before there’s danger of a +regular avalanche. You’re likely to get swept +over when you least expect it, and going back is +worse than coming."</p> + +<p>Directly after dinner Ross commenced to bind +on his snow-shoes for an early departure, having +filled his pockets with candy for Weimer. His +heart was heavy, and he had a queer, choky sensation +as he looked around the little shack, which +he might not see again in months.</p> + +<p>Steele was adjusting the straps on his own snow-shoes.</p> + +<p>"Going up the caņon with me, are you?" asked +Ross.</p> + +<p>Steele nodded, and got into his top-coat. "A +little way," he answered briefly.</p> + +<p>Although it was only one o’clock in the afternoon, +twilight had fallen. The clouds rolled up +the caņon so low that they hung almost within +reach of the men’s hands, although not much snow +was yet falling. An indescribable gloom filled the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span> +caņon, the gloom of utter isolation and loneliness. +Not a breath of wind was stirring; not a movement +of a tree was audible. Everywhere were the +deep snow, the silent trees, the great white hulks +of the mountains; and over all the clouds glowered +sullenly.</p> + +<p>Nature had erected sudden and impenetrable +barriers in all directions, and Ross felt as though +he were striving against them all.</p> + +<p>In silence the two traveled the distance which +lay between Gale’s Ridge and the upper end of +Miners’ Camp, which was at present a deserted +end. When they passed out of sight of the eating +house on Gale’s Ridge, they left behind them every +sign of life. The Mountain Company had shut +down two weeks before. A few men had gone to +Steele, but the majority had betaken themselves +"below." Their shacks stood as the owners had +left them, with their stoves, their crude furniture, +and in some cases provisions, intact.</p> + +<p>The stage was due now only once a week, and +the post-office had been removed to Steele’s cabin. +The former postmaster had gone to work on a +ranch on the Grey Bull, leaving the post-office +doors wide open, the snow filling the cabin and +banking up against the letter boxes.</p> + +<p>"By April," said Steele, "you can’t see even the +roof of a single one of these places down here next +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +the river. They’ll all be plumb covered with +snow."</p> + +<p>Steele did not stop, as Ross supposed he would, +at the foot of Crosby, but started up the trail.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" demanded the boy.</p> + +<p>The superintendent went on. His reply came +back muffled by the heavy air. "Around the +shoulder of this little hill."</p> + +<p>Nor could any protest from Ross restrain him.</p> + +<p>As they began the ascent, Ross found the moisture +hanging in drops to his clothing, while his face +felt as though it were being bathed in ice-water. +At the same time the clouds settled all about them.</p> + +<p>"This is literally walking with our heads in the +clouds," muttered Steele grimly. "And this is +the weather that’ll pack the snow in this trail with +a crust as hard as earth–ugh!"</p> + +<p>They ascended the trail laboriously, Steele in +the lead, Ross lagging behind, leg-weary, and +heavy-hearted at the thought of the months to +come. Around the shoulder of the mountain they +cautiously felt their way, the thick clouds about +them seeming to press back the banks of snow +above.</p> + +<p>Once on the safe trail beyond the shoulder +Steele turned, and held out his hand without a +word. Also wordless, Ross gripped it. Then the +older man took the back trail, and disappeared.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span>The boy stood where the other left him, staring +into the clouds which hid the shoulder. As he +stood, a slight breeze touched his cheek and died +away. He buckled his snow-shoes on again, and +faced Meadow Creek Valley. As he did so, the +breeze came again. Presently it turned into a +wind, and the clouds retreated hastily up the +mountainside. Great flakes of snow filled the air. +Faster and faster they came swirling down until +the air was thick with a storm which cut sharply +against Ross’s face. He hurried on, and in an +hour was beyond the reach of the storm in Weimer’s +shack, drying his wet coat and cap.</p> + +<p>He found his old partner half wild with anxiety.</p> + +<p>"If you did not come pack to-night," he cried, +"I thought you would never! A plizzard ist +now."</p> + +<p>So rejoiced was Uncle Jake at Ross’s return that +he sat near the fire and waxed garrulous while the +wind lashed the trees and drove the snow outside; +and Ross, the other side of the stove, shivered and +listened listlessly.</p> + +<p>"What ails you, hein?" Weimer finally demanded.</p> + +<p>And Ross, with a lump in his throat of which +he was not ashamed, told him.</p> + +<p>"Ach!" exclaimed Weimer disgustedly. He +snapped his thumb and finger together. "I vas +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span> +here dree vinters alone mit no one near. Py day +I vorked. Py night dem volves howl und cayotes; +but," consolingly, "dey can’t git in, und +dey vant nicht to git in."</p> + +<p>Then for the first time he went on to relate to +Ross in his quaint and broken English many +stories of those lonely winters in this solitary valley, +which had then held him as its only inhabitant.</p> + +<p>"No wonder," thought Ross, listening to the +fury of the storm, "that the old man’s mind was +ready to give away under the additional trial of +an attack of snow-blindness."</p> + +<p>The blizzard continued in unabated fury all the +next day. Neither Weimer nor Ross visited the +tunnel. They remained housed, watching the +snow gradually pile itself around the little shack +until the two small windows were obscured, and +they were obliged to resort to candle-light.</p> + +<p>But during the night the wind changed, and the +following morning the sun rose in a brilliantly blue +sky. Directly after an early breakfast Ross started +to shovel a way out of the cabin. He dug the +snow away from the door and windows, and then +turned his attention to the trail leading to the tunnel. +Here he found that the wind had favored him, +sweeping the path clean and filling up the hollows. +In the valley the snow lay seven feet deep.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span>Ross worked his way to the ore-dump, at the +base of which he paused to look down on the McKenzies. +Their cabin was also released from the +snow as to door and window. The snow was also +tramped and shoveled around the discovery hole, +but no one was in sight, and Ross had turned again +to his task when a yell caused him again to face +the McKenzie cabin.</p> + +<p>Sandy was gesticulating frantically while he advanced +rapidly on snow-shoes, dodging the trees +as he came diagonally across the mountainside. +He came on, talking at the top of his voice, but all +Ross could catch was "sticks" and "thief" and +"trail." Sandy was plainly excited. His neckerchief +was knotted under one ear; his coat was buttoned +up awry; his cap was on with one ear-flap +dangling, and the other held fast by the rim of the +cap. His ears and nose were scarlet, the thermometer +registering, that morning, thirty below +zero.</p> + +<p>"Our dynamite is gone," Sandy yelled when he +was near enough to make Ross understand. "Gone–stolen."</p> + +<p>Ross stared at him stupidly. "Who is there to +take it?"</p> + +<p>"Some one," panted Sandy with an oath, "must +have come up the trail Sunday and taken the stuff, +thinkin’ that it ’ud storm right off and shut up the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +trail so none of us ’ud be such fools as t’ go over t’ +Camp after more. That’s the way I’ve figured it +out, and I lay ye I’m right."</p> + +<p>"When did you find out the sticks were gone?" +asked Ross with an interest which did not as yet +reach beyond Sandy.</p> + +<p>"A few minutes ago," gasped Sandy. "I come +as fast as I could to see if your<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross cut him short with a loud exclamation, and +without waiting to hear the end of the sentence +turned and plunged up over the dump, ploughing +and fighting his way through the snow as though +it were a thing of life.</p> + +<p>Sandy picked up the wooden shovel which the +boy had cast away, and followed out of breath, but +still talking.</p> + +<p>"You know we kept the sticks in a box under +a hemlock right above the hole, and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross, unheeding, floundered across the dump, +and began to dig wildly at the tool-house door, only +the upper part of which was visible. With set +teeth he dug, forgetting Sandy, forgetting the +shovel, his common sense swallowed up in a panic +of fear.</p> + +<p>Weimer had always kept the dynamite sticks in +a box, a large double boarded and heavily lidded +affair which was set in the corner of the tool chest +furthest from the door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span>At first Ross had raised the lid of this box with +chills creeping down his spine. His hair had +stirred under his cap when he first saw Weimer +stuff the sticks carelessly into his pocket and enter +the tunnel. But familiarity with the use of the +sticks had robbed them of their terror, although +Ross was always cautious in the handling.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Doc." Sandy’s voice at his elbow +finally brought the frantic boy to his senses. "Ye +can’t do nothin’ with yer hands. Stand aside +there, and I’ll shovel the snow away from the +door."</p> + +<p>Ross stood back, unconscious of the nip of the +cold on his nose and cheeks, and watched Sandy +shoveling with a will, the while talking consolingly.</p> + +<p>"I don’t believe the thieves have come anigh ye; +don’t look so, anyway. It’s likely some one who’s +a grudge against some of us. There’s plenty holds +grudges agin Lon. Wisht he’d stayed in the valley–here +ye be! Ketch a holt of this side of the +door. Now, one, two, three!"</p> + +<p>The door yielded to their combined efforts, and +Ross rushed in with Sandy at his heels. His fingers +were so numbed he could scarcely raise the lid +of the dynamite box. A film seemed to cover his +eyes, and in the light which entered grudgingly +only by way of the door he could see nothing. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +bent his head further over the box, but it was Sandy’s +voice which confirmed his worst fears.</p> + +<p>"Not a stick left. They’ve made a clean sweep +of Medder Creek Valley!"</p> + +<p>The film cleared from Ross’s eyes, but not from +his brain. The box was empty–the box which +had contained the stuff absolutely necessary to the +work in the tunnel.</p> + +<p>Ross glanced up and met Sandy’s eyes. Sandy’s +eyes looked steadily and guilelessly into Ross’s, +and Sandy’s face expressed all the sympathy and +commiseration of which Ross stood in need.</p> + +<p>The boy sat down on the edge of the box. +"What shall I do?" he asked, his thoughts in a +whirl.</p> + +<p>"Do about th’ same as we’ve got t’–git out!" +quoth Sandy with a lugubrious shake of his head. +"Here we got Lon up here t’ help push our work, +and now we’re up a stump; for ye know"–here +Sandy’s eyes held Ross’s while he spoke slowly–"there’s +no use thinkin’ about gittin’ any over +from Camp. No one ’ud be crazy enough to resk +packin’ a load of sticks around the shoulder this +time of year."</p> + +<p>Ross shivered as he thought of the shoulder +under its body of snow.</p> + +<p>"When are you going?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," answered Sandy promptly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span> +"We’ll start then, but we’ll have to shovel +through. You’ll have t’ lead Weimer, won’t ye?"</p> + +<p>Ross swallowed twice before he answered. +"Yes, I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"We’ll help ye." Sandy’s tones were good-natured +and soothing. He seemed suddenly to +have lost all regret at the disappearance of his +store of dynamite. "We’ll break open the trail, +and then we can rope ourselves together around +the shoulder. That’s safer."</p> + +<p>"All right," Ross heard himself say in an unnatural +voice. He could not in an instant adjust +himself to this radical uprooting of his plans.</p> + +<p>"It’ll be a ticklish job," Sandy continued, "t’ +break through around the shoulder without +bringin’ down the hull side of old Crosby on +us, includin’ a few rocks; but every day now we +put it off is so much the worse."</p> + +<p>He turned to go. "Then we’ll pick ye up in +the mornin’; will we?"</p> + +<p>"Why–I suppose so," returned Ross. "There +doesn’t seem to be anything else to do."</p> + +<p>"Better not load up much," warned Sandy; +"and don’t give Uncle Jake a load at all. All +we’re goin’ to try to pack over is a little venison."</p> + +<p>Then Sandy disappeared, and Ross suddenly +recovered from his mental numbness. It was the +sting of anger which aroused him. So confused +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span> +and disappointed had he been, and so well had +Sandy played his part, that the true solution of +the theft did not dawn on the boy until the other’s +departure. Then he stopped short on the downward +trail and uttered an exclamation, his hands +clinching inside his mittens, and his eyes narrowing +and flashing.</p> + +<p>Of course, it was Sandy’s own brain which had +planned the matter and Sandy’s own henchmen +who had made off with the sticks. They had taken +this way of stopping the progress of work in the +tunnel. They had waited until no more dynamite +could be brought over the trail, calculating that +when the time came for the claims to be patented +one half year’s work would be undone, and then!</p> + +<p>Ross started blindly down the path. He would +go over to the Camp with the McKenzies. He +would go down to Meeteetse with them–no officer +of the law could be found nearer, and there he +would put them all under arrest. Here he stopped +again. Arrest them on what evidence? Face to +face with this question, he was obliged to acknowledge +the neatness of the scheme which had for its +first point the theft of their own sticks. Could +he prove that no one had come over the trail after +he reached the valley? And could he prove that +the dynamite had not been taken by this mythical +some one?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span>Ross thought of what Steele had said concerning +trusting Sandy with his pocketbook. Sandy would +have the contents of the purse, Steele said, but he’d +take care to get them in such a way that he could +shake hands afterward with the owner, as well as +face any jury.</p> + +<p>"And Steele," Ross muttered, drawing a long +breath, "was right."</p> + +<p>The news of the loss seemed to jar Weimer back +into a semblance of his former intelligence. Instead +of ranting as Ross expected he would he sat +down and talked over the situation reasonably +with his young partner. It was Weimer, in fact, +who restored something like hope to Ross.</p> + +<p>He objected to leaving the valley with the +McKenzies. He had been over that valley and +the surrounding mountains inch by inch, he told +Ross. Let that "consarned gang" be gone. They +two would stay and bring the dynamite to light. +Then he told of place after place on the mountain +which would make excellent hiding-places for the +sticks. There were many caves, and some of them +dry. Weimer reasoned the "gang" would cache +the sticks in a dry place for their own future use.</p> + +<p>Temporarily the old partner and the young +changed places, and, as Ross listened, he became +stout of heart once more.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he exclaimed, "if dynamite can’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +be carried up the trail, neither can it be taken back +into Camp. It’s got to be somewhere around here; +and, if we hunt for it a month, we can still get the +work done in time."</p> + +<p>"Vy didn’t I tink of dem sticks?" Weimer +asked angrily. "I might know dem consarned +gang pe up to somet’ing ven dey see our vork it +vas gettin’ fast! Vy didn’t I tink?"</p> + +<p>Ross, having lapsed into his own thoughts, +made no reply; and Weimer arose from the box +where he had been sitting, and crawled into his +bunk.</p> + +<p>Ross paced the floor slowly, his arms folded behind +him. Ross’s fighting blood was up. Before +this he had looked at his work as the result of his +father’s request. It was not to his liking, and the +only actual pleasure he took in it was the prospect +of finishing it. He had believed before the theft +of the sticks that he would welcome anything +which really necessitated his leaving Meadow +Creek Valley, although he would accept nothing +less than necessity.</p> + +<p>But this theft seemed suddenly to have made +the work his own and the failure to accomplish it +a personal defeat. Instead of rejoicing over the +prospect of leaving Meadow Creek Valley he welcomed +eagerly Weimer’s suggestion that they stay +and hunt for the dynamite, even though the hunt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +meant that, dynamite or no dynamite, they must +be shut up in the valley for months to come.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a new fear caused him to scramble +hastily into his coat, cap, and mittens.</p> + +<p>"I’m going to fetch the tools down," he explained +grimly. "I’m not going to risk having +some one make off with them!"</p> + +<p>"Dat ist so," assented Weimer. "Ve vill need +dose tools; ve vill. Dose McKenzie gang vill see. +I can find dose sticks, und I know I can."</p> + +<p>None of the McKenzies came over that evening, +to Ross’s relief, for the events of the day had +brought a new fear of that outfit. Sandy’s good-natured +neighborliness had deceived him. Now +for the first time he realized that they were actual +enemies, ready to stoop to any means within the +law to baffle him.</p> + +<p>It was scarcely daylight the following morning, +although breakfast in the Weimer cabin had been +disposed of, before there was heard a tramp of feet +outside through the creaking snow, and Sandy +with a heavy pack on his back appeared at the +door.</p> + +<p>"All ready t’ strike the trail?" he asked, putting +his head inside the shack.</p> + +<p>There was an instant’s silence, during which +Sandy’s face changed as he looked quickly from +Ross to Weimer. The latter sat beside the table, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the +boards.</p> + +<p>Ross answered, "We can’t get ready to go so +quickly."</p> + +<p>For a moment Sandy’s face was the face which +had appeared at the window the night Weston was +indulging in mimicry, but for a moment only. +Then he rallied and assumed an air of concerned +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"What? Not ready? Why, man alive, yer +chance may be gone if ye wait another day. Uncle +Jake, you ought to know that, if Doc here don’t. +Why, we’re afraid we can’t come it even by ropin’ +together. Better hustle up and come."</p> + +<p>Both Weimer and Ross sat still, and after a little +further parley Waymart called angrily:</p> + +<p>"Hike along here, Sandy. Guess they know +what they want t’ do better ’n you do. Make +tracks here!"</p> + +<p>The three "made tracks," while Ross stood and +watched them out of sight.</p> + +<p>But after they had gone the boy, uneasy lest +they should return to do the tunnel some damage, +climbed the trail and entered the tool house. The +house was fastened between two trees which +grew at one side of the dump, the side furthest +from the trail across the mountain toward Miners’ +Camp.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span>Ross had entered aimlessly after assuring himself +that the door at the mouth of the tunnel had +not been opened. He stood silently looking out +of a crack down on the mass of snow which glistened +at the foot of the dump, when he was startled +by seeing Sandy on snow-shoes creep around the +dump and look up.</p> + +<p>Only a glance upward did Sandy give, and +them, turning, disappeared. Yet his face had appeared +anxious before that upward glance, while +afterward there was on it a satisfied smile.</p> + +<p>The hours that followed were anxious ones for +the two remaining in Meadow Creek Valley. +They began a hunt for the dynamite as soon as +the McKenzies had disappeared. Starting at the +McKenzie shack and discovery hole they widened +the search in a circle which finally included the +valley and the sides of the adjoining mountains, +with a single important omission; it did not occur +to either of them to examine their own premises +further than to assure themselves that neither tool +house nor tunnel had suffered any damage from +their "friends the enemy."</p> + +<p>At four o’clock came the first signs of dusk and, +discouraged, the partners moved slowly across the +valley. Half-way across, Ross chanced to glance +up at the stovepipe projecting from the roof of +their shack.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span>"A fire!" he shouted. "Look there, Uncle +Jake! Some one has built up the fire!"</p> + +<p>At that instant the door swung open and Leslie +Quinn stood in the doorway.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span><a id='link_13'></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SEARCH</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Over</span> fried bacon, sour dough bread and varied +"canned goods," Leslie told his story to an +interested and excited audience of two. The day +of Ross’s arrest he had shouldered a pack of stuff +selected from the trunk which still stood under +the new third bunk, waited until twilight so that +he could not be seen on the trail, and then, on +snow-shoes, had made his way over Crosby and up +Wood River caņon to Wilson’s cabin on the coal +claims.</p> + +<p>"You see," he said, a flush sweeping over his +face, "I supposed father was at Cody, and I +wouldn’t have faced him without that five hundred +dollars for all the gold that may be in these +mountains, and, besides, the way he had taken to +get even with me–well, I don’t need to say how +it cuts!" Here Leslie bent over his plate in shame. +"Although–I–well, of course, I deserve it, but I +didn’t think he’d go as far as that."</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Less!" Ross jumped up from the +table so suddenly that the box on which he had +been sitting was knocked over. "Here’s a letter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span> +to you in my care. It has been here so long I had +forgotten it."</p> + +<p>He pulled the emergency chest from under his +bunk and produced both of Mr. Quinn’s letters–the +one to himself and the one yet unopened.</p> + +<p>"There you are!" he exclaimed, tossing both +across the table. "I take it from what your +father says in mine that he thought of the arrest +not as a punishment, but as the way in which he +could be sure of getting his hands on you quickly +in Omaha."</p> + +<p>Eagerly Leslie read both letters, his troubled +face lighting and softening. "You’re right," he +said finally in a low tone. "I guess dad is–is more +all right than–than I used to think. I’ve been +no end of an idiot, frankly."</p> + +<p>He folded his letter and slipped it into his +slicker pocket while Weimer urged:</p> + +<p>"You was mit dot shack, und dey found you +not, hein?"</p> + +<p>"But I want to hear about Ross’s<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"No, no," interrupted Ross. "Finish out your +story first. Mine will look like thirty cents at the +end of yours. I’m not exactly proud of myself."</p> + +<p>"Vilson’s shack," prompted Weimer, pushing +his plate back and planting both elbows on the +table.</p> + +<p>Leslie continued his story in a new exuberance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +of spirits, occasionally fingering the letter in his +pocket. He had foreseen that Wilson’s shack +would be searched, and so, trusting to the drifting +snow to conceal his trail, he had, during the night, +packed provisions into one of the many deserted +shacks in the upper camp. He had selected one +overlooking the trail up Crosby. It had two +rooms, one behind the other, the back room having +an outside door and but one small window. +Leaving the first room undisturbed, he had stowed +his provisions in the back room, which also contained +a bunk.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you that it was hard sledding for +me until after the sheriff and the McKenzies came +and went that day," he continued ruefully. "I +had brought along my blankets, but I didn’t dare +light a fire, and I nearly froze and nearly starved +on cold canned stuff. But after the sheriff had +gone back–you see I could watch the camp from +the back room window–and the McKenzies had +passed the shack on the trail over here, I hung +blankets over the windows and had a fire nights +when the smoke wouldn’t be seen. I could cook +at night and early in the morning and so got along +fairly well. But I expected them all back again +for another search, so mornings I used to vacate +the outside room and leave it the same as it had +been."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span>"Why didn’t you come over sooner?" asked +Ross.</p> + +<p>"Don’t you see that I couldn’t," demanded +Leslie, "so long as the McKenzies were here? I +knew, though, that they had told Wilson that they +were not going to stay all winter. They told him +they would go to Cody as soon as they thought +the Crosby trail was getting dangerous. So I +watched that trail like a cat for them to go and +for my chance to get here."</p> + +<p>"Vilson he vent out," interrupted Weimer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Uncle Jake, I saw him go, but I lay low. +I was afraid of the consequences of being seen. I +had no idea that father had been put off. I was +sure he would come on himself, and I knew that +if father once struck my trail he’d unearth me. +He never gives up."</p> + +<p>"Then, this morning<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" prompted Ross.</p> + +<p>"Yes, this morning when I saw the McKenzies +coming down the trail bag and baggage, I humped +myself to get ready to get over here before their +tracks got filled up. I knew that if they could +get one way I could get the other way to-day, but +maybe not to-morrow. And I tell you what," +here Leslie arose and stretched out his arms, +"I’ve been living these weeks as close and cramped +a prisoner as I ever want to be. I could get out +nights a little because the camp came to be about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span> +deserted, but I was cooped up all day in the +shack."</p> + +<p>Far into the night the boys talked, while +Weimer alternately listened and dozed. When +Ross was well launched on the story of his arrest +he became at once embarrassed, wondering how +he was going to evade the matter of Lon Weston +and the note. He finally compromised by ending +the story of his capture in a partial account of his +conversation with Sandy in the barroom of "The +Irma," and Leslie, taking it for granted that his +father’s name and address came from Sandy, did +not ask embarrassing questions.</p> + +<p>"It’s as I suspected, then," he added slowly. +"The McKenzies were probably employed on the +ranches around home at some time. The cowboys +and sheep-herders are always coming into the +town, and probably they all knew me by sight, +while I didn’t know them one from another."</p> + +<p>Ross checked the question which arose to his +lips concerning the fourth man that Mr. Quinn +was after, and shortly after, the boys tumbled +into their bunks, Ross with a feeling of deep relief +that the third bunk would be occupied during +the winter.</p> + +<p>"I didn’t do so badly in Cody after all, as it has +all turned out," he thought comfortably as he fell +asleep.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span>He was only half awakened a few moments +later by an exclamation from the third bunk, +and heard Leslie say, "By the way, Ross, +who was<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" then the question, "Are you +asleep?"</p> + +<p>Ross, without replying, sank into a deeper +sleep, and Leslie said no more. Weimer was already +snoring.</p> + +<p>The following morning Ross tumbled out at +daybreak and built a roaring fire in the old +cracked heater. He glanced at the third bunk +and began whistling cheerfully. Perhaps they +could find the dynamite now that there was a +second with sound eyes to aid in the search and +a sound brain to help plan. If only the sticks +could be found the early spring would see the +work completed and the claims patented.</p> + +<p>The first thing Weimer did when he arose was +to go to the door and survey sky and mountains +with practiced eye, as he sniffed the bracing air. +The sky was overcast and lowering, while a sharp +wind drove the snow in eddies and drifts through +the valley.</p> + +<p>"Der vill pe a pig storm mit us," he prophesied; +"it ist on its vay. It vill get here in dree, four +days."</p> + +<p>"Hear that, Less?" shouted Ross at the new +bunk. "You turn out and we’ll be off. We’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span> +got to unearth that dynamite before any more +snow piles up here around us."</p> + +<p>Leslie left his bunk with a bound. "I’m good +for it. How’s breakfast? When I filled up last +night I thought I’d never need anything more +and here I am as hollow as a drum!"</p> + +<p>At the breakfast table, he suddenly bethought +himself of the question he had meant to ask the +previous night. "I say, Doc," he exclaimed, +"who was the third man with the McKenzies +yesterday? My cabin wasn’t near enough the +trail so that I could see."</p> + +<p>Ross hesitated and Weimer answered, "Dot vas +a cousin of the McKenzies, name of Lon Veston."</p> + +<p>There was a clatter and a fall as knife and fork +slipped out of Leslie’s hands. "Lon Weston!" he +ejaculated. "Lon Weston here? A cousin of the +McKenzies?"</p> + +<p>"Know him?" asked Ross.</p> + +<p>Leslie picked up his fork. "Know Lon? Well, +I should say so. He’s made trouble enough at +home<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" He bit his lips suddenly and stopped, +adding, "He was foreman on a ranch near North +Bend for a couple of years. He–he used to come +to our house a good deal."</p> + +<p>In a flash Ross recalled the photo that had +dropped out of Weston’s pocket at Sagehen Roost, +the pretty girl face, and instantly he knew why +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +Hank had said of Leslie when he rode away with +Wilson, "Seems as if I’d seen that there young +feller before."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are surely brother and sister," Ross +decided, his gaze fixed critically on Leslie’s downcast +face. "They look tremendously alike."</p> + +<p>"Veston, he vas de man dot Doc here mended," +Weimer volunteered. "Doc vas at Dry Creek mit +Veston."</p> + +<p>Leslie glanced quickly across the table. "Not +the man who was there when I passed through–the +day I was with Wilson–not that one, Ross?"</p> + +<p>"The same," nodded Ross. "He’s the Lon +Weston that I know."</p> + +<p>"Then he isn’t the Lon Weston that I know," +said Leslie with conviction and also relief. "That +man at Dry Creek had dark hair, while the ranch +foreman had hair as light almost as Sandy’s. Not +the same at all."</p> + +<p>And because of the note at "The Irma," Ross did +not contradict Leslie, did not tell him that Weston’s +hair was still light beneath its dye of chestnut +brown.</p> + +<p>"But some day," he thought, "I can ask him +about the fourth man that his father is after, and +so find out about Weston in a roundabout way."</p> + +<p>But the search for the dynamite soon proved so +strenuous that all thought of the crime committed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +on the North Fork faded from Ross’s mind. Day +after day the boys continued the search while +Weimer stayed in the cabin "rustling grub" and +giving suggestions. The theft of the sticks seemed +to have shocked the man into something of his +former mental keenness and industry. Not once +did Ross have to urge him to his household tasks. +When the boys tramped into the cabin at noon or +long after darkness had fallen, they found a hearty +appetizing meal prepared, the cook even going to +the length of objecting to their washing the +dishes.</p> + +<p>"If you dem sticks find," he would say, "Ich +vill stay mit dese dishes."</p> + +<p>"Uncle Jake," exclaimed Ross at noon the third +day of the hunt, "I’m discouraged. We have +poked into every spot for miles around where such +a lot of dynamite could be hidden–and then have +gone again."</p> + +<p>"I’m almost ready to believe," declared Leslie, +"that the boys had the sticks in their packs when +they left."</p> + +<p>Weimer shook his head. "No, never would +dose poys pe so foolish. Dose sticks are here, hein? +Somewhere in Meadow Creek Valley ve vill find +dem," but the old man’s voice broke on the declaration.</p> + +<p>"Of course it couldn’t be that the McKenzies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span> +carried them away," affirmed Ross. "If there had +been six men of them they couldn’t have carried +away all the dynamite that we had and Wilson +had and they had. In fact they couldn’t have carried +it all very far that night and in the teeth of +the awful storm that howled among these peaks. +I believe with Uncle Jake that the stuff is in this +valley."</p> + +<p>"You see, Uncle Jake," Ross began after a pause, +"we have gone on the supposition that they chose +a spot under the cover of rocks or in hollow trees, +some place where the dynamite would be kept dry. +Now, it may be that they have dug a hole in the +snow and ice, and buried it in the open, and the +snow has drifted over its grave."</p> + +<p>"Maype! maype!" Weimer ejaculated. "Put, +if dey haf, our goose, it ist cooked."</p> + +<p>He pushed the box on which he sat back against +the wall.</p> + +<p>Ross opened the cabin door, and looked out. +The weather had grown warmer. The blanket of +clouds which had hovered over the earth for days +had lifted and the snow lay dazzling in the strong +light. When he closed the door, Weimer had +donned his blue goggles.</p> + +<p>"Where’s your big storm, Uncle Jake?" asked +Ross.</p> + +<p>"Comin’, comin’," answered Uncle Jake +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span> +confidently. "It vill pe on us py mornin’. Dis light +it vill not last."</p> + +<p>Ross sat down and took his head in his hands, +his elbows on his knees.</p> + +<p>"Every fall of snow," he thought, "makes our +work so much more hopeless."</p> + +<p>Presently Weimer broke the silence. "Vell," +he began meditatively, "ve haf t’ings to eat fer +de vinter, anyvay," and Ross understood the circle +around which Uncle Jake’s thoughts had been +winding.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it’s Meadow Creek for us now, whether +the dynamite is found or not." Ross’s voice was +grim. "We went over on the trail as far as the +shoulder of Crosby to-day and whew! Uncle Jake, +it was a sight to see. The wind has packed the +snow into that trail until it hangs over the gorge +in great masses and curls."</p> + +<p>"Looks," added Leslie, "as though a thousand +tons or so might sweep down over the shoulder any +minute. The trail is closed all right as far as I’m +concerned. If I hadn’t come in the McKenzies’ footprints +that morning I wouldn’t have come at all."</p> + +<p>After dinner the boys fastened on their snow-shoes +outside the door and then looked questioningly +at each other.</p> + +<p>"Well–where to now?" asked Leslie despondently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span>"Sure enough–where?" returned Ross equally +despondent.</p> + +<p>Weimer had offered no suggestions, and the boys +were at the end of their resources.</p> + +<p>"We’ve hunted every place," said Ross absently, +adjusting a buckle on the strap of his snow-shoe, +"except our own premises here."</p> + +<p>No sooner had he heard his own voice speaking +these careless words than their possible significance +struck him. He sprang up with kindling eyes. +"Less, do you hear?" he shouted, his thoughts in +advance of his tongue. "There’s where it may be, +and maybe that was the reason why Sandy came +back and looked. Hurry! Hurry up!"</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" yelled Leslie as +Ross raced awkwardly around the cabin on his +snow-shoes.</p> + +<p>Weimer opened the door and peered out through +his colored goggles. "Has dot poy gone crazy?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>Leslie, without pausing to answer, hurried after +Ross. "Where to?" he yelled.</p> + +<p>"The tool house," returned Ross over his shoulder. +"It’s fastened between two trees, and hangs +out over the foot of the dump! See?"</p> + +<p>But, instead of taking the trail to the tunnel, +Ross struck across the mounds and hillocks and +drifts of snow that blocked the trail leading to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +Miners’ Camp. Through the tangle of pines and +hemlocks he led the way until he stopped at the +foot of the snow-heaped dump and looked up at +the tool house, one side of which rested on the +dump, while the opposite side was fastened to +sturdy hemlocks whose trunks arose from the +débris heaped about them from the tunnel. The +tool house was now a shapeless white form, while +the dump was buried beneath tons of snow.</p> + +<p>"It was here," Ross explained breathlessly, +"that Sandy stood. I was looking out at the +McKenzies from a crack up in the house. He +came back and looked up under the house and +then grinned and went back to the others. They +had started to leave, you know. Now why did he +want to look under that house?"</p> + +<p>"That’s it!" cried Leslie with excited conviction. +"They had cached the stuff under the +house and he wanted to make sure that their trail +could not be seen. Ross, the sticks are up under +there, high and dry."</p> + +<p>"You bet!" shouted Ross turning in his tracks. +"We’ll get shovels and dig for it. And, Less, if +we find the cache, we’ll let off one blast around +here outside of the tunnel that ’ill show them, if +they’re still over in Camp, that we ain’t dead yet."</p> + +<p>"Nor dumb and stupid, either!" cried Leslie +delightedly as he legged it rapidly over the snow.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span>In the door of the shack they found Weimer +still standing, shielding his eyes with one hand +and calling questions into space. The boys, appearing, +stopped to answer, not only satisfying the +old man but receiving a valuable suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Vat for you dig mit all dot vork? It vill dake +you poys a day und a half to git up unter dot +shack. Vy not go in und raise dot floor und find +dem sticks unter?"</p> + +<p>Leslie tossed up his cap. "Three cheers for +Uncle Jake!" he shouted. "That’s the very +thing to do. We’ll get around to that signal blast +sooner. Come on, Ross!"</p> + +<p>It was Leslie who led this time, axe in hand, +while Ross followed with hammer and shovel. +The trail to the tunnel had been unused for days +and was so deeply drifted that the boys had difficulty +in getting up to the dump even with the aid +of the shovel. Once on top they were obliged to +shovel their way slowly into the tool house.</p> + +<p>"Now," exclaimed Ross when they were fairly +in, "now for work with these floor boards!"</p> + +<p>Leslie, with many grunts, fell to clearing away +the snow from the floor, while Ross pulled the big +box in which the dynamite had been stored from +the center of the shack into one corner.</p> + +<p>"See here, Ross," cried Leslie excitedly as he +bent to the last shovelful of snow. "We don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span> +need axe nor hammer. The McKenzies have done +the work for us. The floor has been taken up and +just laid back again without being spiked down. +That box held the planks down pretty firmly, you +see."</p> + +<p>The floor consisted of halves of tree trunks, flat +above and rounded on the under side. Eagerly +Ross and Leslie raised the central plank and both +cried out simultaneously, for the dynamite filled +the space beneath up to the level of the floor.</p> + +<p>"And to think!" muttered Ross, "that I have +not thought of this before–didn’t think of it +when I saw Sandy peering up here."</p> + +<p>Leslie sat back on his heels and mopped his +face. "Pretty cute of ’em to think of a thing like +this," he conceded. "I should have taken the +sticks as far away as I could have carried them had +I been doing it, and considered that the farther I +went the better for my plans."</p> + +<p>"It’s Sandy," declared Ross. "Steele has told +me a dozen times that he’s the brains of the +clan."</p> + +<p>It did not take the trio long to restore the dynamite +to its box, for Ross, going down to the cabin, +led a delighted Weimer through the sunshine up +to the tool house, and Weimer willingly devoted +his great strength to the task.</p> + +<p>"And," insisted Leslie when their task was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +completed, "now for putting the shot that shall tell +Miners’ Camp that we’re livelier than ever over +here."</p> + +<p>As long as the trail was closed and the McKenzies +could not return, the boys reasoned, it would +be a lark to inform them in this way of the failure +of their project.</p> + +<p>"Even if they have gone on to Cody," suggested +Ross, "Bill Travers might get the news to ’em by +way of the stages."</p> + +<p>"But you see," ruefully from Leslie, "probably +there’s no one except themselves that knows of +our plight. They may not have told any one of +the theft of the sticks."</p> + +<p>"Well, we’ll set off a blast that will tell every +one that they’re found, anyway!" retorted Ross. +"And we’ll do it in the morning before the storm +comes on," for the brilliancy of the sunlight had +long been dimmed by heavy banks of clouds rolling +in from the northwest.</p> + +<p>Weimer entered into the project with the abandon +of a child, and it was he who suggested the location +of the "shot."</p> + +<p>"Nicht on Crosby," he said shaking his head. +"Dot might upset dot tunnel. Put it mit Soapweed +Ledge und see vat comes."</p> + +<p>The boys did not ask what Weimer meant. +Anything they did not understand they laid to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span> +his "Dutch lingo," but they immediately adopted +the suggestion concerning Soapweed Ledge, and in +the morning carried enough sticks across the valley +to plant a respectable "mine," as Ross called it, beneath +one of the huge rocks which jutted out from +the side of the mountain that bounded the valley +on the north. This mountain rose four thousand +feet above Meadow Creek, its head lost in the snow +clouds that now threatened to submerge the valley. +On the face of the mountain lay a great body of +snow, especially heavy above the timber-line, which +here, because of the great elevation of the valley +itself, was only a few hundred feet above the base +of any mountain.</p> + +<p>Weimer, lured out of the shack by the dimness +of the light and the enjoyment of the undertaking, +went with the boys and did his share in the "packing" +of the sticks unurged. It was he who, with +an accession of unusual keenness, planted the +charge in a shallow cave with a mass of rock +perilously overhanging the entrance.</p> + +<p>"Ve vant ein noise," he chuckled, "ein pig +racket. It shall pe heard in Miners’."</p> + +<p>A few moments later they had the noise, all +they had planned for, and then a noise that no +one had foreseen save Weimer, and he had not explained +his expectations.</p> + +<p>While the long fuse was burning, the three +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +spectators had retreated to the middle of the +valley and faced about expectantly. There came +a fearful detonation which awakened the echoes +on every hand and the vast rock with a dozen of +its neighbors was lifted like lumps of clay and +hurled into the valley amid a cloud of snow and +ice. Some of the fragments landed almost at the +feet of the spectators.</p> + +<p>The echoes had not died away before Weimer, +yelling, "Ve may not pe out of de vay far," +turned and made his clumsy but rapid way on +snow-shoes further from the scene of the explosion. +The boys were following him blindly +and excitedly when, in the clouds fairly over +their heads, came a sound that neither had ever +heard before, a wrenching, grinding, tearing sound +which caused Ross’s hair to stir under his cap.</p> + +<p>"Can th-that be thunder?" he stammered running.</p> + +<p>Weimer looked over his shoulder at the mountain. +"You haf neber an avalanche seen, hein!" +he cried, and stopping, faced the other way again.</p> + +<p>Down into view below the low hanging clouds +it swept its terrible way, that avalanche which the +trembling of the mountain had caused, the work +of the dynamite. With a swift overwhelming +rush it crumbled the rocks and, uprooting great +trees, bore them easily on its bosom. Into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span> +valley it debouched, carrying with it the wreckage +from the mountainside.</p> + +<p>Ross and Leslie looked at each other with white +faces when the roar and grind and rush finally +ceased.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," suggested Ross huskily, "we had +set that blast off on old Crosby."</p> + +<p>Both boys looked at the mountain overhanging +the tunnel above their shack, and Ross shivered.</p> + +<p>"It would have been good-bye to the tunnel and +the shack and us too, I guess," muttered Leslie.</p> + +<p>"I told you," declared Weimer, "vat vould +happen, hein? I told you last nicht. Now ein +avalanche you haf seen."</p> + +<p>Neither boy contradicted his first statement. +With the last they agreed rather breathlessly, +for an avalanche they surely had seen!</p> + +<p>"I hope," said Ross carelessly as they entered +their shack, "that the McKenzies are still in +Miners’ and that they heard that blast!"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span><a id='link_14'></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>A PERILOUS JOURNEY</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> following morning the three inhabitants of +Meadow Creek Valley began work again in the +tunnel. The air was filled with a smother of +snow which fell unaccompanied by wind. When, +the following day, the sky cleared, over the path +of the avalanche and over the ruins of Soapweed +Ledge lay a concealing blanket of snow three feet +deep.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" shivered Ross as he led the goggled +Weimer over the snow to the tunnel that morning. +"Wish we had a thermometer up here. This is +some cold. Must be minus zero by a long way."</p> + +<p>"Mine nose ist my thermometer," complained +Weimer, rubbing that whitening member. "Aber +dis weather it holds nicht. Anoder snow falls in +dree, four days."</p> + +<p>The third day proved the truth of this prophecy. +The atmosphere became many degrees warmer and +the sky lowering.</p> + +<p>"More snow," sighed Leslie, looking over the +silent, white sheeted valley with homesick eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span>"Und den more," added Weimer complacently. +"More und more till June."</p> + +<p>That noon it chanced that Weimer, being +afflicted with a headache, left the tunnel early. +A little later, Ross, pushing the little car out to +the dump, called back to Leslie at work with the +drill:</p> + +<p>"Guess I’ll go down and rustle the grub for +Uncle Jake. That headache of his is genuine."</p> + +<p>"All right," assented Leslie, "I’ll be down in +half an hour or so. I want to put this shot before +I go."</p> + +<p>Ross found Weimer in a state of great excitement, +the headache forgotten. He stood at the +door of the shack, peering up toward the tunnel, +both hands shielding his blinking eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who vas dot man?" he demanded in a high, +eager voice.</p> + +<p>"What man, Uncle Jake?" Ross stopped short, +staring at Weimer as though he were bereft of his +senses.</p> + +<p>"I see him!" declared Weimer. "He vas shust +startin’ up dot trail py de tunnel. I see his pack. +He vore ein pag on it. He vore ein cap mit +goggles. I see him."</p> + +<p>Ross looked up the mountainside incredulously. +"Why, Uncle Jake, I just left the tunnel and there +was no one there but Leslie. I guess," jocosely, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span> +"your headache has made you ’see things at +night,’ hasn’t it? No one can get into the valley +now, you know."</p> + +<p>Excitedly protesting and expostulating, half in +English and half in German, Uncle Jake retreated +inside the door, and taking up his position beside +one of the little windows watched the trail to +the tunnel while Ross, smiling at his partner’s +hallucination, built up the fire, cheerfully banging +the covers of the stove as he filled the fire-box +with dry pine sticks. In the midst of this racket +there entered the sound of crunching footsteps on +the side opposite the shack from that occupied by +Weimer.</p> + +<p>"Hein!" yelled the latter springing up. "Was +sagen sie? It ist somepody!"</p> + +<p>A rap thundered on the door, and it was thrust +open at the same time unceremoniously, while a +low, gruff voice inquired abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Is there a young doctor here?"</p> + +<p>A man a little above medium height stood on +the threshold. He wore buckskin trousers and a +buckskin coat over a heavy sweater, giving him a +bulky appearance. He had on snow-shoes, and +strapped over his shoulder, a large leather game +pouch sagged. Behind smoked goggles his eyes +were blinking, like Weimer’s, almost closed. His +head and ears were covered with a shaggy fur cap, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span> +which met his turned-up coat collar. His face +was smooth above a fringe of black stubby whiskers, +which ran from ear to ear under the chin. +His voice, though gruff, was not unpleasant as he +explained.</p> + +<p>"Of course ’twas a month and more ago since +they told me over t’ Red Lodge that<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" His +eyes fell on Ross. "You’re him they call Doc +Tenderfoot, ain’t ye?"</p> + +<p>"Why–yes," answered Ross. There was a +pause between the two words caused by the +speaker’s amazement at seeing a man drop in +from–where?</p> + +<p>"Come in," invited Weimer, "und set down."</p> + +<p>"Don’t care if I do," assented the stranger.</p> + +<p>He unbuckled his snow-shoes, and, leaving them +outside, entered the shack. Turning down his +coat collar, he loosened his cap, pushing it back +on his head, thereby revealing the ends of short +black hair.</p> + +<p>"Haf you peen up to dat tunnel, hein?" demanded +Weimer with a triumphant glance at +Ross.</p> + +<p>The stranger nodded, "Yep. Didn’t see no +signs of livin’ here and I did see some signs up t’ +the mouth of the tunnel, but I didn’t see no good +way of gittin’ up t’ it. When I got there I was +over t’ other side of the dump and when I got up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span> +on top of it I heard voices down here, so down +here I put agin!"</p> + +<p>"Did you come up from Miners’ Camp?" asked +Ross eagerly.</p> + +<p>The stranger shook his head. "No, I live +toward the Divide on<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" The stranger interrupted +himself to ask, "Know the country over +there, do you?"</p> + +<p>Weimer shook his head. "Only py hearsay."</p> + +<p>"Well, we located on Sagewood Run, my pal +and me, and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Didn’t know dere vas a soul livin’ in dem +parts," exclaimed Weimer.</p> + +<p>"Me and my pal," returned the stranger. "We +hain’t got no neighbor near enough to throw +kisses to, that’s sartain. You’re the nighest."</p> + +<p>"Prospector?" asked Weimer.</p> + +<p>"Coal," returned the stranger. "We’re tryin’ +to hold down half a dozen claims."</p> + +<p>He turned from Weimer, and changed the subject +in his queer, abrupt way.</p> + +<p>"Pard’s sick–hurt. Guess he’ll pass up his +checks afore long if he don’t git help."</p> + +<p>He squinted through his goggles at Ross. "Over +t’ Red Lodge they said you fixed up a feller down +in Dry Creek good’s new. So I come after ye fer +a couple of days."</p> + +<p>Instantly Weimer became alarmed. "Ross, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span> +can’t go und leave us, hein! When the sun pe +shinin’, I can’t get ’round. Ross, he must pe +here to work. He can’t go mit you."</p> + +<p>Ross drew a long, perplexed breath, and said +nothing. The stranger looked attentively at +Weimer for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Got a touch of the sun, too, have ye?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>Weimer removed his goggles, and pressed his +hands over his eyes. "Yah, dot I has, a touch +und more dan a touch. Ross here, he ain’t leavin’ +us to go mit you."</p> + +<p>Still Ross stood silent. The stranger made no +response to Weimer’s protestations, but, bending +forward, regarded him closely.</p> + +<p>"What?" he burst out. "Are you Dutch +Weimer?"</p> + +<p>"Dot ist vat dey call me," assented Weimer, +turning his bloodshot eyes on the stranger.</p> + +<p>The latter persisted in an incredulous voice, +"The Dutch Weimer who used to run a miners’ +supply store down in Butte?"</p> + +<p>"Dot same," assented Weimer. "Und who +might you pe?"</p> + +<p>The stranger grinned, a one-sided grin which +sent his right cheek up under the smoked goggles. +"Well, Uncle Jake, do you remember a little black-headed +rascal that uster hang his chin on the edge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span> +of yer counter about once a day and get a nickel’s +worth of candy?"</p> + +<p>Weimer wrinkled his brow in perplexity. "Dere +vas so many plack-heads," he muttered, scratching +his head.</p> + +<p>The stranger grinned delightedly, and again his +right cheek was pushed up under the goggles. +"Of course there was. I wa’n’t the only calf running +around loose, I know. Well, do you remember +Marvin Miller?"</p> + +<p>"Hein!" cried Weimer. He held out his hand +impulsively. "Und are you Marvin Miller’s poy?"</p> + +<p>"The same," declared the stranger, grasping +the hand. "And didn’t you have a younger pard +by the name of Grant?"</p> + +<p>"Yah!" Weimer fairly shouted. "Dot I did, +and he’s my pard yet."</p> + +<p>"Uster git his eyes about shut, and tighten his +lips, when things didn’t go to suit ’im," grinned +Marvin Miller’s son.</p> + +<p>"That’s my father all right!" cried Ross.</p> + +<p>The stranger drew back and whistled. "Your +dad!" he exclaimed. "Sho, now; that’s not so?"</p> + +<p>"It ist so," Weimer broke in. "His fader sends +him to help me mit der vork in dese claims, und +den dis consarned gang of McKenzies go and pack +off der sticks<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" and Weimer was launched on an +account of their troubles, feeling perfectly at home +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span> +with the man who as a boy had hung over his +counter in the old days when he was merchant +and not prospector.</p> + +<p>Ross, too, felt his heart warm toward the man +who had known his father; and for an instant the +present faded, and he was back East again among +the old familiar surroundings. He was being +looked over by the father who "got his eyes about +shut" when the son did not please him; he was +being affectionately scolded by Aunt Anne and +advised by Dr. Grant–but the thought of the +doctor brought Ross up sharply against the purpose +of the stranger’s visit.</p> + +<p>A sick partner, Miller had said: but he, Ross, +also had a sick partner, although the sickness was +more of the mind than the body; and that partner +objected to his going. What should he do? His +training with his uncle would leave him no choice +if he had only himself to consult in the matter. +He was better than no doctor at all, and he was +called on for help; therefore he must obey the +call. But there was Weimer, who had learned to +depend on him, and who, he feared, might relapse +during his absence, however brief, into his former +irresponsible state, for Leslie was, of course, a +stranger to the methods which Ross had been +obliged to employ to keep Weimer busy. Nor +was Leslie, who had acted under Wilson’s direction, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +accustomed to going ahead with the work as Ross +had been obliged to do. But if the trip would +occupy only a couple of days–well, he could not +refuse to go.</p> + +<p>Here he became conscious that Miller was +addressing him, and that Uncle Jake was leaning +eagerly toward him.</p> + +<p>"If Doc here is willin’," Miller was saying, "we +might go into cahoots this way: If my pard needs +’im longer than a day ’r two, I’ll come along back +and buckle down t’ work here ’n’ help you out +while he’s there a-nussin’<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Yah, yah!" consented Weimer eagerly. "Den +he may mit you go. You could do more vork dan +Doc. You come pack und mit us vork."</p> + +<p>Ross, relieved, turned to the peg where hung his +cap. "I’ll go up to the tunnel and get Leslie, +Uncle Jake, and you take hold of the dinner."</p> + +<p>"Leslie," repeated Miller carelessly. "Who’s +he?"</p> + +<p>Ross, leaving Weimer to relate Leslie’s history, +hurried up to the tunnel. He wanted to see Leslie +alone and give him numerous suggestions and +directions beyond the reach of Weimer’s ears.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Less," he ended as the two finally +started toward the shack together, "even if I do +have to stay, and Miller comes back, he won’t know +how to manage Uncle Jake in case he has a relapse +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span> +into the state that I found him in. And Miller +looks like a strong willing fellow to work, so guess +we won’t lose anything by my going. Anyway +I’ve got to go, for he says his partner is in a bad +way." Miller’s partner, it seemed, had been caught +under a log they were "snaking" down to the +cabin. His arm was crushed and in bad shape.</p> + +<p>"Some way, Ross," Leslie burst out uneasily, "I +mightily hate to have you go. I’ll be deadly lonesome +up here without you even for a couple of +days."</p> + +<p>"But if I’m not back then this Miller will be," +returned Ross hopefully, "and he shows up rather +agreeably."</p> + +<p>After a hasty dinner, Ross selected from his chest +all that he considered would be required. Some +of the articles Miller put into his game pouch, +Ross making up a bundle himself to bind on his +own back and so divide the load. At one o’clock +they started, with Weimer and Leslie standing in +the doorway, the former urging them on with many +expressions of hope for a speedy return that they +might get ahead of "dose consarned gang."</p> + +<p>Ross walked after Miller easily. Those past few +days on the mountainsides had accustomed him to +the use of snow-shoes. Almost in silence they +crossed the valley and began the ascent of what +remained of Soapweed Ledge.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span>During the last hour the light had faded, and +snow began to fill the air. From the base of the +ledge the cabin on the other valley was barely visible, +and Ross could scarcely make out the figures +standing in front of the door.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Miller turned with an exclamation. +"There! I forgot something that I wanted t’ tell +Uncle Jake. Wait here a minute, will ye? It’ll +not take me long t’ go back."</p> + +<p>He walked rapidly over the snow across the valley, +and disappeared into the cabin. Five minutes +passed. He reappeared, and made his way more +slowly back again.</p> + +<p>"All right," he shouted from the foot of the +ledge. "Turn to the right, and go along above +them rocks. That’s the trail."</p> + +<p>At the top of the mountain Miller again took +the lead. He had shifted the pouch to the front, +and eased its weight with one hand. Ross noticed +that it seemed much heavier than when he entered +the cabin, but thought nothing further of the +matter.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later he was on totally unfamiliar +ground among a labyrinth of "sugar loaf" peaks +which they skirted and climbed, Miller pushing on +steadily and without words.</p> + +<p>"Hold yer wind," he directed Ross; "ye’ll have +need of it before we reach camp."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span>The sky and earth were nearly blotted out now +by the falling snow. Ross could see scarcely a +dozen paces ahead. He could not tell whether +they were headed east or west, north or south. +They twisted and turned and turned again. The +boy became leg-weary; but Miller pressed on, seemingly +unexhausted, the heavy game pouch dragging +at his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"We–we can’t reach there to-night, can we?" +Ross gasped at last.</p> + +<p>Miller turned his head but did not pause. +"Yep," he answered, "about dark."</p> + +<p>Again in silence they went on.</p> + +<p>Finally, at five o’clock, they began to climb the +gentle slope of a mountain which seemed to have +no summit. Here for the first time his guide +stopped to allow Ross to rest. Then he advanced +slowly, step by step, prodding the snow deeply at +the left of the blind trail he was following.</p> + +<p>"What’s the matter?" Ross called the first time +he saw Miller taking measure of the snow in this +way.</p> + +<p>"Gorge somewhere here," Miller had replied. +"Wind’s filled it up even from bank t’ bank. If +we sh’ step off–why, there’s a hundred feet or so +below made up of spruces and snow. I don’t want +t’ go down int’ no such landscape."</p> + +<p>Ross involuntarily hugged the upper side of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span> +mountain. He longed for their journey’s end. As +they neared the top, the wind became active, cutting +their faces and forcing Ross to turn his back +and gasp for breath.</p> + +<p>Then came the descent, the storm thickening +about them. Occasionally Miller threw a direction +or a warning over his shoulder, which always +caused Ross’s heart to leap fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Don’t go outside my tracks here. There’s a +flat rock on the down side that ends in a ledge. +Not a pretty slide t’ take," he shouted once.</p> + +<p>Again it was: "Be careful ahead here under +that rock. Brace toward the inside of the trail. +We may get a few pounds of snow on our heads."</p> + +<p>For half an hour longer they tramped on steadily. +Ross ached in every muscle. His feet were +beginning to cramp. They almost refused to raise +the snow-shoes and push them forward. Miller +slackened his speed when he saw that Ross was +nearly played out.</p> + +<p>"A few minutes more, and we’re there," he explained. +"Keep up your courage."</p> + +<p>And at that moment Ross thought he had need +of courage. They had been descending the mountain +gradually above timber-line, zigzagging back +and forth across the face in such a way as would +enable them to use their snow-shoes to the best advantage. +Now the storm lightened just enough to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span> +enable Ross to see they were traveling along the +edge of a cliff with an overhanging fringe of trees, +and the cliff appeared to the boy to be the jumping +off place into space. Right and left as far as +the falling snow permitted him to see the cliff extended. +Above was the white bulk of the mountain; +below was nothing but storm.</p> + +<p>Along this cliff Miller had walked slowly, pausing +occasionally to look up into the trees. Finally +he gave a grunt of satisfaction, and, throwing his +staff and the heavy pouch on the rock, took from +the snow-laden branches of a pine a coil of slender +new rope.</p> + +<p>"Nerves good?" he asked jokingly.</p> + +<p>"For what?" was Ross’s startled response.</p> + +<p>Miller explained. Ross saw that for the first +time the colored goggles were no longer astride the +other’s nose. His cap was drawn down over his +eyes, however, and his coat collar was turned up so +that not much of his face was visible save his nose.</p> + +<p>"If it was summer," began Miller, busying himself +with the rope, "we could get around this here +little rock. But now there’s nothin’ t’ do but go +over it, because the mountain on each side shelves +down so steep now we couldn’t git down on snow-shoes +or off ’em to save our necks. We’d bring +down a load of snow on our heads if we should +try."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span>As he talked, he knotted the rope securely +around a tree standing near the edge of the rock. +"Right here the cliff slopes so I can just slide you +down," Miller’s gruff voice ran on in jerks, "and +then I can slide after ye. But I take it you +ain’t used to mountains and this sort of game, +and so I guess ye’d better hitch the end round yer +waist."</p> + +<p>He tossed the end of the rope to Ross. "Take off +yer shoes, and pack ’em in your hand," he directed +when with numb, trembling fingers the boy had +knotted the rope. "Forty feet down," Miller continued, +"you’ll come to a ledge. Stop there, and +free the line."</p> + +<p>A moment more, snow-shoes in hand, Ross was +on his back sliding down an almost perpendicular +wall, his hair doing its best to raise his cap from +his head. Slowly he was let down, down, so far +as he could see, into space. Then suddenly, just +as he had closed his eyes in dizzy terror, his feet +struck snow into which he sank to his knees, and +the rope above slackened.</p> + +<p>The ledge had stopped him, but it seemed to +Ross but an insecure footing hung between heaven +and earth. It was a mere path across the face of +the cliff not more than three feet wide at the +widest part.</p> + +<p>Ross untied the end; and then, as he felt it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span> +jerked from behind him, he covered his eyes with +his hand and stood shivering, crowding back +against the cliff.</p> + +<p>It was the work of a moment only for Miller to +slide down the rope and stand beside him.</p> + +<p>"Hug the cliff," directed Ross’s conductor +shortly, "and follow me. No, don’t put on your +shoes. I’ll break the trail fer ye."</p> + +<p>Slowly they crawled across the face of the cliff, +the ledge leading downward. At the base they +were in a winding caņon scarcely twenty yards +wide. Here they buckled on their snow-shoes +again.</p> + +<p>"If," said Miller, bending over the straps, "we +see it’s best fer you t’ stay a few days with my pard +and let me go back and help Uncle Jake, I wouldn’t +do much investigatin’ of the premises around here +if I was you."</p> + +<p>Ross shuddered, and looked up at the face of the +cliff, obscured now not only by the storm, but by +the coming darkness.</p> + +<p>"No investigating for me!" he exclaimed forcefully.</p> + +<p>Then they began the tramp up the caņon, the +shadow from the wooded mountains deepening +every moment. Finally, Miller made a sharp +turn around a group of seven spruces standing at +the foot of a peak, and cautiously approached a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span> +log shack that stood half buried in the snow, and +had as its corner posts four tall trees. The snow +was shoveled away from the door and window, +and a light smoke arose from the joint of stovepipe +projecting from the roof.</p> + +<p>At the door Miller stopped and listened. +"Guess he’s asleep," he whispered. "Take off yer +shoes out here."</p> + +<p>Ross stooped, and unbuckled his snow-shoes.</p> + +<p>"Guess the fire must be low," whispered Miller. +"Wisht you’d go round the corner there, and +load up with wood while I go in and see what he’s +up to. But don’t come in till I tell ye to. I’ll +sort of prepare him to see ye."</p> + +<p>Ross did as he was bidden. He found the path +to the pile of pine chunks partly broken; but, with +his numb fingers incased in huge mittens, it was +not easy work to dig out the wood frozen under +its covering of snow. But finally, his arms full, +he staggered around the corner of the shack, and +stood again in front of the door. So busy had he +been at the wood-pile that he had not thought of +listening for sounds within the shack.</p> + +<p>Now, as he stood in the dusk before the door, he +was surprised at the stillness within, and also by +the fact that the window beyond the door showed +no light. With a growing but vague uneasiness +he waited, chilled to the bone by the wind, which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span> +had begun to suck through the caņon and whistle +along the sides of the mountains.</p> + +<p>The few moments during which he waited +seemed to him like years. Then he raised the +wooden latch softly, and opened the door. Darkness +and silence greeted him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Miller," he whispered.</p> + +<p>No reply.</p> + +<p>"Miller!" His voice rose sharply.</p> + +<p>The wind soughed through the branches over +his head; and a sharp flurry of snow, forerunner of +the blizzard, assailed him, while from the open +door came a whiff of warmth.</p> + +<p>Ross dropped the wood outside, and, stepping +within the shack, closed the door, and groped his +way toward the stove, from the front of which +came a faint glow.</p> + +<p>Pulling off his mittens, he held his hands over +the heat, at the same time holding his breath that +he might hear the breathing of the sick man. +But all he heard was the beating of the blood in +his own ears.</p> + +<p>Working some life into his fingers, he tore open +the front of his fur-lined coat, and, pulling a match +out of his pocket, lighted it, and held it above his +head. In the further corner of the cabin was a +bunk, from beneath the blankets of which the +straw protruded. Trembling so that he could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span> +scarcely walk, Ross started across the floor. Half-way +to the bunk his match burned out. He +retreated to the stove, and lit another. This time +he succeeded in reaching the bunk. Several +blankets were spread over a foundation of straw. +Otherwise the bunk was empty.</p> + +<p>A panic seized Ross. "Miller!" he shouted, +"Miller!"</p> + +<p>The wind howled through the caņon. The trees +above the shack swayed and grated their interlocked +branches together.</p> + +<p>Striking a third match, Ross observed a candle +stuck into a hole in a piece of wood which lay on +the table. He lighted it, and sank into a chair +beside the table.</p> + +<p>What had happened? Where was Miller? +Where was the sick partner?</p> + +<p>Ross took off his cap, and laid it on the table. +In bewilderment he ran his fingers through his +hair.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his eyes fell on something in the +shadow beside the door. He went to it. It was +the heavily loaded game pouch. Evidently Miller +had opened the door, dropped that inside, and vanished +into the night.</p> + +<p>Ross was reaching for the pouch when another +thought struck him so forcibly that he jerked +himself to a standing posture with a loud +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span> +exclamation. Hastily opening the door, he stopped and, +throwing the wood about, peered through the darkness, +searching the open space where he had parted from Miller.</p> + +<p>His snow-shoes were gone.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span><a id='link_15'></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><span class='h2fs'>A NEW CAMP</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> disappearance of the snow-shoes, instead of +proving to Ross that he had been hoaxed, at first, +only deepened his bewilderment. Finally, the +idea found lodgment in his brain that Miller’s +partner had wandered off in the storm delirious, +and Miller, having found him gone, had followed, +forgetting Ross. The boy was too confused to +weigh the probabilities of such forgetfulness, especially +in view of the missing snow-shoes. Therefore, +the moment the idea occurred to him he acted +on it, hurrying out into the storm with the intention +of going to Miller’s assistance.</p> + +<p>But, without snow-shoes, he found himself helpless. +He had not gone a dozen yards from the +door before he sank half-way to his waist in the +snow. Scrambling hastily back again, he ran +around the cabin where the snow was not so deep, +and struggled up the mountainside.</p> + +<p>"Miller!" he shouted desperately. "Miller, +where are you?"</p> + +<p>Here and there among the trees he plunged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span> +frantically until the fear that he could not find his +way to the shack drove him back.</p> + +<p>He filled the stove with wood, snuffed the candle +mechanically, and looked about him. Then for the +first time he realized that there was but one bunk.</p> + +<p>"If two men lived here, there would be two +bunks," he said slowly; and then came the conviction +that Miller had decoyed him here and deserted +him, taking the snow-shoes along. But +Ross’s brain was too numb to pursue the thought. +Exhausted by his long tramp and by his fruitless +battle with the snow, he filled the stove with +chunks, closed the draughts, and, without stopping +to blow out the candle, rolled into the bunk, and +was asleep before he had pulled all the blankets +over him.</p> + +<p>When he awoke, the shack was filled with a +light, which, although exceedingly dim, was unmistakably +daylight. Outside, the snow was piled +to the top of the window. The candle was burned +out and the fire low. Ross crawled out stiffly, +every muscle aching and sore. Filling the stove, +he looked at his watch. Twelve o’clock! He had +slept away the morning.</p> + +<p>Outside the blizzard raged in unabated fury, but +so sheltered was the shack by scrub hemlocks and +banks of snow roof-high, that but little wind found +its way through the mud-chinked log walls.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span>Standing over the fire, Ross looked at the dark +outlines of the one bunk, and considered his situation. +His heart sank when he thought of the +miles which Miller and he had put between themselves +and Meadow Creek Valley.</p> + +<p>And who was Miller?</p> + +<p>Ross’s suspicions, of course, had fastened to the +McKenzies. But why had they considered it necessary +to have him marooned so far from Meadow +Creek? How did they know that the dynamite +had been found? When they left Meadow +Creek<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span></p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Ross aloud at this point. He +brought the stove poker down vigorously on top +of the stove. "That blast under Soapweed Ledge! +I wanted ’em to hear it–guess they didn’t fail!" +Ruefully he turned from the stove. He was certainly +paying for his little triumph.</p> + +<p>But who was Miller?</p> + +<p>The lack of wood in the cabin soon turned his +attention from the answer to the necessity for immediate +action. He found a large wooden snow-shovel +behind the stove; and, opening the door +cautiously in order to prevent a mass of snow from +following it, he cleared away a space in front of the +door and the two windows, and shoveled his way +to the wood-pile.</p> + +<p>It was not until he was struggling around the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span> +corner of the shack with an armful of wood that +he realized that his weakness and tremors were due +not only to anxiety, but to hunger; and with that +realization came a fear which nearly induced +another panic. Was there food in the cabin? So +great had been his absorption that he had not noticed +the contents of the shack beyond those things +which he had required for immediate use.</p> + +<p>Throwing the armful of wood down beside the +stove, he proceeded to make a hurried search, the +results of which quieted his fears. The cabin was +as well stocked with provisions as Weimer’s. A +portion of these supplies, the canned milk, vegetables, +and fruits, he found in boxes beneath the +bunk. Sacks of flour and meal were suspended +from the roof logs to protect them from the +"pack" rats. Having investigated these provisions, +Ross opened a second door at the back of the +shack, supposing it led out-of-doors. But he was +agreeably surprised to find it led to a little lean-to +of logs, where were suspended a large ham, strips +of bacon, jerked meat, and quantities of fresh venison +all frozen. The door protected these from the +heat inside the shack, while the logs, unchinked, +gave protection from timber wolves and coyotes, +but not from the snow, which had sifted in over +everything.</p> + +<p>Ross at once set about getting breakfast. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span> +found every necessary cooking utensil at hand. +The cabin was–as such cabins go–completely +furnished and, it appeared, must have been inhabited +not long ago by a stout man; for in a box +at the head of the bunk he found some clothing +much too large for him or for the man who had +brought him there.</p> + +<p>"But," he thought, as he sat down to venison +steak and flapjacks, "whoever owns the cabin, +Miller must have gone from here to Meadow +Creek, because there was a fire here last night +when I came in; and it was a fire fixed to keep +some hours, too."</p> + +<p>As he finished eating, his eyes fell on the game +pouch still bulging beside the door. He had not +looked inside. With a piece of steak balanced on +his fork he crossed the floor. Then:</p> + +<p>"Books!" he cried aloud. "<i>My</i> books!"</p> + +<p>The fork fell from his hand. He dropped to +his knees and emptied the pouch. Besides the +appliances which he had given to Miller to carry +there were all his books, the medical text-books +which he had left in the emergency chest in +Weimer’s shack. He could scarcely believe his +eyes. He sat back on his heels, and stared.</p> + +<p>"Weston!" he finally shouted. "Miller is +Weston!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly rising, his eyes narrowed and his lips +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span> +compressed, he kicked the game pouch across the +floor in a gust of anger caused by an illumination +of certain circumstances which explained the +events of the previous day.</p> + +<p>"I’m slow," he muttered between clinched +teeth. "Any one can get the better of me."</p> + +<p>He recalled Weston’s imitation of different +people the night he and Waymart had come to +Weimer’s together and Sandy’s displeasure at the +exhibition. Sitting down in an armchair beside +the table–the only chair in the shack–he followed +his chain of evidence link by link. The conversation +which he had overheard between Waymart +and Sandy the night of the latter’s return from +Cody was fully explained–the some one whose +assistance they might need in Meadow Creek +Valley, but who would not come unless some one +else had left.</p> + +<p>"Weston would not come with Leslie there for +fear he’d be recognized," thought Ross. "Therefore, +Sandy took steps to remove Leslie and–yes–in +spite of the mess I made of it, I blocked the +game!"</p> + +<p>Then, despite his anxiety, Ross grinned. Of +course the McKenzies had not expected Leslie to +return any more than they had expected the +dynamite to be found. But after hearing his +signal of discovery they had sent Weston, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span> +skilful impersonator, to maroon him here–where? +Ross dropped forward his head on the +table and groaned.</p> + +<p>"They brought me here to get rid of me entirely," +he finished; "and I came voluntarily!"</p> + +<p>Presently he picked up the pouch, intending to +hang it on a nail in the logs beside the door. It +was not quite empty; and, lifting the flap he +looked in. At the bottom lay a few wads of newspaper. +Ross concluded that the pouch had been +stuffed with these when Weston came to Weimer’s. +Then, when he went back after the books, he had +thrown out the paper, the presence of which had +prevented his companion from noticing much +difference in the pouch after the books were put +into it. Ross picked up one of the pieces, and +glanced at it listlessly. It was a page of the Cody +"Gazette." He dropped it back into the pouch.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what he told Uncle Jake and Leslie +when he got the books," thought Ross, hanging +up the bag.</p> + +<p>Leslie was the only comfort the situation held +for him, and this merely came from the knowledge +that Weimer was not alone. For, of course, Weston +having seen the boy in Meadow Creek would return +and block the work somehow, probably steal the +dynamite again, and convey it farther than the +tool house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span>Here Ross started up in a sort of frenzy, and, +putting on his top-coat and cap, rushed out-of-doors. +He would find a way out. There must be a way, +for Miller had gone back–Ross felt sure he had +returned–and if Miller had he could! He would +save the claims yet. The first plunge into the +snow, waist-deep now, with the whip-lash of the +blizzard in his face, brought him to his senses.</p> + +<p>"This is folly," he thought as he dropped once +more into the chair beside the table, "when I have +no idea where I am."</p> + +<p>But, even if he did know, his snow-shoes were +gone; and without them he could not safely +venture–nor with them, either, he decided, recalling +with a sick shudder the snow-filled ravines +against which Miller had warned him–<i>Miller</i>, +indeed!</p> + +<p>His bitterness came back with a rush. After all +he had done for Weston this was the final reward. +Weston had shaved his beard, recolored his hair +and the fringe of whiskers left beneath his chin, +covered his deep brown eyes with goggles, and +brought his benefactor of Dry Creek here to spend +months in this deadly loneliness! That was the +thanks he gave "Doc Tenderfoot" for saving his +life.</p> + +<p>That night the storm ceased and a warm wind +arose. The next morning Ross again shoveled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span> +out the doorway, window, and wood-pile. The sky +was clear, but the sun did not swing over the +towering peak which rose almost perpendicular, +opposite the cabin, until ten o’clock. But, when +it did show its face, it looked down on a bewildering +mass of snow. Ross gazed longingly down +the caņon, which wound like a serpent between +the overhanging mountains. Down there not +half a mile away a ledge ran diagonally across +the face of a cliff; and Ross felt impelled to go +to the foot of that cliff, and find out whether or +not the rope still dangled from its summit. But +well he knew that even so short a journey would +be impossible without the aid of snow-shoes. +However, if the warm wind continued and the +sky remained unclouded, perhaps in a day or +two there would be a crust on the snow of sufficient +strength to bear his weight. Then he would +investigate.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile he tried to force himself calmly to +the business of living and planning. He was +there. So far as he could see there was no escape. +He would make the best and the most of the +months of his banishment. When he arrived at +this conclusion, he found himself relenting a +trifle toward Weston on account of the books. It +had been no light load to pack across the mountains +on a tramp which had lasted many hours.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span>"Perhaps Weston has a piece of heart, after all," +Ross mused the following morning, "but so thoroughly +is he under Sandy’s control that he dare +not show it."</p> + +<p>Before him on the table lay Piersol’s "Histology," +although he was totally unable to focus +his scattered thoughts on the contents. He was +anxiously watching the weather. The warm +wind had continued, but the sky was lowering. +Another storm was brewing. Finally Ross left +Piersol and going to the door, looked out anxiously +over the caņon.</p> + +<p>"The snow is settling finely," he decided, "and +if the cold comes before the storm the crust will +hold me up."</p> + +<p>He went back to the armchair and began drumming +nervously on the arms. He wondered how +it had chanced to be packed so far over the +narrow trails. A chair, a "store chair," that is, +was an uncommon sight among the mountains. +From which point had it been brought, Cody or +Red Lodge? The latter, he knew, was more than +one hundred miles from the Shoshones, while +Cody was but eighty.</p> + +<p>However, nearness depended not so much on +miles as on accessibility, and for the thousandth +time Ross wondered where he was.</p> + +<p>He could not reason from the memory of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span> +tortuous windings of that stormy afternoon’s +journey, with no view of the sun’s face to guide +him; but his strong impression was that he was +many miles northwest of Meadow Creek, with at +least three chains of peaks between him and +Weimer.</p> + +<p>Then he fell to wondering again about the +shack. Did it belong to one of the McKenzie +relatives? Who had given it over to his use +for the winter? He suspected that, while the furnishings +and the clothing had been left there by the +owner, the McKenzies had planned for his winter’s +residence, and had partially, at least, stocked his +larder, as the owner would not be likely to desert +such a supply of meat, especially the fresh venison. +Perhaps the venison was due to Weston’s forethought. +Ross liked to think that Weston had +done all that he dared do for the comfort of +"Doc Tenderfoot."</p> + +<p>"He’s a bigger man," mused "Doc"; "and yet +he seems more than half afraid of Sandy. Wonder +what the trouble is."</p> + +<p>That night the wind changed, the temperature +dropped, and the next morning snow began to +fall, lightly, however. Again and again Ross +went out for trial trips on the fast freezing crust, +but not until afternoon did he venture on the +journey to the cliff.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span>The shack stood among the trees on the mountainside +about ten feet above the level of the +caņon. Taking with him a long pole with a +sharpened end, which he found in the shack, +Ross slid from tree to tree until he gained the +level of the caņon. Then, hugging the foot of +the mountain closely, that he might judge of the +lay of the land by the trees, and so avoid the +dreaded creeks and gorges, he turned down the +caņon toward the cliff.</p> + +<p>It was difficult walking, the crust being smooth +and slippery. Several times one foot broke +through, and each time Ross’s heart seemed to +rise in his throat when he considered that he +was walking on a body of snow deeper than he +was high. The caņon had no distinguishing features. +It might have been any one of a dozen +located among the Shoshones, and all of them +unfamiliar to the young man lost in their midst. +On either side, the mountains, dreary and lonely +and lifeless, arose precipitately. It was windless +in the caņon, but on top of the mountains a white, +cold cloud of snow played perpetually.</p> + +<p>But Ross’s eyes were eagerly searching the +mountain at the left for the cliff; and presently +he recognized it despite the curtain of snow drifting +across its face. There it was, stretching up +until his neck ached in the effort to scan the top, +where in an unbroken line along the edge hung +a great body of snow, the undisturbed accumulations +of the last blizzard. The steep side of the +cliff, however, was bare, and Ross failed to discover +a rope dangling over its surface.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i6'></a><img src='images/i-308.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +THE SNOW HID IT FROM VIEW +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span>He thought he had not expected to see it there, +and so could not account for the sinking of his +heart when he found it gone. For a few moments +he stood looking down the caņon hemmed in by +its great mountain barriers. He fully realized the +fact that he was a prisoner within those barriers, +perfectly helpless until released by the brief summer.</p> + +<p>With bent head he turned his back to the cliff +and cautiously retraced his steps while a wildly +whirling "squall" suddenly caught him in its +clutches. He had gone but a short distance before +a sound in the rear caused him to wheel about and +listen sharply. Only a smother of snow, swirling +up the caņon, met his eyes and a blast of the rising +wind his ears. Hesitating, he struggled back a +few steps and turned his face up toward the cliff. +The snow hid it from view. He stood listening +again, and, presently, the sound, above him and a +little in advance, again mingled with the roar of +the wind. Ross broke into a run, panting through +the storm, breaking through the crust, struggling +to his feet and tumbling on again. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span> +certainly the call of a human voice, although no +words were distinguishable because of the noise of +the wind.</p> + +<p>Ross, obsessed by one idea, raised his voice: +"Miller–Weston!" he yelled frantically. "I’m +here–below here! Where are you?"</p> + +<p>But the wind swooped down on him, seized his +words and bore them down the caņon. Then it +suddenly died away, and again the snow fell +quietly, mistily, and Ross, looking up, saw, as in a +nightmare, a rope dangling across the face of the +cliff. In bewildered joyousness he pressed his +hand against his eyes and looked again.</p> + +<p>"It’s there!" he cried, "but it certainly wasn’t +ten minutes ago. That’s the queerest–I know I +saw straight before<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>He opened his lips to call again, but the call was +checked by the discovery of a man half-way down +the cliff, creeping along on what looked to be a +thread of snow fastened diagonally across the dark +surface of the rock, but which Ross at once recognized +as the narrow ledge he himself had trod +only three days before. Slowly the figure was +progressing, its feet kicking away the snow lodged +on the ledge, its hands clinging to the bare face of +the cliff. Then, faintly into the lull of the storm +a nervous voice floated down to Ross from the +thread-like path.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311'></a>311</span>"I’m almost down, I guess, Miller. Hope I can +get to the cabin before another squall strikes us."</p> + +<p>Then, from the top of the cliff, the barely distinguishable +words behind the veil of falling +snow, "All right. Remember you’ll find Doc not +half a mile straight ahead. The cabin’s on the +right, as I’ve told ye. It’s above a bunch of seven +spruces. Ye won’t need yer snow-shoes–crust’ll +hold down there."</p> + +<p>Ross waited to hear no more. "Leslie!" he +yelled joyously. "Ho, Leslie! I’m down here. +Come on! Hurray for that rope again!"</p> + +<p>But even as the hurray ascended the side of the +cliff, so did the rope. Snakily, jerkily, the knotted +end traveled upward until it disappeared in the +cloud of snow that hid the mountain tops.</p> + +<p>From this cloud came a faint and far-away +voice: "Good luck t’ ye! Tell Doc ye’re in the +same boat as he is. He’ll savvy!"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312'></a>312</span><a id='link_16'></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE INGRATITUDE OF WESTON</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> presence of Leslie without snow-shoes, the +disappearance of the rope, and Weston’s voice +caused Ross to "savvy" immediately in impotent +anger and bitter disappointment. But not until +the two boys had reached the cabin and Leslie was +warming himself beside the hot stove, did he fully +comprehend the trick that had been played on +him.</p> + +<p>"Weston!" he exclaimed stupidly in answer to +Ross’s explanation. "Why, this isn’t the man you +told about at Sagehen Roost–it’s the Miller that +you went away with. I saw that Weston fellow, +you know. They’re not the same!"</p> + +<p>"It’s evident that when you’ve seen Weston +you’ve seen any number of men that he cares to +imitate. This Miller is Weston, the McKenzies’ +cousin and the man you<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" Here Ross checked +himself, as Leslie had not yet connected the dark-haired +Weston with the light-haired Oklahoma +man of the same name.</p> + +<p>Finally, after supper, Leslie recovered from his +bewilderment sufficiently to tell connectedly the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313'></a>313</span> +story of the days that had intervened between +Ross’s departure from Meadow Creek and his own.</p> + +<p>"Begin at the beginning," urged Ross finally, +putting a pine chunk in the stove and snuffing the +candle.</p> + +<p>He had seated the newcomer in the armchair +beside the fire, while he sat on an overturned box +in front of the stove door and within reach of a +heap of wood. On the table at his elbow lay the +gun which Steele had insisted on adding to his +equipment the day he arrived in Meadow Creek +and which he had not since touched. Leslie had +brought it strapped across his shoulders and with +it all the ammunition which Steele had provided. +This was another proof of Weston’s strangely curious +good will that continued to puzzle Ross. How +the unsuspecting Leslie was prevailed on to bring +the limited arsenal was a part of the story which +Ross was demanding. While the storm raged +outside and the dim candle-light flickered and +cast long uncanny shadows within, and the pine +chunk flamed and cracked cheerily filling the +room with a warmth grateful to the chilled narrator, +Leslie complied with the request to "begin at +the beginning."</p> + +<p>"I’d no sooner seen your back, Ross, as you +followed Miller out of the door, than I had an +awfully uncomfortable feeling of responsibility. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314'></a>314</span> +By the time the storm had swallowed you two up, +the whole outfit there at Weimer’s was sitting +hard on my shoulders. We watched you out of +sight, Uncle Jake and I, and then we went back +into the cabin and, Ross, if that cabin seems to +Uncle Jake now as–well–as–when you left<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Leslie paused and stared at the candle. Ross drew +his seat nearer the stove and cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Jake has stayed there a lot in the winter +all alone, you must remember. He was telling +me about it not long ago, how the<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Above the cabin, through the roaring and soughing +of the wind among the spruce, came the long +drawn yelling, harassed, pitiful cry of a coyote. +From the caņon the cry was answered. Again +and again the two human-like voices wailed despairingly +at each other while the boys involuntarily +drew nearer together and Ross laid a caressing +hand on the gun and finished his speech:</p> + +<p>"That’s exactly what Uncle Jake told me–how +the coyotes and wolves prowled around, and he +didn’t mind them nor the loneliness at all."</p> + +<p>Leslie nodded. "I noticed that he didn’t seem +to mind your being away in the same way I did. +He just took to his pipe and his bunk and seemed +settled for a rest until you got back again. That +didn’t add any to my restfulness, I can tell you, +for what could I do up in the tunnel without him? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315'></a>315</span> +I rustled around a bit trying to decide what to do +when the door opened and there was Miller again, +or Weston rather. I was as surprised as they +make ’em until he said:</p> + +<p>"’Say, young feller, Doc he sent me back t’ +round up a book on medicine that he may need. +It’ll be layin’ round loose som’ers, maybe in that +hair covered chist of hisn.’"</p> + +<p>Leslie went on to say that when he had opened +Ross’s emergency chest Weston professed to have +forgotten the name of the book he had been directed +to fetch, and, consequently, had taken all the +books, stuffing them carelessly into his game pouch. +Then the storm had again swallowed him up.</p> + +<p>"After he went away," said Leslie, "I got to +thinking pretty strongly about the dynamite. If +it was so easy for one man to get into the valley +from the land only knew where, why couldn’t the +McKenzies make their way back and spirit the +dynamite off for good and all? We’d gone and +touched off that charge under Soapweed Ledge to +make ’em understand that we had it again, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know!" affirmed Ross grimly. "Geese +that we were!"</p> + +<p>"Well, those sticks got on my nerves, and I +made up my mind to fasten them up if such a +thing were possible. So I put on my snow-shoes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316'></a>316</span> +and began to rattle around in the storm to see +what I could do. I thought no one could come up +into the tool house from under because of the mass +of snow all around, and because the dynamite box +was so heavy with all of your and our and the +McKenzies’ sticks in it that it held the floor boards +down with a vengeance. But I wasn’t taking any +chances after seeing what our ’friends the enemy’ +were capable of doing, so I got all the spike nails +that Weimer had and nailed down the floor. Then +I plowed through the storm up to Wilson’s shack, +shoveled my way in, collected all the tools that +could be used to pry or hammer with and brought +’em back to our tool house. And with them, Ross, +I brought a great padlock and chain that I recollected +seeing up there rusty and unused. I oiled +it and put a bar across the tool-house door and +padlocked it. And if I do say it, it would cost a +man some time and strength and racket to get into +that shack. It would also take some tools, and +there’s none in the valley except what are behind +that locked door, for before night came I had +raided the McKenzie cabin and brought over all +their tools. Then," continued Leslie, "I went to +sleep feeling some better."</p> + +<p>"I’ll bet you," cried Ross eagerly, "that it’s +because you fastened up the dynamite that you’re +here! I do believe that when Weston went back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317'></a>317</span> +it would have been easier to cache that if he could +have got it than to have brought you here."</p> + +<p>"I don’t know, Ross." Leslie gave a short laugh. +"It was easy enough to get me here, as easy as to +get you. I–but you want the story as it comes."</p> + +<p>"Every word of it. Go on. The next day<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>The next day, Leslie continued, so furious a +blizzard was raging that he didn’t work in the +tunnel but spent the time keeping open the trails +to the dump, the wood-pile and the spring. But +the second day, the sky having cleared, he tried +his best to get Weimer to work.</p> + +<p>"Ich vill vork mit Doc," was Uncle Jake’s declaration +of independence, "mit you, nein!"</p> + +<p>"You can imagine, Ross, how much work I did +alone, not used to going ahead with the blasting. +When I came down at noon the old fellow had +dished up a capital dinner. He washed the +dishes, but not one step would he budge to the +tunnel. Said that you were likely to drop in any +time that day and he’d stay in and watch for you. +Said it would be work enough for him to do to +fill you up after your long tramp through the +snow! He simply boiled over with ready excuses. +When I went up to the tunnel I left him with his +goggles on, swinging open the door about once in +two minutes for a look over on Soapweed Ledge. +You know it was clear that day and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318'></a>318</span>Here Leslie suddenly paused and sat up with a +jerk. He gripped the arms of the chair and gave +a startled exclamation.</p> + +<p>"See here, Ross, that clearness business has reminded +me of something that I noticed in the +morning, and, because I thought it couldn’t be +true, I paid but little attention. But now I know–well, +this is what it was: when I reached the +dump I glanced across the valley at the McKenzie +shack. It seemed completely buried in snow except +the roof and the chimney stovepipe, and at +first I imagined that I saw heat coming out of that +stovepipe! You know how, after a hot fire, the +heat will crinkle the air above a chimney and no +smoke in sight?"</p> + +<p>"That’s so!" exclaimed Ross. "And you +think<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"At the time I thought it was a mere notion of +mine, but now I believe I saw correctly, and that +Weston was there waiting to dispose of my case."</p> + +<p>"That’s the idea," agreed Ross excitedly. "There +all the time after he left me, probably. He had +likely got him a hot breakfast before you were up +and then let the fire die."</p> + +<p>Leslie nodded. "Same as I did when I was +hiding down in Miners’ Camp. But, anyway, I +didn’t investigate and forgot all about that chimney +until this minute."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319'></a>319</span>Here Leslie broke off to ask abruptly, "Another +thing, Ross, right here before I forget. The day +you left, you remember Uncle Jake was sick and +you went down to get dinner and left me in the +tunnel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, only a few minutes after you left I looked +out and you, as I supposed then, stood in the mouth +of the tunnel<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Nope, ’twas Weston," interrupted Ross. "He +said he went up there first. He came to the shack +from that direction."</p> + +<p>"Then he got a squint at the work and the dynamite +and your assistant right then! I thought it +was queer I didn’t get an answer when I yelled to +know if you had dinner ready. But just as I +spoke, the figure took a sneak, and I supposed you +had just stopped a bit to look things over."</p> + +<p>"Weston was attending to that, evidently," retorted +Ross promptly. "But now let’s see–you’ve +brought the happenings up to to-day, haven’t +you?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite," Leslie answered. "I’ll be there in +a minute, though. Yesterday I got as uneasy as +Weimer over your not getting back, and Miller, or +Weston, I mean, not coming as he promised. I +confess I was in a blue funk by afternoon, and I +saw things were shaping for another storm. I went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320'></a>320</span> +slipping and sliding out beside the dump a dozen +times where I could look over to Soapweed Ledge +while Uncle Jake tramped around outside the +shack continually watching for you."</p> + +<p>"Poor Uncle Jake!" muttered Ross stirring uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Well, that brings me to to-day," Leslie began +after a pause. "I was down beside the dump looking +for you about eleven o’clock this morning when +I saw him coming over the Ledge–Weston, I mean. +Same goggles, same cap drawn down over his ears, +same outfit except the game pouch. I noticed as +soon as he came near that the pouch was gone. +Tell you what, Ross, I made tracks down the trail, +got my snow-shoes on and went to meet him. I +would have hurried to meet a Hottentot! Uncle +Jake stayed behind jabbering in German, and +fairly dancing up and down in his excitement because +you had not come with Weston."</p> + +<p>Ross, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his +palms, staring at Leslie, saw in a flash the latter as +he had appeared at Sagehen Roost, overbearing +and dictatorial. Then he saw him running across +the lonely valley of Meadow Creek eager to meet +any one on a fraternal footing.</p> + +<p>"Weston must have left his shack and made a +long trip behind it up the mountain and around +over the summit to have come in on the Ledge; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321'></a>321</span> +don’t you think so?" asked Ross. "He probably +didn’t want to run any risk of being seen."</p> + +<p>Leslie assented and went on with his story. He +had gone to meet Weston with a demand as to +Ross’s whereabouts and return.</p> + +<p>"Don’t ye worry none about Doc," Weston declared +heartily. "He’s fixin’ things fine over our +way. Doc’s all right!"</p> + +<p>"So he is," Leslie agreed, "and for that reason +we want him right here, Uncle Jake and I!"</p> + +<p>"Wall," Weston drawled good-naturedly, "he +says the same about you even t’ wantin’ ye where +he is now for a day."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Leslie asked.</p> + +<p>The two had been walking back toward the +shack and the frantic Weimer, and Weston did not +explain until he had assured Uncle Jake of Ross’s +safety and health, and was seated beside the stove.</p> + +<p>"Not once while he was there," Leslie told Ross, +"not even when he was eating dinner, did he take +off his cap–merely pushed it back a little. Uncle +Jake urged him to shed it, but he just grinned and +said he had a bald spot on the top of his head, and +had got into the habit of wearing his cap all the +time to keep that spot warm. Said he guessed he +wouldn’t ’bust into that habit now.’ I thought +he was an odd Dick to get into such a habit, and +with a fur cap, too, but it was all so plausible, Ross, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322'></a>322</span> +everything he said was said with such an air of +truth, that I didn’t once suspect."</p> + +<p>"No more did I," confessed Ross.</p> + +<p>"And then, of course, I was awfully interested +in what he had to tell, and ask me to do. He told +a clever lie, Ross. He said that you had brought +down an elk with his gun and wanted me to come +back with him and the sled you had made to help +the McKenzies haul supplies, and help pack the venison +over the mountains for our winter meat. It was +all the more clever because I knew that meat was +all we needed to make our winter’s supplies good. +The story hit Uncle Jake in the right spot, too. He +hurried up dinner for us to be gone before the big +snow came. Weston thought we could reach his +cabin that night and make it back again to-morrow +morning with the elk meat. He said it would be a +pretty good pull for the three of us, but as there was +a good crust we could make it with that sled. Why, +Doc, there wasn’t a suspicion of deceit in his manner. +He said you had fixed his pard up all right +and would leave some stuff for him, and so didn’t +need to stay any longer. So I went up to the tool +house and got the sled out and we started<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"The gun," interrupted Ross. "Did you think +of the gun?"</p> + +<p>"Not much I didn’t! That was Weston. Just +as we were starting off he turned back and said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323'></a>323</span>"’See here, young feller. Doc said as how ye +was t’ bring his gun along and mebby he could +bring down a mountain sheep as we come back. +They is a lot of them animals over with us.’"</p> + +<p>So the two had turned back and Leslie strapped +Ross’s gun across his shoulders. He carried the +ammunition. Weston insisted on taking all of it +along as he and his partner had run short, and +Ross had promised them a share of his! Then +they had started out, and, screened by the veil of +gently falling snow, entered on the same tortuous, +winding, upward trail that Ross and Weston had +taken a few days previously.</p> + +<p>"And all the way," Leslie continued, "whenever +the trail let us walk together, he was telling me a +long yarn about the day you and he had spent +chasing that elk whose meat we were going after. +I listened, Ross, with my mouth opened half the +time, and wished a dozen times, if I did once, that +I had been with you.</p> + +<p>"Well, as the afternoon passed, the storm became +heavier, and part of the way we couldn’t see +a dozen feet before us, and finally I think Weston +himself was uncertain of our way although he +said he wasn’t. It must have been about four +o’clock when we came to the head of the ledge. +Weston searched and groped along until he came +to a tree where a rope was already tied.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324'></a>324</span>"’It’s the one I used fer Doc and me,’" he explained +and slung it over the cliff.</p> + +<p>"He had been hauling the sled along, while all I +had to carry was the gun and ammunition. Now +he said that I had better leave my snow-shoes on top +of the cliff and tie the end of the rope around my +waist and he would let me down to the ledge. +That I was to kick clear of snow and then go up +the caņon and get you to come down and help +heave the sled over and get it down to the caņon. +He said you would know better than I how to do +that. He kept giving me directions about where +to find the cabin, for the snow had thickened until +we couldn’t see the ledge, to say nothing of the +caņon. You see, Ross, I’ll confess I was too nervous +about going over into space attached to that +rope to think that his proceeding was queer. I +just didn’t question a thing, but shut my eyes and +went over. It didn’t occur to me to wonder why +my snow-shoes, instead of that gun, weren’t tied +on my shoulders. Well, I struck the ledge and +untied the rope and felt my way along that ticklish +shelf until the squall lifted and then–you know +the rest. If I live to be a hundred I’ll never forget +how I felt when that rope was drawn up and +he yelled down that I was to tell you I was in the +same boat that you were!"</p> + +<p>It was late and Leslie was too tired to talk +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325'></a>325</span> +longer. Ross gave him the bunk and, waiting +only long enough to fill the stove with wood, close +the draughts and blow out the candles, wrapped +up in a blanket and lay down beside the stove, his +coat for a pillow. He did not fall asleep at once, +but lay staring up at the flicker of firelight dancing +about on the mud-chinked logs overhead.</p> + +<p>After all his planning and working, he thought, +his mission in the mountains was doomed to failure. +The claims would pass into the McKenzies’ +hands, and, besides, he would have missed one +year of the preparation for the work he had chosen. +He rolled over and half groaned.</p> + +<p>"Awake, Ross?" came from the bunk. "I’m +so tired I haven’t dropped off yet and, besides–say, +Ross, here I am and there’s dad waiting for +me to turn up with that missing five hundred–and +then your claims–we’re not exactly in luck, +are we? I feel as though I’d like to get my hands +on that Weston-Miller fellow’s throat."</p> + +<p>"There’s one thing I can do, though–study," +muttered Ross. "That I’ve got to hold myself +to."</p> + +<p>Conversation languished then, and both boys +fell asleep, Ross’s last thought being of Weimer +watching for their return in the lonely valley of +Meadow Creek.</p> + +<p>By daylight the following morning the two were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326'></a>326</span> +up, full of plans for living and doing during the +long months of their imprisonment.</p> + +<p>"There are some nails, but no hammer," said +Ross. "But we can drive ’em with a stick of +wood and fix up another bunk out of these two +boxes. They’re the longest, and I think they’ll fill +the bill for my five feet ten. Then we’ll divide +the straw and the blankets, and by keeping up the +fire all night, I guess we won’t freeze to death."</p> + +<p>On the floor in the corner back of the stove they +built the bunk. There were not nails enough nor +were the boxes strong enough to allow of making +a substantial bunk such as the owner of the shack +had built against the side logs.</p> + +<p>Until the bunk was completed, Leslie, while +working docilely enough under the older boy’s +direction, regarded the more comfortable bunk as +his permanent possession. He had never been +taught to be unselfish. He had from his motherless +childhood demanded what he wished and +received it until the question arose of his continued +attendance in school. There he had taken +the course he wished and was now paying for it +dearly. It was not until he was dividing the straw +in his bunk and had come across Ross’s watch +and pocketbook that the idea smote him hard that +the other had vacated the easier bunk in a wordless +generosity that he, Leslie, had never practiced, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327'></a>327</span> +and that he had not even thanked the bunk’s +former occupant.</p> + +<p>"See here, Ross," he began brusquely, "you +needn’t think that you’re going to rest your old +bones in the new bunk all the time, for you ain’t! +I shall try it myself half the time."</p> + +<p>"Week and week about, then," Ross agreed. +"And this brings us up against a calendar. I +brought my watch, thank fortune! But what +about a calendar? I want to be sure that I know +when the 4th of July gets here, for Steele says +you’d never know it except by the calendar, there’s +so much snow."</p> + +<p>"Snow!" groaned Leslie. "Snow! There’s +never a time when there isn’t snow in these mountains, +it seems. Well, I know what day to-morrow +is, and–have you a pencil?"</p> + +<p>Ross slapped the breast pocket of his slicker. +"Yep, a long one. And there’s one in the pockets +of the trousers you’ll find in that box," nodding +toward the repository of the shack owner’s clothing. +"Guess we will keep a record of the days up +on the side logs. I know how many in each +month when I say that old jingle, ’Thirty days +hath September,’ etc."</p> + +<p>But the need of a calendar was not so pressing +as the need of wood. The few days that Ross had +spent in the shack had caused an alarming shrinkage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328'></a>328</span> +in the pile of chunks already cut; and Ross, +commencing to shovel his way to the nearest pine +tree, now ran across a number of logs which had +been "snaked" down the mountainside before the +snow came, and lay ready for the axe and saw.</p> + +<p>"I guess if Aunt Anne were here, she’d not complain +that I took no exercise," he muttered grimly, +shouldering a short cross cut saw.</p> + +<p>While he sawed Leslie got dinner. After dinner +Leslie took his turn at the saw and axe while +Ross considered the matter of the calendar. Looking +about the shack, his glance fell on Weston’s +game pouch. He had hung it on a peg driven between +two side logs and had forgotten it.</p> + +<p>"The very thing!" he exclaimed aloud. "We +can mark the days on the margin of the old newspapers +that are in the bottom of that pouch."</p> + +<p>Taking the bag down he dumped the crushed +papers out on the table, and sitting down, began to +smooth them out, glancing over the contents idly. +He found nothing which interested him until he +reached the last wad. When he spread this out, +he found, stuck to the newspaper by candle-drippings, +a scrap of coarse note paper which at +once riveted his attention. It contained only the +latter part of one sentence and the first part of +another.</p> + +<p>"<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>come and help us out, and no fooling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329'></a>329</span> +about it, either. If you back out I will turn you +over to old man Quinn<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Over and over Ross read these words. They +were few and short, but to him now they were the +intelligible index to a whole volume. The scrap +was stuck to a "Gazette" bearing a date which was +just previous to Weston’s appearance in Meadow +Creek. There was no name to show that Sandy +had written the letter, but Ross knew Weston had +escaped from Oklahoma. No doubt Sandy possessed +the knowledge that compelled his obedience.</p> + +<p>Ross drew a long breath. "Strange what parts +of two sentences may tell a fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Tell a fellow what?" demanded Leslie’s curious +voice at his elbow. A hand came over his shoulder +and pinned the paper down to the table while +Leslie read the contents aloud.</p> + +<p>"’Old man Quinn,’" he finished excitedly. +"Why, that is my father, but–Lon Weston–say, +what does that mean, Ross?"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330'></a>330</span><a id='link_17'></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>A RANDOM SHOT</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>For</span> an instant Ross made no reply. He sat +with his back to the door and had not heard Leslie +enter. Turning slowly he looked up with puzzled +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Less, there’s something that I’ve not told you +before–because–I guess because I’ve thought it +wasn’t fair to tell. But after Weston has brought +us away off here and dumped us in this wilderness–even +if he has done it out of fear of Sandy–well, +it seems to me that about now he has forfeited all +right to my silence."</p> + +<p>Leslie fell back in astonishment, the scraps of +the letter still in his hand. "Doc, are you getting +luny? What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>Ross laughed ruefully. "Just thinking out +loud, that’s all. Now I’ll get right down to business +about Weston. You said you knew a fellow in +Oklahoma by his name–Lon Weston."</p> + +<p>Leslie pursed his lips incredulously. "Yes, but +as I said, our Lon Weston had light hair and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331'></a>331</span> +didn’t murder the King’s English like this man, +and he hadn’t a husky voice."</p> + +<p>"Just so!" cried Ross triumphantly. "Neither +does this Lon Weston murder the English language +when he is talking like himself, nor has he a husky +voice naturally nor has he dark hair! It’s colored +dark–near the roots, as I found out, it’s light."</p> + +<p>"Jiminy crickstones!" cried Leslie excitedly. +"If that’s true, it’s one on me! Come to think of +it, Weston was forever imitating folks, but I never +have seen him in such a serious imitation as this. +How do you know all about him, anyway?"</p> + +<p>From this Ross proceeded to tell what he knew +except Weston’s connection with the note laid +under the electric bulb in the bedroom of "The +Irma." That much he felt himself pledged not to +relate, but its omission, really, in no way detracted +from the proof of Weston’s identity. Furthermore, +Ross, concerned only with that identity, +began his recital with Sheepy’s talk about Weston +forgetting the photograph which had revealed the +injured man’s name.</p> + +<p>"You can see," Ross concluded, "by putting +together all the evidence, that he is the fourth +man your father is after, and that Sandy has come +it over him completely, knowing that he is the +fourth. The more I think of it the more I’m +convinced of Sandy’s power. Sandy holds this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332'></a>332</span> +cudgel over his head and makes him do the dirty +work. But, no matter how big the cudgel is, he +had no business to play this low-down trick on us."</p> + +<p>"Wait till we get out of here!" declared Leslie +wrathfully, "and I’ll make him pay for his trick!" +Suddenly his face lighted. "Ross, see here! Dad +has been hunting for that fourth man for two +years, and if I can go to him and tell him who it +is and set him on the right track, well–I’ll stand +in better with dad, that’s all! The five hundred +that I can’t begin to earn until next summer won’t +be in it beside that information!"</p> + +<p>Then, as suddenly as it had come, the light died +out of the boy’s face. He sat down on the table +and rubbed his forehead in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"But, Ross, there’s another side to this. For +me to do that would knock things endwise with +Sue."</p> + +<p>"Sue," repeated Ross, "who is Sue?"</p> + +<p>"I’ve got a sister," explained Leslie. "She’s +four or five years older. She keeps house for us. +She’s an awfully good girl, Sue is, although," +turning his head shamefacedly away, "she’d be +surprised to hear me say so, for we, dad and I, +have made her a lot of trouble. Dad’s as up and +down with her as with me and I–say, Ross, I’ve +been a nuisance at home!"</p> + +<p>Leslie choked. He looked slowly around the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333'></a>333</span> +cramped, dirty, ill-lighted room, so unlike the +neat, pleasant home presided over by Sue, and +swallowed hard. Ross industriously made notches +in the edge of the table with his pocket-knife.</p> + +<p>Finally Leslie, clearing his throat, continued, +"I guess all this serves me about right. I know +I ought to be kicked–and I am being–in a way. +Well, it’s always been up to Sue to put up with us +both, and she has. And then three years ago Lon +Weston came. You see, Ross, dad is a sheep +owner, and North Bend is on the edge of the range +between sheep and cattle, and that always means +war. About three miles away is a cattle ranch, +and Peck, the owner, and dad are always by the +ears. It was at Peck’s that Lon was foreman, and +he used to come over to North Bend to see my +sister whenever dad would let ’im, but things were +never very smooth for ’em. Of course, I didn’t +see much of him because I was off at school most +of the year. I was away when the cattlemen had +their big round-up two years ago in the fall. +After each had cut out his own bunch of cattle and +shipped ’em, a lot of the boys went on a drunk +and dad lost his sheep. Naturally he went up in +the air at the loss and was at the throat of every +cattle owner and cowboy for miles around. And, +first thing, of course he came down on Sue about +Lon’s coming to the house and forbid ’er to see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334'></a>334</span> +him again, not because he suspected Lon, but just +because he was Peck’s foreman and a cowboy.</p> + +<p>"Well, Lon cleared out right off and Sue cried +herself sick. She never said anything, but I’ve +guessed that Lon never has written to ’er and I’m +afraid she’s foolish enough," tolerantly, "to think +a lot of him.</p> + +<p>"But I never suspected that Lon was in the +bunch that sent dad’s sheep over, and I know that +no one else around the ranch suspects it, because +of Lon’s coming to see Sue right along. Still–there +were times when he was a pretty rough +customer, and–it’s a mixed up mess, ain’t it, Ross, +along with Sue?"</p> + +<p>Ross had been leaning forward on the table listening +eagerly. Two or three times he had started +to interrupt, and had checked himself with difficulty. +Now he burst out:</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten the girl’s photo in Lon’s +pocket, Leslie. I know now it’s Sue’s picture, because +it looks like you. It fell out of his pocket +at Sagehen Roost, and both Hank and I saw it, and +then, when you came, you puzzled Hank because +he thought he had seen you before!"</p> + +<p>"The very idea!" exclaimed Leslie indignantly +when Ross had told him about the name on the +photograph. "How dare he carry my sister’s +picture around with him after doing dad such a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335'></a>335</span> +dirty trick. Oh, I have it in for him all right! I +don’t wonder the McKenzies knew they had to get +rid of me before they could make Lon come over +to Meadow Creek! I see now! I presume he +thinks that dad has been on his track these two +years. I wonder if Sandy and Waymart were +with Peck at the same time Lon was?"</p> + +<p>For a long time the boys talked over the affair +in all its bearings, and as the long lonely days +passed, they recalled every incident that had occurred +since they left Oklahoma and Pennsylvania. +Their conversations mostly took place in the evening +by the light of one dim candle, or in the +darkness relieved only by the flicker of the firelight, +as candles were not plenty. It was at that +dreary time between day and night with the wind +and the coyotes howling outside that the homesickness +that they could fight successfully in daylight +had its inning.</p> + +<p>"But what if I were here alone!" Ross exclaimed +periodically.</p> + +<p>His gratitude at having Leslie there softened his +anger at Weston, although he knew that the bringing +of Leslie had been no philanthropic move on +Weston’s part.</p> + +<p>Soon, however, the boys settled to a routine of +work, exercise and study planned by Ross and acquiesced +in by Leslie, all, at first, save the study. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336'></a>336</span> +In that Ross began with no thought of aid from +the other or partnership with him until one day +when he sat with a book on anatomy before him +industriously absorbing the pages. Presently, +turning his book over on its face, he resolutely +closed his eyes against the outer world, and his +ears against Leslie’s lively whistle, mentally reviewing +the facts he had been conning. Suddenly +Leslie, who had been lying in the bunk, came over +to the table and, picking up the text-book, lazily +bade Ross think aloud.</p> + +<p>"It’s so deadly lonely, Ross, with you poring +over those dull books," complained Leslie, "that +I’d rather hear you recite than not to hear anything +at all!"</p> + +<p>From this trifling beginning, a student partnership +grew up. At first the task meant to Leslie +only a form of passing the time away, of hearing a +human voice instead of the crackle of the fire and +the sough of the wind. Then, gradually, his interest +in the subject of anatomy was awakened. +He began to look at himself with a new interest.</p> + +<p>"I say, Ross," he burst out one day when he +was frying bacon, "I never have thought of myself +before as being made up of parts that must +work together smoothly–and I never considered +how they must work and that some one or other +must know just how they ought to work so that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337'></a>337</span> +he can put ’em together if they fall out of place. +Now, about that femur, and ball and socket joint +at the hip here<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Immediately Ross plunged into a lively description +which soon led both boys to the books for +proof and illustration, and Leslie’s interest grew. +From being merely the holder of the book while +Ross recited and explained what he had studied, +Leslie, the "hater" of studies, began to study also, +at first, in a fitful way, and then more steadily as +Ross proved himself an enthusiastic teacher.</p> + +<p>Neither, however, became so absorbed in his +studies as to become reconciled to his enforced +residence above the seven spruces. Day after day +they ventured out and up and down the caņon, or +up the side of the mountain on the side of which +their shack was located, but no discoveries resulted. +The absence of snow-shoes made travel +impossible except on top of a strong crust, and +even then a realization of a constantly increasing +danger resulted in making such trips shorter and +shorter. The danger was this: blizzard succeeded +blizzard until the willows, ten feet tall, which +grew thickly in the caņon, were completely concealed, +also the scrub hemlocks and quaking asp +on the mountainside. The tops of the bushes, +lashed by the wind until they became finally snow +covered, formed each a dangerous hollow under a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338'></a>338</span> +crust thinner and weaker than the surrounding +surface. This painful discovery was made by Leslie.</p> + +<p>One bright day, leaving Ross to cut off the +branches of a tree that he had felled for fire-wood, +Leslie took the gun and started down the caņon on +a tour of exploration.</p> + +<p>"The crust is stout enough to hold up an ox, +Doc," he declared, bringing the butt of the gun +down on it hard, "and I’m going out to see what +there is to see–and shoot."</p> + +<p>"Shoot!" echoed Ross, poising the axe in air. +"I’d like to see something shootable up here beside +coyotes, and we never see them–only hear ’em!" +and the axe descended with a thud.</p> + +<p>Leslie laughed, shouldered the gun and tramped +briskly down the caņon, while Ross wielded the +axe and, whistling cheerfully, thought of the progress +he was making in his studies.</p> + +<p>Presently, he rested on his axe handle and +chafed his cheeks and nose briskly with the shaggy +mittens he had found in the box of clothing left in +the shack. "I don’t want any more frost bites in +mine!" he muttered. He had had several experiences +of the kind that winter, the altitude being +so great that he did not realize the intense cold +until nose or cheek or ear had become frost nipped.</p> + +<p>He was resuming his axe when a faint sound +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339'></a>339</span> +traveled up the caņon on the wings of a slow south +wind. Ross straightened himself and listened. +Again came the wind and the sound. With the +axe in his hand he slipped and slid down the +mountainside until he stood in the caņon below +the seven spruce trees. There he paused long +enough to distinguish in the sound the faint muffled +cry, "Ross!" and "Help!"</p> + +<p>"Coming!" yelled Ross frantically. "Where +are you?"</p> + +<p>He did not await a reply but, slipping unsteadily +along the icy crust, he hurried down the caņon +in the general direction of Leslie’s voice, yelling +intermittently, "Coming–here I am! Where are +you, Less?"</p> + +<p>As he came to the cliff over which he had been +lowered into the caņon, he heard Leslie’s voice +again, still curiously muffled, although evidently +only a little way in advance. It seemed to rise +from beneath the ground.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Ross. Don’t come fast. I’ve fallen +through among the willows."</p> + +<p>Cautiously Ross advanced toward the voice, testing +the strength of the crust at every step until it +gave under the stamping of his heel. Then he +stopped and found himself looking down a section +of shelving crust into a hole filled with loose snow, +willow tops–and Leslie.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340'></a>340</span>"Great guns!" cried Ross. "What are you +doing in there?"</p> + +<p>Leslie attempted to respond nonchalantly, but +his face was nearly as white as the bed of snow he +was occupying, and his teeth chattered with cold +and fright.</p> + +<p>"I’ve been flopping around here for half an hour +yelling," he explained jerkily, "and have only +managed to sink deeper and break off more crust +and more willow tops."</p> + +<p>"Rub your nose and face the next thing you +do," advised Ross immediately, "or you’ll be a +mass of frost bite."</p> + +<p>He rubbed his own nose meditatively. Then +grasping the axe he cried cheerfully, "Hold the +fort a while longer down there, Less, and relief will +arrive. See here! I hadn’t finished the wood and +I ran off with the axe. Now I’ll skiddoo and cut a +pole and help you out. And don’t forget to rub +your face!"</p> + +<p>Laboriously and fearfully–lest he meet with +Leslie’s fate–Ross climbed the side of the mountain +until he stood among the branches of a sturdy +spruce, the depth of snow raising him to that +height. Cutting and trimming a long limb, he +dragged it back to the caņon. Projecting one end +over the hole he sat hard on the other. Then Leslie, +by jumping and seizing the projecting end, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341'></a>341</span> +bracing against the sloping sheet of crust, climbed, +breathless but relieved, to the surface of the snow.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Ross," he said emphatically as +they made their way gingerly back to the shack, +"I’ve done all the research work I want to in this +caņon!" He shivered and slapped his hands +smartly together. "Without snow-shoes we are +helpless here, and the McKenzies know it!"</p> + +<p>To make snow-shoes without boards or small +nails or a hammer was impossible to workmen of +their inexperience. They broke up some boxes +and put in all their spare time for days experimenting, +but to no purpose.</p> + +<p>"Even if we did succeed, Less," Ross comforted +himself one day as he looked gloomily at their +latest failure, "we couldn’t escape from here. We +have no idea where we are, whether we are nearer +Red Lodge or Cody or Timbuctoo. We would +merely start out and leave a half-way comfortable +certainty for a mighty ticklish uncertainty."</p> + +<p>"That’s right," agreed Leslie, "and we couldn’t +pack enough food on our backs to last many days, +nor can we tell when a storm is coming."</p> + +<p>In fact, storms were the order of the day. By +the middle of February immense masses of snow +curled out over the cliffs on the side of the mountain +opposite the shack waiting for the warm +chinooks of spring to send them hurtling down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342'></a>342</span> +into the caņon. Fortunately, the mountain above +the shack was lower than its neighbors, and the +face, heavily wooded, sloped back more gently until +it reached a great elevation.</p> + +<p>"The trees here prove that there have been no +snowslides within the memory of this generation, +at any rate," Ross broke out one day as they were +sawing the branches from a spruce on the mountainside +above the shack. "Now, if the shack +were on the other side<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"But it wouldn’t be built on the other side," +interrupted Leslie. "No cabin builder would do +such a thing unless he built when he first struck +this country as young and green as we were!"</p> + +<p>Ross laughed and started the branch he had +trimmed down the mountainside on the crust. It +skidded along rapidly until it wedged itself into a +great snow bank which had drifted from the shack +to the trees on either side, and through which the +boys had tunneled. With the last branch sent +home in this convenient fashion, Ross shouldered +the axe and picked up the saw, while Leslie took +the gun from a near-by branch where it had been +slung, and followed down the mountainside.</p> + +<p>With the increase in the depth of the snow, the +coyotes and gray wolves had grown bolder, and +without the gun the boys never went now outside +of their dooryard, as they called the spaces they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343'></a>343</span> +had cleared around the shack. So far, however, +the coyotes had only skulked near the strongly +built lean-to, attracted by the smell of the meat, +while the wolves contented themselves by howling +at night from the rocks far above the cabin, and +being answered from the mountainside opposite.</p> + +<p>"I have always heard that the gray wolf is a +coward," commented Leslie as the two entered the +shack. "We have not had a glimpse of one yet."</p> + +<p>"Uncle Jake said they are far more afraid of +people than sensible people are afraid of them," returned +Ross, "but I’d rather not be called sensible +than to meet one face to face!"</p> + +<p>That night the boys turned in early, tired with +their exertions at the wood-pile. About midnight +they were both awakened by a mysterious noise. +Leslie, in the wall bunk, came up on his elbow +before he was fairly awake. Ross, on the floor, +sat up instantly, whispering sharply:</p> + +<p>"Leslie, is that you?"</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Leslie bewildered. "Is it you? +What was that?"</p> + +<p>Before Ross could reply again, the noise was repeated. +It came from above their heads, a soft +padding and crunching on the roof logs. Suddenly +there was added a whining sound and a +scratching at the side and then an increase in the +crunching on the roof.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344'></a>344</span>"Wolves!" cried Ross and Leslie simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"They smell the meat in the lean-to," added +Leslie.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what, Less," said Ross, "I’m glad +we’re inside a stockade. I’ll put my trust in +logs rather than boards with those fellows +around."</p> + +<p>Ross’s voice was decidedly husky, Leslie was +glad to note. His own was almost beyond control +while cold chills ran up and down his spine. +He grunted assent and tried to yawn aloud but +was unsuccessful.</p> + +<p>Then, as the soft padding and eager sniffing +continued, he found his voice in a frightened +quaver, "Ross, can they get into the window, do +you think?"</p> + +<p>"Or break into the door?" added Ross equally +uncertain as to tone. "One thing I know, Less, +they’re afraid of fire."</p> + +<p>At that both boys came out of their bunks and +began to fill the stove with wood. But at these +sounds from below, the wolves departed hastily +and put in the remainder of the night howling +from the side of the mountain a safe distance +away.</p> + +<p>"Guess Uncle Jake is right. They seem as +afraid of us as we are of them!" exclaimed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345'></a>345</span> +Leslie, lighting a candle and setting it in the +window. Then he turned on Ross with a sheepish +grin. "Say, Doc, is my hair standing straight up?"</p> + +<p>Ross passed his hand over his own. "I don’t +see it stand, but if it feels like mine it won’t lie +down again in a week. To-morrow, Less, we’ll +let studies go by the board and have that window +and the door barricaded. Then, if a wolf or two +chance to stumble against them we can turn over +and laugh in our sleep."</p> + +<p>There was no more sleep in the shack that +night, however, and before daylight the boys were +up planning the proposed barricade. They finally +hit on two cross poles for the door, fitted into +crudely carved stanchions nailed to either side. +These bars were removed by day, but when night +came, it was with a feeling of relief that the boys +dropped the bars into their stanchions and knew +the device could foil any wolf that prowled about +the mountains. The window, also, was similarly +barricaded.</p> + +<p>But, secure behind these protections, the boys +soon became accustomed to their midnight visitors, +and even began to look eagerly for them during +the day, Leslie being a fair shot.</p> + +<p>"I would like to get a skin or two, Ross," he +said one evening. "Sue would like ’em as rugs, +you bet!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346'></a>346</span>It was after supper, and the boys, having washed +the dishes, had blown out the candle and were sitting +beside the stove. The draft in front was open, +and the blazing chunks within sent a cheerful +glow dancing past the window and flickering on +the bunk and the side wall beyond. Outside, the +wind soughed among the branches of the seven +spruces, whipping them savagely. It was densely +dark, darker than it would be an hour later when +the moon swung over the tops of the mountain +opposite the shack. There had been no storm for +several days, but severe cold, so that on top of a +strong crust a light snow drifted about continually.</p> + +<p>"I’m satisfied to leave the skin on the brutes if +they’ll agree to leave mine on me!" laughed Ross +in answer to Leslie. "Guess you’re a better sport, +Less, than I am."</p> + +<p>Leslie shook his head. "Aw, I’m no sport," he +disclaimed in a pleased tone. "If I ever think I +am I shall remember the first night the wolves +came."</p> + +<p>He was rubbing his head reminiscently when, +suddenly, there came an unexpected sound from +the neighborhood of the window. There was a +thump against the outer logs, followed by the +splinter of glass and the inward rush of cold air. +This was immediately succeeded by a hasty scraping +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347'></a>347</span> +noise in the midst of which Leslie sprang to +his feet shouting:</p> + +<p>"Wolves! Quick, Ross, the door!"</p> + +<p>While Leslie sprang to the gun hung on pegs +against the logs near the door, Ross fumbled at the +door fastenings and, in a moment, both boys were +out in front in the clearing that they had shoveled +in front of the door and window. The sound was +rapidly retreating down the side of the slope +toward the seven spruces. Eagerly the boys ran +toward the spruces, which, in the darkness, merely +made a darker spot below them. From the midst +of the trees came the scratching sound on the +crust. Throwing the gun to his shoulder Leslie +excitedly fired again and again in the direction of +the rapidly receding sounds.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed when the chambers of +the gun were emptied. "Of course I haven’t hit +anything, but I have the satisfaction of knowing +I’ve shot at a wolf, at least!"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348'></a>348</span><a id='link_18'></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>A HUMILIATING DISCOVERY</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>Returning</span> to the cabin, the boys excitedly split +up a box and, binding the dry splinters together, +thrust one end into the stove. A moment later, +Ross, brandishing this improvised torch, and followed +by Leslie, bearing the gun in hands none +too steady, ran down to the seven spruces.</p> + +<p>This group of trees, full grown and broad +limbed, interlocked their branches at the foot of +the mountain in the path of the high winds which +roared through the caņon as through a funnel between +the high mountains. The trunks formed a +windbreak for the storms that left their load of +snow heaped to the branches on the upper side at +the expense of the lower side where the crust was +swept as clear of loose snow as though by a broom.</p> + +<p>Here, in the shadow of these trees, Leslie, despite +his earnest protest to the contrary, half expected +to see a wolf dead or wounded, but no wolf +appeared. Lowering the torch, the boys made +their way warily around the trees and the drifts +heaped to leeward. The pile of snow had not +been disturbed, nor did they discover any tracks.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349'></a>349</span>"Less, I’m not satisfied," exclaimed Ross finally. +"Something broke that window and something +ran down here. There’s enough loose snow over +this crust to show traces if<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Here the speaker hastily interposed his body between +a gust of wind and the flaring torch.</p> + +<p>"That’s true," asserted Leslie, "but the snow is +so light that this wind has probably moved every +particle of it since that window was broken, and +this crust is too hard to show a track."</p> + +<p>Ross uttered a sudden exclamation and plunged +forward, the torch’s head flaming against the crust.</p> + +<p>"Quick, Less, see here!"</p> + +<p>Leslie sprang forward and bent over the torch. +"Blood!" he shouted. "I did hit him for sure! +There is a–no, see here, Ross, here are some more +drops, a neat little collection! I must have hit +hard. Oh, we can track him now easily!"</p> + +<p>The telltale drops were scattered on the glistening +face of the crust just below the trees. There +was one splash of red and a few inches further +along scattering drops. Sweeping the crust with +the torch the boys cautiously crossed the caņon +taking care to test the crust with the heels of their +shoes as they advanced. But, to their disappointment, +no more blood appeared, and no further +signs of life. Slowly they zigzagged back and +forth, searching and listening, but to no purpose.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350'></a>350</span>"He got away all right," said Leslie in a voice +of deep chagrin. "Guess, after all, I must only +have scratched him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it’s queer that a scratch would have +produced that much blood and not another drop," +returned Ross puzzled. "Such a wound would +keep on bleeding for a few moments at least. We +ought to find more traces right around here."</p> + +<p>Convinced of the soundness of this reasoning, +Leslie urged another search. Stopping long +enough to make a fresh torch they returned to the +blood spots and with them as a center carefully +enlarged the circle of their search until they had +again covered the surface, inch by inch, for yards +around.</p> + +<p>"He must have stopped and licked the wound +clean right here and then streaked it for the +mountains," said Leslie at last.</p> + +<p>Ross shook his head obstinately. "I don’t +believe it. With your shots pattering around him +he’d likely streak it for the mountains and attend +to his wounds later–only in that case there would +be more blood."</p> + +<p>Discouraged and cold, the searchers returned to +the cabin. Nailing a box cover over the window, +and barring the door again, they went to bed.</p> + +<p>The following morning dawned bright and still +in the Caņon of the Seven Spruces as the boys had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351'></a>351</span> +named their home. Tired out with the excitement +and exertion of the previous night they overslept, +and not until the sun had appeared above the +eastern peaks were they ready for a further examination +of the neighborhood of the blood spots. +They searched as they had the previous evening +and with no better results, until noon. Then the +unexpected happened!</p> + +<p>They had given up the hunt disgustedly and +were returning to the shack for dinner, when +passing to windward of the seven spruces, Leslie +chanced to pause beside the trunk of the outermost +sentinel in the group. Ross, in advance, turned +and, simultaneously, the gaze of both boys fell on +another evidence that Leslie’s gun had drawn +blood the night before. Half of each tree trunk +was covered with snow and on the white envelope +of the spruce beside which they stood appeared +four red streaks lying parallel and a couple of +inches away around the curve of the trunk a faint +red blotch. The second of the four streaks contained +the deepest stain.</p> + +<p>"I say, Ross!" cried Leslie.</p> + +<p>"Less, here you are again!" ejaculated Ross.</p> + +<p>For an instant they both stared at the tree trunk +motionless. Then Ross, with a sudden narrowing +of his eyes and upward tilt of his square chin, +strode forward, drew off his mitten and extended +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352'></a>352</span> +his arm. The marks were shoulder high. Leslie +gave an exclamation as Ross grasped the trunk, +his four fingers covering the four streaks of blood, +his thumb pressed on the fainter blotch. Then +his hand fell to his side.</p> + +<p>"A man!" gasped Leslie. His face turned +white. "Ross, did I shoot a man?"</p> + +<p>"That would account for things," said Ross +slowly. He looked back. Only a few feet intervened +between the tree and the blood on the +crust. "If you hurt his hand–and he steadied +himself here at this tree, and then ran on–perhaps +before he realized that he was hurt–and then +staunched the flow in his mittens or on his +clothes–anywhere<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"It was Sandy!" exclaimed Leslie. His voice +was weak, also his knees.</p> + +<p>"Or Weston," added Ross and scowled.</p> + +<p>"He–they were looking in the window<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" +began Leslie.</p> + +<p>"And slipped and fell against the glass," added +Ross.</p> + +<p>Only one more proof was needed to convince +them that Leslie had drawn human blood, and +that proof they found where they had not thought +to look previously–beneath the window. There, +in the loose snow blown against the side of the +shack, was the blurred impression of a snow-shoe.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353'></a>353</span>"I believe," said Ross with conviction that +night as they sat beside the fire with their door +barred and the window securely shuttered, "I +believe, Less, that it was Sandy and perhaps Waymart, +coming to see if Weston had done his duty by +us."</p> + +<p>"But where did they come from?" questioned +Leslie. "Where are we? Can they get over to +Meadow Creek and from there here? Or is there +another way of getting here?"</p> + +<p>It was months before that persistent question +was answered, months of a dull routine wherein +the boys turned with more and more zeal to their +studies. Nights now, behind their barred door +and shuttered window, they listened, not for wolves, +but for the return of their human caller, but he +did not come again. Day after day they looked +sharply for prints of snow-shoes, but looked in +vain. Gradually as the spring advanced, the +wolves and coyotes retreated until the boys no +longer carried the gun on their wood-cutting excursions.</p> + +<p>"I guess Sue will not see a wolf skin this year," +Leslie complained in March. "Even in that I +have failed."</p> + +<p>Ross, standing over the stove frying bacon, +glanced over his shoulder. "Brace up, Less," he +gibed. "There’s one thing you haven’t failed in, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354'></a>354</span> +nor I either. We’ve got outside of more anatomy +and physiology and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"That’s so," Leslie interrupted brightening. +"I’ve found out what I want to do–after I’ve made +my peace with father," soberly. "I guess he’ll +not make any objections to a doctor in the family. +It strikes me," lugubriously, "that he’ll be +pleased to find out that I want to be anything!"</p> + +<p>March gave place to April, finally; but in the +mountains April showers do not have the effect +they are popularly supposed to have elsewhere, +the showers being great downfalls of snow alternating +with thaws which threatened to turn the +entire caņon into a river and brought to their ears +daily the thunder of the snowslides. By the first +of May the tops of the tallest willows began to +appear, but the boys knew that the roots would +not be visible for six weeks yet, so long does winter +linger among the Shoshones. On the mountainside +above timber-line bowlders began to push +aside their dense white covering.</p> + +<p>But with the softening of the great body of +snow, the inhabitants of the caņon became more +closely confined than ever. It was well that the +hot sun did away with the necessity for a fire +during the day, because the boys were able to cut +and shovel their way only to the nearest trees.</p> + +<p>"Things are getting worse instead of better," +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355'></a>355</span> +said Leslie gloomily one day when May was two +weeks old.</p> + +<p>The boys sat in the doorway in the red glow of +a warm sunset. At their feet, only a few yards +away, the narrow caņon was transformed into a +river choked with ice and snow and mud flowing +sluggishly among the willows. For weeks the +boys had looked in vain for the subsidence of the +water. On the steep slope of the mountain opposite +lay a mass of wet heavy snow waiting for its +turn to come to plunge into the caņon.</p> + +<p>Ross, his eyes on this slope, gave a rueful laugh. +"Less, if only we had such a charge of dynamite +now as we set off under Soapweed Ledge we might +have a little fun across there."</p> + +<p>"Fun!" echoed Leslie miserably. "Never connect +that piece of foolishness with the word ’fun.’ +If it hadn’t been for that shot we probably would +have been in Meadow Creek Valley now hard at +work."</p> + +<p>Ross gazed gloomily up the river-like caņon. +He wondered whether the trail from Miners’ Camp +to Meadow Creek was clear yet, and whether the +McKenzies had returned to the valley; for in three +weeks Weimer’s fifth year of work on the claims +would close. He chafed with impatience at the +delay necessitated by that slowly moving stream. +With the caņon clear, the boys had determined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356'></a>356</span> +to start out and follow its windings until they +came to–Somewhere.</p> + +<p>Late one afternoon of that same week Ross sat +studying beneath the window while Leslie was out +trying to force a path to a fine spruce tree that +promised good fire-wood. The sun had long since +hidden his face behind the mountain against which +the cabin rested, but his rays turned the snow on +the peaks opposite to gold. The day had been +warm. The door stood open, and the fire was +almost out. Near the doorway, and only a few feet +from a solid bank of ice, blossomed a profusion of +forget-me-nots and yellow wild asters. The breeze +which rocked their petals was the breeze of +summer that, nevertheless, carried the tang of the +ice and snow over which it passed.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Ross, deep in his book, heard a sound, +the crunching of the pine cones and boughs with +which the ground was strewn. A moment later a +shadow moved across his book. He sprang to his +feet, the book falling to the floor, and confronted +a man in the doorway.</p> + +<p>The man was middle-aged, large, and stoop-shouldered. +His face was burned and bearded +and furrowed, but astonishment was stamped on +every feature and furrow.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he greeted Ross, as one familiar with +his surroundings greets a stranger.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357'></a>357</span>He stepped inside with that air of assurance +which proclaims ownership. His eyes left Ross, +and swept the shack.</p> + +<p>"What<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" he began, and suddenly stopped, +his gaze traveling back curiously to the boy. +"What<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" he began again, but got no further.</p> + +<p>Ross was the first one to complete a question, +and it was an eager one.</p> + +<p>"Where did you come from?"</p> + +<p>"Cody," returned the stranger, reciprocating +with "And you?"</p> + +<p>"Meadow Creek."</p> + +<p>"Meadow Creek!" in surprise. "Is the trail +open now?"</p> + +<p>Ross shook his head. "I don’t know. I came +last January."</p> + +<p>"January!" The stranger stared, and stuffed +his hands into his pockets. "Do ye mean t’ tell +me ye’ve been here sence January?"</p> + +<p>"Ever since then."</p> + +<p>Briefly but excitedly Ross told the story of his +coming.</p> + +<p>The stranger, listening, leaned back against the +door-post. Successively he removed his cap, +scratched his head, and contracted his bushy +eyebrows. When Ross finished he was grinning +in grim humor.</p> + +<p>"Young man," he began slowly, "this here is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358'></a>358</span> +Wood River caņon. Ye’re only seven miles from +Miners’ Camp. Ye could ’a’ hoofed it down t’ +Gale’s Ridge in two hours on top of any crust that +would ’a’ held ye up."</p> + +<p>Stepping to the door Ross raised a chagrined +voice, "Leslie, ho, Less! Come here!"</p> + +<p>The boy’s unexpected and welcome visitor was +Terry Brown, the owner of several adjacent coal +claims. He had gone out of the mountains the +first of December, his preparations for departure +consisting merely in closing the door of his shack. +He had expected to open it in June on the same +furnishings and provisions which he had left.</p> + +<p>"I see how it was," Brown began as the three +talked things over that evening. "That ’ere +Weston waits fer a storm a-purpose. Then he +takes ye a pretty chase around and up and among +them little peaks over at the head waters of Meadow +Creek until he gits ye so mixed up that ye don’t +know east from west. Then he slides ye over the +cliff, and lands ye in here; and you, thinkin’ +ye’re miles away from ye don’t know where, with +a heap o’ danger spots between ye and anywheres, +jest naturally sets down here and behaves yerself. +It was the only sensible thing to do," added Brown +approvingly.</p> + +<p>"But in the face of the facts it doesn’t look +sensible now!" Ross burst out.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i7'></a><img src='images/i-359.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> + +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360'></a>360</span>"No," meditatively, "but without knowin’ any +of the facts, and with no way t’ know ’em, you +acted with sense, plain hoss sense. But that ’ere +Weston, he sure done you dirt, all right."</p> + +<p>Ross’s fists doubled involuntarily. Seeing this, +Brown’s voice changed.</p> + +<p>"Better fergit it, son. Chuck the hull matter. +Ye’ve lost and they’ve won; and, if what I hear +of the McKenzies is true, it won’t do ye no good t’ +keep thinkin’ of this. And when ye git down t’ +Camp I wouldn’t tell the first man I seen about +this, nuther<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Because," Leslie broke in hotly, "they’d +laugh at us for staying here so near Camp all +winter."</p> + +<p>Brown made no reply, but a slow grin expressed +his opinion.</p> + +<p>"I say, Less," Ross broke out, "we don’t look +any bigger to ourselves than we did when we +found out what that blast under the Ledge had +done for us, do we?"</p> + +<p>But Leslie did not hear. He sat with his elbows +on his knees scowling down at the floor. "If we’re +that near Camp," he reasoned, "it was surely one +of the McKenzies that came up to see if we were +here yet that night that I fired. He chose a night, +you remember, when the snow was light and the +crust icy. No tracks left for us to follow."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361'></a>361</span>Their visitor asked for no explanation to this. +He was studying Ross’s face intently as the boy +sat leaning forward, his hands clasped around his +knees.</p> + +<p>"I say!" the older man broke out suddenly. +"Ye look almighty like a feller that rode up in +the stage from Meeteetse yisterday–almighty like +’im. They was two of ’em. They got out at +Amos Steele’s."</p> + +<p>"Where did they come from?" asked Ross +absently.</p> + +<p>"I dunno. Sheepy Luther said they was Easterners."</p> + +<p>"Sheepy Luther!" exclaimed Ross. "I know +Sheepy. His wagon set on the hill just back +of the stage camp when I was there with +Weston."</p> + +<p>"Is that so? Wall, Sheepy is down on his +luck. He’s too old t’ chase sheep, and last winter +he lost five hundred or thereabouts; so he got his +walkin’ papers. He come up yisterday. Stopped +at Steele’s t’ try t’ git a job with the Gale’s Ridge +Company. Steele may take ’im on to wrangle the +hosses, but he can’t do more’n a boy’s work. He’s +done fer; only he don’t know it."</p> + +<p>In the pause which followed Brown again +studied Ross. "This feller," he began again +suddenly, "was a bigger man than ye be; but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362'></a>362</span> +I vum, ye’re alike even t’ the way ye squint up +yer eyes and mouth, ’n’<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross came to his feet alertly, his interest at last +aroused.</p> + +<p>"His name?" he demanded eagerly.</p> + +<p>Brown shook his head. "Didn’t hear no names +except the front ones. They called each other +’Ross’ ’n’ ’Fred.’"</p> + +<p>"Uncle Fred and father!" shouted Ross excitedly. +"They came up yesterday, you say, +and stopped at Gale’s Ridge!"</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363'></a>363</span><a id='link_19'></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN UNEXPECTED VICTORY</span></h2> + +<p><span class='sc'>The</span> boy’s first feeling of joy was immediately +succeeded by a deep chagrin. Probably his father +had come on to complete the legal process for securing +a clear title to the claims, and had brought +Dr. Grant with him, and Ross must confront them +with news of failure rather than victory. He +winced when he thought of the expression of +disappointment which he felt sure would sweep +over his father’s face, especially when his father +learned that the way to failure had lain in part +through the boy’s exercise of his medical knowledge.</p> + +<p>"There’s my snow-shoes," he heard Brown saying, +and the words brought him out of his reverie +back to the present at once. "To-morrer ye better +hoof it down t’ Camp and meet up with yer relation."</p> + +<p>"That’s right, Ross," urged Leslie. "I’ll stay +here until you can bring more shoes back. In that +case," cheerfully, "you see I’ll get the better +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364'></a>364</span> +bargain because you’ll have to take the brunt<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" +he paused abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the brunt of the ridicule," added Ross +grimly. "We may as well look the thing squarely +in the face. I’m pretty hot inside, and I shall +probably boil over at sight of the McKenzies, but–they’ve made us ridiculous instead of laying +themselves open to prosecution."</p> + +<p>"Except Weston," Leslie burst out significantly. +"Wait till I get hold of father!"</p> + +<p>According to the plans laid, Ross set out the following +morning on the snow-shoes. Following +Brown’s directions, to keep to the side of the mountain, +he threaded the windings of the caņon on reluctant +feet, past the cliff whose dark face mocked +him, over the treacherous rotting ice and packed +snow, and finally emerged into the broader portion +of the caņon which contained Miners’ Camp.</p> + +<p>The cabins, deserted the previous December, were +inhabited again. The sound of the woodchopper +was in the air; and, as Ross came into Camp, a +dull reverberating boom from the heart of Dundee +told that the Mountain Company’s mining operations +were resumed.</p> + +<p>But so intent was he on the thought of meeting +his father and uncle that these sights and sounds +did not fill him with the joy he had imagined they +would give. He even failed to notice a man standing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365'></a>365</span> +in the doorway of a shack, scanning Crosby, +on whose steep face the snow still hung in loosening +masses.</p> + +<p>Toward the shack came Bill Travers, the stage-driver +between Meeteetse and Miners’ Camp.</p> + +<p>"Wall, beat me," cried the man in the doorway, +"if here ain’t Doc!"</p> + +<p>Ross flashed around and faced Sandy McKenzie.</p> + +<p>Sandy’s hands were rammed into his pockets; +but his sun-burned face was smiling an unruffled +welcome, and his voice rang pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"How," Sandy inquired, "did ye get over here +from Medder Creek?"</p> + +<p>Ross instantly "boiled over" as he had feared he +should, and said the very thing he had not intended +to say. "You know how I got here! You +know where I came from!"</p> + +<p>The stage-driver, joined by a second man, came +nearer and paused. Sandy pushed his hands yet +deeper into his pockets, and looked amazingly innocent.</p> + +<p>"Me!" he drawled. "What d’ye mean?"</p> + +<p>At the insolent tone Ross’s blood boiled. It +hummed through his ears, deafening him to the +sound of his own voice. What he said he never +could recall beyond the general knowledge that he +accused Sandy of the theft of the dynamite and of +his own and Leslie’s abduction across the mountains.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366'></a>366</span>And, when he paused to catch his breath and +steady his voice, Sandy was looking him over with +an amused grin which maddened him.</p> + +<p>"Now, ain’t that a likely story?" he inquired. +"Kept ye a prisoner fer six months not five miles +from Camp on a trail that can be follered at any +time in the year! Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>Bill Travers grinned faintly. The other man +turned away with the corners of his mouth twitching, +while Sandy went on:</p> + +<p>"And as fer Weston, he went to Missoury the +day after we left Medder Creek, and there he is +now fer all I’ve heard." Again Sandy’s laugh +rang out as he added: "That story won’t hold +water. Why didn’t ye make up a<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Here Waymart appeared in the doorway of the +shack. He scowled at Ross, but his peremptory +words were aimed at Sandy:</p> + +<p>"See here! If we’re goin’ t’ send that bundle +down by Grasshopper we’ve got t’ make lively +tracks in here, and ye ought t’ know it!"</p> + +<p>"Keep yer hair on tight, Mart," laughed Sandy.</p> + +<p>He turned, nevertheless, toward the door. As +he did so, he mechanically withdrew his hands +from his pockets and Ross saw something which +at once arrested his attention. The middle finger +of Sandy’s right hand was gone! In a flash, memory +showed Ross the four blood streaks on the +trunk of the spruce with the second streak the +deepest in color.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i8'></a><img src='images/i-366.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +YOU’VE PAID FOR IT. +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367'></a>367</span>With his anger still burning he snatched off his +glove and held up his right hand triumphantly, +the middle finger projecting. "Well, anyway," +he cried, "Leslie ain’t a bad shot. We may never +prove that you put us in that hole, but you’ve +paid for it, nevertheless!"</p> + +<p>Sandy involuntarily doubled his right hand into +a fist. He caught his under lip between his teeth +and sent Ross a black look as, wordlessly, he entered +the shack and slammed the door behind him, +leaving Ross to tell the story of Leslie’s shot to two +interested and excited men.</p> + +<p>"That accounts fer it," confirmed Bill Travers. +"Sandy and Waymart they come up from Cody +along in February and when they clumb int’ th’ +stage goin’ back, Sandy’s hand was tied up. Next +thing I knowed when they come up with me +t’ other day, that finger was off clean to the hand, +but Sandy hain’t never spoken of it."</p> + +<p>Ross, leaving Bill to talk the matter over with +his companions, went on rapidly now down the +caņon, his eyes narrowed and his chin protruding +doggedly. One disagreeable scene was ended, and +he was, perhaps, facing another.</p> + +<p>"I ought to be sorry that Sandy lost a finger +but–hanged if I am!" he burst out loud. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368'></a>368</span> +was anxious to have Leslie know the result of his +random shot.</p> + +<p>Rounding a shoulder of Gale’s Ridge, he came +in sight of Steele’s shack. Steele sat in the doorway. +Beside him, leaning against the logs of the +shack’s side, was a man in shirt-sleeves and cap, +beneath which a rim of woolly gray hair projected.</p> + +<p>Facing Steele were two well dressed men, one in +a tall silk hat, which appeared incongruous against +its background of log shack and pine tree. +Ross, with narrowed eyes and compressed lips, +plodded on.</p> + +<p>"I’ve done my best," he muttered defensively. +"It’s all a fellow can do; but, when that best is +failure, why, it’s not much consolation."</p> + +<p>Then he raised his head, squared his shoulders, +and doggedly faced the four in front of Steele’s +cabin.</p> + +<p>Ross Grant, Senior, had not come West to look +after his claims, but after his son, with whom he +felt he had but just begun an acquaintance. He +had no difficulty in getting Dr. Grant to accompany +him, reënforced as he was by an anxious +Aunt Anne. It was true that both Ross and Steele +had written that all communications with the +former would be shut off for months. But, when +the hot days of June came and brought no letter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369'></a>369</span> +from the boy, as Aunt Anne said, "something must +be done."</p> + +<p>That something was represented in the persons +of the Grant brothers in Miners’ Camp.</p> + +<p>After the first greetings, tinged with amazement +on the part of the four, Ross backed up against a +spruce, and, facing the others, proceeded to answer +the questions with which they bombarded him.</p> + +<p>In half an hour they were in possession of the +main facts in his life during the last six months.</p> + +<p>"The McKenzies all through," commented +Steele finally; "but–prove it!"</p> + +<p>"I’ve got to prove it!" declared Ross violently; +"I shall!"</p> + +<p>"Ross,"–Dr. Grant’s comment carried with it +the pride and honor of his profession,–"if you’re +called upon to attend the sick, you must go. +That’s the duty of a physician, even before he receives +his diploma. You did right."</p> + +<p>"I felt that way myself, uncle," returned Ross +quietly. "As soon as Weimer opened the way, I +never thought of not going, so long as there was no +regular doctor within reach."</p> + +<p>Ross Grant, Senior, looked his son over. There +was no expression of disapproval on his face as he +took the measure of this full-blooded, broad-shouldered, +erect young man whose muscles had been +hardened by wind and sun and work in the open.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370'></a>370</span>Having completed his survey, Ross, Senior, +smiled. "Well, my boy," he remarked characteristically, +"it took three good sized men to down +you two boys, didn’t it? And it must have cost +them a heap of thinking into the bargain. Shake, +Ross; I’m proud of you!"</p> + +<p>And Ross, bewildered, shook hands with his +father, his cheeks reddening with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I–I never thought of it in that way before," +he stammered. "But–that doesn’t save the +claims, and the fifth year is up next week, and +Uncle Jake<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>"Don’t you worry about Uncle Jake," interrupted +his father meaningly. "We may lose the +claims, but Uncle Jake will be provided for."</p> + +<p>"The first thing to do," interpolated Steele, "is +to root him out of Meadow Creek Valley. I’ve +never known the snow to hang so late to the side +of Crosby."</p> + +<p>That very night it ceased to "hang." At midnight +every one in the shack was awakened. +There was a cracking of trees, a long steady rush, +and then a mighty and prolonged roar as the +snow, under the influence of a swift warm wind, +swept down the side of old Crosby, and took the +thousand-feet plunge into the ravine at the foot of +the falls. The roar echoed against the sides of +Dundee and Spar and Sniffle, starting other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371'></a>371</span> +though lesser slides until the caņon was filled with +the confusion of sound.</p> + +<p>The following morning, Steele, after investigation, +found the trail around the shoulder of +Crosby swept clean, and at once proposed that +they follow it to Meadow Creek. Ross objected +to starting until Leslie reached them. Steele had +sent Society Bill up the caņon the previous evening +with snow-shoes for the boy. But neither +Society Bill nor Leslie had appeared. Ross’s objections +were, therefore, overruled by the older +men.</p> + +<p>"Leave word in the upper camp for him to +follow us when he comes," Steele suggested, "and +we’ll start right away. We shall have to foot it, +too, for no horse can make it yet."</p> + +<p>The sheep-herder, who had shared Steele’s hospitality +over night, shouldered his blankets, observing +that he was going over with them to see his +friend Weimer, and find out what was "doin’ on +the Creek."</p> + +<p>There were others of the same mind also, as the +party from Steele’s shack found when they reached +the foot of Crosby. Just ahead of them, so engrossed +in their climbing that they did not look +back, were Sandy and Waymart.</p> + +<p>Slowly, to accommodate the older Grants, the +party moved up the trail, slippery with mud +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372'></a>372</span> +and snow, their way obstructed by rocks and +tree trunks.</p> + +<p>Sandy and Waymart, ahead, were obliged to +move slowly also; for to their lot fell the removal +of any obstacles too large to surmount, +and the snow and landslide of the previous night +had left many such. Around the shoulder, however, +the trail was intact, the mountain being so +steep at this point that the slide had leaped clear +of the trail and projected itself headlong into the +gorge below.</p> + +<p>An hour later Ross called back to his father +and uncle, who were puffing along, breathless +and tired and dizzy: "We’ll be in sight of the +dump in ten minutes. It’s just around the spur +of the mountain there."</p> + +<p>Then, unable to restrain his impatience and +anxiety longer, he ran on ahead of Steele, keeping +a short distance between himself and the +McKenzies. The McKenzies, however, seemed +no more anxious to enjoy his society than he +did to enjoy theirs. Sandy, for once, omitted +his usual pleasantries, an omission easy to account +for whenever Ross thought of the missing +middle finger of his right hand.</p> + +<p>Hearing footsteps behind him, Ross glanced +around. Steele had left the others, and was +following on a run. The McKenzies pushed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373'></a>373</span> +on without looking back, and neither Steele nor +Ross spoke.</p> + +<p>In silence, then, the four approached the spur. +But before they reached the dump that silence +was most unexpectedly broken. Out of the open +mouth of the tunnel rolled a volume of sound, +then another and another.</p> + +<p>Ross in his surprise, his head thrown back as he +scanned the dump, nearly fell over a mass of newly +mined ore which blocked the main trail.</p> + +<p>Then he caught a glimpse of Weimer shielding +his eyes from the sun with both hands, waiting for +the effects of the explosions in the tunnel to subside. +And, leaning against the tool house, his +hands in his pockets, his head bent forward, was +another man, the sight of whom caused a great +illumination in Ross’s mind.</p> + +<p>"Weston!" he shouted. "Weston!"</p> + +<p>The two men on the dump came to the edge, +and looked over. The McKenzies on the trail +ahead halted. The Grants with the sheep-herder +drew nearer.</p> + +<p>Weimer, squinting, recognized Ross. He took +off his cap, and waved it as wildly as a boy.</p> + +<p>"The vork," he yelled, "ist done! It ist done +dese two veeks. Me und Miller here, ve ist vorkin’ +now joost for de fun!"</p> + +<p>Weston gave one glance at Sandy and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374'></a>374</span> +Waymart, and without speaking went back to the +tunnel.</p> + +<p>Ross was after him with a bound, scrambling up +over the dump, followed by the others, who were +infected by his excitement. He ran to Weston +with both hands outstretched.</p> + +<p>"Weston," he shouted, "you did this!"</p> + +<p>"Veston!" exclaimed Uncle Jake. "Dot ist +Miller. He has been mit me all der spring."</p> + +<p>"I told him," muttered Weston, extending his +hand to Ross, but turning away shamefacedly, +"that you two boys had taken my place with my +sick pard, while I was to stay by him."</p> + +<p>Ross pumped the big hand up and down.</p> + +<p>"Father," he cried excitedly, "he has saved our +claims."</p> + +<p>Weston tried to liberate his hand. He stole a +glance at Sandy and Waymart, who had stopped +just beyond the dump.</p> + +<p>"Doc here"–he spoke to the group who surrounded +him–"saved me first. I had that little +business to pay for, but"–his tone sank to a +mutter–"I thought I could pay it and git away +to Missoury before Sandy found out what I was +up to here<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by Sandy’s voice from the +trail, and the voice was harsh and vengeful. +"Better come over to our shack, Lon. I want a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375'></a>375</span> +little talk with ye about old man Quinn. He’s +wantin’ t’ see ye powerful bad."</p> + +<p>At the name the sheep-herder, who had been +standing stupidly staring at Weston, woke up.</p> + +<p>"Old man Quinn," he began. "A feller in Cody +told me<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" but no one was paying any attention +to him.</p> + +<p>Sandy and Waymart moved on slowly toward +their cabin, talking and gesticulating excitedly, +evidently in disagreement.</p> + +<p>For the present no one undeceived Weimer in +regard to Miller.</p> + +<p>"He come pack in all dot storm," Weimer exulted, +"und mit me vas."</p> + +<p>Weston looked away, but Steele cried, "Good +work, man," clapping him warmly on the shoulder. +Then he added boyishly: "I’m hungry as a bear! +Got any grub left?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Weston quietly, "plenty. +Come on down all of you, and I’ll rustle some +flapjacks and coffee."</p> + +<p>They started down the trail, Weston and Ross +in advance. At the mention of "old man Quinn" +Ross’s elation had subsided. He looked at Weston +out of the corner of his eye. The other’s eyes +were downcast and his face pale beneath its sunburn. +His hair was of a peculiar color, light at +the roots and dark at the ends. He had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_376'></a>376</span> +evidently forgotten to bring his hair dye to Meadow +Creek.</p> + +<p>The older man spoke first. His voice was low +and his words halting. "I had to take you across +the mountain and leave you there," he explained +briefly. "Sandy was behind the cabin when we +got there. I couldn’t fool ’im about you, but I +did about myself; and, if you all had put off +comin’ over a day longer, I could have got away +out of Sandy’s reach."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Weston’s hand involuntarily crept +up to his breast pocket. It fell again, however, as +he added in a mutter as though to himself: "And +Less–I had to take ’im over too–for my own good. +But it’s all up now and I’ve got to face it out."</p> + +<p>Just behind them came the sheep-herder, his +thoughts reverting to a subject on which he had +tried once to speak. Now he saw an opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Ye must ’a’ known of old man Quinn then," +he called to Weston. "Didn’t ye?"</p> + +<p>Weston stumbled. He caught himself, but the +movement saved him from the necessity of an +answer.</p> + +<p>"Wall," the sheep-herder went on, almost running +in order to keep up with the pace Weston +had set, "I met Happy in Cody t’ other day, +and Happy said old man Quinn had pinched the +fourth puncher that druv his sheep<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_377'></a>377</span>"What?" shouted Weston. He swung around +so suddenly that the sheep-herder ran full tilt +against him.</p> + +<p>"What?" Weston shouted again. He seized +the amazed and terrified Sheepy, and held him by +the arms in a vise that made the man wince. +"Say that again."</p> + +<p>"S-say what?" faltered Sheepy.</p> + +<p>"What about the fourth? Tell me!"</p> + +<p>With every word Weston, his eyes ablaze, his +lips drawn back over strong white teeth, gave the +old sheep-herder a convulsive shake.</p> + +<p>"W-why," the old man quavered, "Happy, +he said that a feller down in Oklahomy, name of +Burns, went and give himself up to old man +Quinn. He said he was the feller the old man +was after–that he was the fourth who done the +business with the sheep. But because he owned +up the jedge give ’im only six months<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Weston suddenly pushed the sheep-herder from +him, his face working convulsively. "Then I +wasn’t in it!" he cried. "Sandy said I was, but +I wasn’t!"</p> + +<p>Offering no further explanation to his astonished +hearers, he turned toward the McKenzie shack on +a run; and for a couple of hours they saw no more +of him.</p> + +<p>It was a busy time for Ross, who promptly took +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_378'></a>378</span> +Weston’s place "rustling grub." But, as he +worked, his thoughts wonderingly circled around +Weston’s strange actions. The fourth man was +found and it was not Weston–yet Weston, it would +appear, had believed himself to be the guilty +party! It was too deep a puzzle for Ross. As +the boy worked he kept a watchful eye on the +trail for Leslie. Surely the latter would come +down to Camp that morning and receive the word +Ross had left him at the post-office.</p> + +<p>Steele, who had stayed behind long enough to +examine the tunnel, confirmed Weimer’s statement +that more than enough work had been done to +cover the requirements of the law. Weimer, jubilant, +sat and talked to his old-time "pard," whose +voice answered him, but whose satisfied gaze +followed Ross.</p> + +<p>But it was to the man who had stood in the +place of a father to him that Ross’s eyes turned +most frequently. Dr. Grant sat, appropriately, +on the emergency chest, looking affectionately at +his energetic nephew.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Ross picked up a tin cup full of water +from the table, and held it out at arm’s length +toward his uncle.</p> + +<p>Dr. Grant smiled. "All right, Ross," he said +quietly.</p> + +<p>Ross, Senior, looked from one to the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_379'></a>379</span> +inquiringly. Ross, Junior, answered; but he turned +his back on his father, and spoke hesitatingly. +"I was showing uncle, father, that my hand is +still steady enough to be the hand of a first +class–surgeon."</p> + +<p>Promptly and heartily came the unexpected +response from the elder Grant. "I’m glad of that, +Ross, for I shall look to see you as successful in +your profession as you have been in my business," +and he turned at once to Weimer, and went on +speaking.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," he was saying, "as long as you want +to stay here, you get your friend"–he indicated +the sheep-herder–"to come and live with you. +I’m going to buy out Ross’s interest in the shares, +and I’ll look to you to keep ’em in good shape–you +and your friend–until we get a chance to sell +well. Of course," he added carelessly, "I’ll grub-stake +you and more, both of you."</p> + +<p>Sheepy’s eyes lighted, and Weimer grinned and +slapped his knee. They were the only signs +necessary to complete the bargain.</p> + +<p>After dinner, as Ross arose from the table, he +saw Leslie hurrying down the trail. Ross went to +meet him.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Ross!" Leslie called in a voice which +he tried to make matter-of-fact, but which bubbled +over with jubilation. "I stopped in at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_380'></a>380</span> +post-office and got your word and a letter from dad. +It’s only a month old! He thinks we’re mewed +up over here, you know, working your claims. +And he says he and Sue want me to come home +as soon as I get this letter. He says if I’m willing +to work he’ll give me better wages than I can get +anywhere else! He doesn’t know yet," here Leslie +grinned broadly, "that I want to do now the very +thing he has fought all my life to make me do–go +to school. That doctor business has sort of +sunk in. But say, Ross, here’s a thing that +bothers me." Leslie pulled the letter from his +pocket and read:</p> + +<p>"’A few days ago I got hold of the fourth man +that ran my sheep off into the river two years ago. +The fellow came and gave himself up to me.’"</p> + +<p>The reader looked up tentatively. "Ross, if it +was Weston dad would have said<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>"</p> + +<p>Ross’s hand descended on the other’s shoulder +in a mighty whack as he shouted: "It isn’t Weston. +Now you listen and give me an inning on +the talk!"</p> + +<p>For half an hour they stood outside the shack +while Ross got his inning–Sandy’s hand, the +work, Weston’s strange actions were all reviewed +hurriedly and listened to excitedly. Then, seeing +Weston approaching, the boys went inside.</p> + +<p>Weston crossed the valley slowly, looking down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_381'></a>381</span> +at something which he held in the palm of his +hand, something in a small gilt frame that he +slipped into his breast pocket when he entered the +shack.</p> + +<p>Completely absorbed in his own thoughts–cheerful +thoughts too, apparently–he went directly +to his bunk, and began gathering his few possessions +together not noticing that the group had been +augmented by Leslie.</p> + +<p>"I guess," he explained abstractedly, "that I’ll +go on at once–I’m going to Oklahoma and not +Missouri." Then he looked over his shoulder at +the sheep-herder, adding abstractedly: "Waymart +says I ain’t the fourth, and never was. He’s +been makin’ up his mind to tell me this good +while."</p> + +<p>The blank expression on the sheep-herder’s face +brought Weston back to a sense of his surroundings.</p> + +<p>"I forgot," he muttered turning to Ross, who +stood beside the bunk, "that you may not know +about this Quinn business."</p> + +<p>Leslie stepped forward quickly, but paused as he +saw Weston was oblivious of his presence.</p> + +<p>"I know a good deal about it," exclaimed Ross +impulsively, "and I wish I knew the rest–your +part of it."</p> + +<p>Weston leaned against the bunk, his back toward +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_382'></a>382</span> +the silent room, his eyes downcast. He made the +explanation with visible reluctance.</p> + +<p>"You see, Doc, I used to drink; and when I +had two or three glasses down, I’d go out of my +head; and when I had come to myself again I +wouldn’t know a blooming thing that had happened +while I was drunk. But all the time I could +ride straight and talk straight and shoot straight."</p> + +<p>He paused to moisten his lips. Leslie came a +step nearer.</p> + +<p>"Well," Weston continued, "to make a long +story short, I was foreman on a cattle ranch in +Oklahoma two years ago. Sandy and Mart came +around wanting a job, and I gave ’em one on the +same ranch. Then came the big round-up at +North Fork–and there was trouble between the +sheep and cattle men."</p> + +<p>Weston hesitated and looked down. He raised +his hand to his breast pocket and let it fall at his +side.</p> + +<p>"The night the round-up ended most of us–got drunk."</p> + +<p>He paused, shook himself impatiently, and hurried +on: "I didn’t go with the rest intending to +drink–but I did, what with treating and all that. +And when I come to myself, Sandy told me I was +one of the men who had done the job on the Quinn +sheep. And, knowing what I am when drunk, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_383'></a>383</span> +believed him and cleared out with him and Mart +over the Texas line, and<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>" his hand traveled +to his hair completing the sentence.</p> + +<p>"I see!" exclaimed Ross excitedly; "and since +then Sandy has held that over you."</p> + +<p>Weston nodded. "I was sick of drink, but I +got sick of it too late, you see. I’d put a lasso +round my own neck just when I most wanted to +be free."</p> + +<p>His hand again wandered toward his breast +pocket.</p> + +<p>"But now," he added, "I am free."</p> + +<p>He lifted his head proudly and turning, was +aware for the first time of Leslie’s presence. As +the hands of the two met Ross strode across the +room and began speaking loudly and at random to +the others, leaving Sue’s lover and Sue’s brother to +talk alone.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, unable to restrain the question +longer, Ross turned again on Weston.</p> + +<p>"Sandy stole our sticks, didn’t he?" he demanded, +"and planned the whole thing to get rid +of me?"</p> + +<p>Weston turned slowly back to his bunk. For a +moment he fumbled among the blankets in silence. +Then he faced about again resolutely.</p> + +<p>"Say, Doc, you have your claims here secure, +haven’t you, and Sandy has lost ’em?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_384'></a>384</span>"Yes, thanks to you."</p> + +<p>"And you’ve got outside of enough of those +books so you can go to college next year, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, again thanks to you!"</p> + +<p>"And," here Weston glanced at Leslie, "Sandy +has dropped a finger somewhere in the game."</p> + +<p>Leslie could not restrain a look of exultation. +"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, let this thing drop, will you? +Sandy hain’t all to the bad. He’s pulled me out +of as many holes as he’s chucked me into; and I–well, +I–say, Doc, call it square, will you?"</p> + +<p>Ross glanced from his father to his uncle and +then at Steele. A glance satisfied him. Stepping +forward, he extended his hand.</p> + +<p>"It’s square, Weston, and I’ll let everything go +except–I can’t forget that you’ve pulled me out +of a pretty big hole–the worst one I ever dropped +into."</p> + +<p class='c fs08 mt40'>The Books of this Series are:<br />ROSS GRANT, TENDERFOOT<br />ROSS GRANT, GOLD HUNTER</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ross Grant Tenderfoot, by John Garland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSS GRANT TENDERFOOT *** + +***** This file should be named 34296-h.htm or 34296-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/9/34296/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-059.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-059.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72d6f4d --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-059.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-072.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-072.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a6933f --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-072.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-134.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-134.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a86fdf0 --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-134.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-202.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-202.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1079bbf --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-202.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-308.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-308.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee4dfc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-308.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-359.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-359.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8b54c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-359.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-366.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-366.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b197cba --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-366.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-em2.png b/34296-h/images/i-em2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3508279 --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-em2.png diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-fpc.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-fpc.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f8cdb5 --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-fpc.jpg diff --git a/34296-h/images/i-tpg.jpg b/34296-h/images/i-tpg.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..705adaa --- /dev/null +++ b/34296-h/images/i-tpg.jpg |
