Gold Part 36

Next morning we asked the Morenas who was Danny Randall.

"_El diabolo_," replied Morena shortly; and trudged obstinately away to his work without vouchsafing further information.

"Which is interesting, but indefinite," said Johnny.

We found Yank easier in body, and embarked on the sea of patience in which he was to float becalmed until his time was up. In reply to his inquiries as to our plans, we told him we were resting a few days, which was the truth. Then we went up to town and made two purchases; a small tent, and a derringer pistol. They cost us three hundred and fifty dollars. It was the quiet time of day; the miners had gone to work, and most of the gentlemen of leisure were not yet about. Nevertheless a dozen or so sat against the walls, smoking paper cigarettos. They all looked at us curiously; and several nodded at Johnny in a brief, tentative sort of fashion.

The rest of the day, and of several days following, we spent in putting up our tent, ditching it, arranging our cooking affairs, building rough seats, and generally making ourselves comfortable. We stretched these things to cover as long a s.p.a.ce of time as possible, for we secretly dreaded facing the resumption of the old grind, and postponed it as long as we could. A good deal of the time we spent at Yank's bedside, generally sitting silent and constrained, to the mutual discomfort of all three of us, I am sure. At odd intervals we practised conscientiously and solemnly at the "draw." We would stand facing each other, the nipples of our revolvers uncapped, and would, at the given word, see who could cover the other first. We took turns at giving the word. At first we were not far apart; but Johnny quickly pa.s.sed me in skill. I am always somewhat clumsy, but my friend was naturally quick and keen at all games of skill or dexterity. He was the sort of man who could bowl, or play pool, or billiards, or anything else rather better than the average accustomed player the first time he tried. He turned card tricks deftly. At the end of our three days' loafing he caught me at the end of his pistol so regularly that there ceased to be any contest in it. I never did get the sleeve trick; but then, I never succeeded in fooling the merest infant with any of my attempts at legerdemain. Johnny could flip that little derringer out with a twist of his supple wrist as neatly as a snake darts its forked tongue. For ten minutes at a time he practised it, over and over, as regularly as well-oiled machinery.

"But that proves nothing as to how it would work out in real action,"

said Johnny thoughtfully.

The afternoon of the third day, while we were resting from the heat beneath the shade of our tree, we were approached by three men.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE BIG MAN WHIRLED TO THE FLOOR"]

"Howdy, boys," said the first. "We hain't seen you around camp lately, and thought mebbe you'd flew."

"We are still here," replied Johnny with smooth politeness. "As you see, we have been fixing our quarters to stay here."

"Scar-face Charley is here, too," observed the spokesman, "and he wanted me to tell you that he is going to be at the Bella Union at eight this evenin', and he wants to know, will he see you? and to come heeled."

"Thank you, gentlemen," replied Johnny quietly. "If by accident you should happen to see the desperado in question--who, I a.s.sume, can be in no way your friend--I hope you will tell him that I, too, will be at the Bella Union at eight o'clock, and that I will come heeled."

"You'll be comin' alone?" said the man, "or p'rhaps yore friend----"

"My friend, as you call him, is simply a miner, and has nothing to do with this," interrupted Johnny emphatically.

"I thank you, sir," said the spokesman, rising.

The other two, who had throughout said no word, followed his example.

"Do you know Danny Randall?" asked Johnny as they moved off.

If he had presented his derringer under their noses, they could not have stopped more suddenly. They stared at each other a moment.

"Is he a friend of yours?" inquired the spokesman after an uncertain moment.

"He likes fair play," said Johnny enigmatically.

The trio moved off in the direction of town.

"We don't know any more about Danny Randall than we did," observed Johnny, "but I tried a shot in the dark."

"Nevertheless," I told him, "I'm going to be there; and you want to make up your mind to just that."

"You will come, of course," agreed Johnny. "I suppose I cannot keep you from that. But Jim," he commanded earnestly, "you must swear to keep out of the row, unless it develops into a general one; and you must swear not to speak to me or make any sign no matter what happens. I must play a lone hand."

He was firm on this point; and in the end I gave my promise, to his evident relief.

"This is our visitors' day, evidently," he observed. "Here come two more men. One of them is the doctor; I'd know that hat two miles."

"The other is our friend Danny Randall," said I.

Dr. Rankin greeted us with a cordiality I had not suspected in him.

Randall nodded in his usual diffident fashion, and slid into the oak shadow, where he squatted on his heels.

"About this Scar-face Charley," he said abruptly, "I hear he's issued his defi, and you've taken him up. Do you know anything about this sort of thing?"

"Not a bit," admitted Johnny frankly. "Is it a duel; and are you gentleman here to act as my seconds?"

"It is not," stated the downright doctor. "It's a barroom murder and you cannot get around it; and I, for one, don't try. But now you're in for it, and you've got to go through with it."

"I intend to," said Johnny.

"It's not precisely that," objected Danny Randall, "for, d'ye see, he's sent you warning."

"It's about all the warning you'll get!" snorted the doctor.

"There's a sort of rule about it," persisted Randall. "And that's what I'm here to tell you. He'll try to come up on you suddenly, probably from behind; and he'll say 'draw and defend yourself,' and shoot you as soon after that as he can. You want to see him first, that's all."

"Thanks," said Johnny.

"And," exploded the doctor, "if you don't kill that fellow, by the Eternal, when you get a chance----"

"You'll give him a pill, Doctor," interrupted Randall, with a little chuckle. "But look here," he said to Johnny, "after all, this sort of a mess isn't required of you. You say the word and I'll take on this Scar-face Charley and run him out of town. He's a good deal of a pest."

"Thank you," said Johnny stiffly; "I intend to paddle my own canoe."

Randall nodded.

"I don't know as we can help you any more," said he. "I just thought you ought to be on to the way it's done."

"I'm obliged to you," said Johnny warmly. "The only doubt in my mind was when I was privileged to open."

"I'd pot him through the window with a shotgun first chance I got,"

stated the doctor; "that sort of a ruffian is just like a mad dog."

"Of course you would, Doctor," said Randall with just the faintest suspicion of sarcasm in his voice. "Well, I guess we'll be toddling."

But I wanted some information, and I meant to have it.

"Who is this Scar-face Charley," I asked.

"Got me," replied Randall; "you fellows seemed to recognize him. Only he's one of the gang, undoubtedly."

"The gang?"

"Oh, the general run of hangers-on. n.o.body knows how they live, but every one suspects. Some of them work, but not many. There are a heap of disappearances that no one knows anything about; and every once in a while a man is found drowned and floating; _floating_ mind you!"