The Desert Fiddler Part 23

He took a bill book from his hip pocket, and removed some papers.

"I was coming over to see you this morning. Been called away. Trouble in our Texas oil field. Main gusher stopped. May be a pauper instead of a millionaire. Would have got out of this d.a.m.ned heat before now if I hadn't wanted to keep an eye on Jenkins.

"Now I'm going to turn these bills over to you for collection. Get $215,000 with 10 per cent. interest, and half his cotton seed."

Bob's eyes were straight ahead on the road as he drove back to Calexico; his hands held the wheel with a steady grip, but his mind was neither on the road nor on the machine.

"Well," he smiled to himself, grimly, "at any rate, I'm acc.u.mulating a good deal of business to transact with Reedy Jenkins. I suppose first move is a personal interview with him."

Bob stopped the machine in the side street and went up the outside stairway of the red brick building, with purpose in his steps. But the door of the office was closed, a notice tacked on it. Bob stepped forward and read it eagerly:

"Mr. Jenkins' office is temporarily removed to the main building of the Mexican Cotton Ginning Co."

"And so," said Bob as he went down the stairs, "Reedy has moved across the line." That was puzzling, and not at all rea.s.suring.

Rogeen did not go to the cotton gin to see Reedy. He wanted first to find out what the move meant. For two days he was on the road eighteen hours a day, most of the time on the Mexican side, gathering up the threads of Jenkins' plot. The other ranchers by this time had all received their notices, and there was murder in some of their eyes.

But most of them were Americans, the rest Chinamen, and neither wanted any trouble on that side.

"Jenkins has a stand-in, d.a.m.n him," said Black Ben, one of the ranchers. "I'd like to plug him, but I don't want to get into a Mexican jail."

The second evening he met Noah Ezekiel at the entrance of the Red Owl.

Bob had instructed Noah and Lou Wing to continue the work in the cotton fields exactly as though nothing impended.

"I was just lookin' for you," said Noah a little sheepishly.

"All right," responded Bob. "You've found me. What is on your mind?"

"Let us go a little apart from these sons of Belial," said Noah, sauntering past the Owl into the shadows.

"I picked up a fellow down by the Red b.u.t.te today," began Noah, "that had been on one of these here walkin' tours--the kind you take when your money gives out. After he'd stuffed himself with pottage and Chinese greens, and fried bacon, and a few other things round the camp, he got right talkative. He says they've broke a good road through the sand straight from Red b.u.t.te to the head of the Gulf of California.

And that there is a little ship down there from Guaymas lying round waiting for something to happen."

"Noah"--Bob gripped Ezekiel's arm--"I've been working on that very theory. Your news clinches it. Reedy is never going to take that cotton across the American line. He is planning to shoot it down across that eighty-five miles of desert to the Gulf on motor trucks, ship it to Guaymas, and sell it there to an exporter. He is not even going to pay poor old Ah Sing for picking it; and as a final get-away stake he is trying to hold us up for $150,000 on the water. He has moved across the line for safety, and never intends to move back."

"He won't need to," said Noah Ezekiel. "He is due to get away with about half a million. But what do we care?" Noah shook his head solemnly. "As my dad used to say, 'Virtue is its own reward.' That ought to comfort you, Brother Rogeen, when you are working out that $78,000 of debts at forty dollars a month."

CHAPTER XXV

Early next morning Bob went to the executive offices, and waited two hours for the arrival of the governor. Rogeen knew of course that Madrigal, the Mexican Jew, was engineering the Mexican end of the conspiracy; but he wanted to discover who the Mexican official was from whom they were securing protection.

Bob stated his business briefly, forcibly. He was one of the ranchers who got water from the Dillenbeck ca.n.a.l. The company was endeavouring to rob them. The ranchers wanted protection, and wanted water at once.

The official was very courteous, solicitous, sympathetic. He would look into it immediately. Would Senor Rogeen call again tomorrow?

Senor Rogeen would most certainly call again tomorrow. When he left the office he went direct to Ah Sing's ranch.

"Ah Sing," said Bob, "I want you to turn over to me your $80,000 claim against Reedy Jenkins for picking his eight thousand bales of cotton, and give me power of attorney to collect it."

"Allee light, I give him."

The next morning when the Mexican official came down to the office at ten o'clock he a.s.sured Bob most regretfully that although impetuous and violent efforts had been made to right his wrongs, unfortunately so far they had found no law governing the case. The Dillenbeck Company was a private water company, owned by American citizens; the Mexican officials had no power to fix the rate.

Bob went direct to the Mexican cotton gin.

"Jenkins"--Bob sat down on the edge of the offered chair, his feet on the floor, his knees bent as though ready to spring up--"I need to begin watering the Red b.u.t.te to-day, but your man tells me he has orders to keep the gates shut."

Reedy nodded, his plump lips shut tight, an amused leer in the tail of his eye. "You got my notice, didn't you? No cash, no water. Either ten dollars an acre spot cash or no spot cotton."

"Jenkins"--Bob's fingers were clutching his own knees as though holding themselves off the rascal's throat--"that is the dirtiest steal I ever knew."

"That is not near what the water is really worth to you," said Reedy, nonchalantly. "It is only about 20 per cent. of what your crop will make--if it does not burn up."

The knots in Bob's arms flattened out, and his tone took on casualness again.

"Jenkins, I've got a couple of little bills against you that I'm authorized to collect. One on the American side is a trifle of $215,000 which you owe Mr. Crill; the other on this side is for $80,000 that you owe Ah Sing. Do you wish to take care of them now? Or shall I attach your cotton?"

Reedy's pink face and wide mouth took on a grin that fairly oozed amus.e.m.e.nt. "Attach my cotton, by all means."

Bob got up, hesitated a second, sat down again, and took out his check book. As his pen scratched for a moment, the grin on Reedy's face changed to one of victorious greed. Rogeen tore out the check and handed it to Reedy.

"There is $1,600. Turn water on the Chandler ranch. As for mine, you can be d.a.m.ned."

Reedy toyed idly with the check a moment, slowly tore it up, and threw it in the wastebasket.

"I'm sorry, but I can't get water to the Chandler ranch without the rest order it, too. Perhaps"--he again took on a leer--"if Miss Chandler should come in and see me personally, something might be arranged."

"Jenkins"--the coolest, most concentrated anger of his life was in Bob's tone--"I know your whole plot. You can't get away with it. You may ruin my cotton, probably will, but I'm going to smash you and sell the pieces to pay your debts."

Reedy got to his feet, and flushed hotly. The threat had gone home.

"There are six hundred Mexican soldiers and policemen that will answer my call. You won't make a move they don't see.

"Don't bank on any threat about the United States Government. Mexicans have been picking off Americans whenever they got ready for the last three years; and nothing ever happens. They aren't one bit scared of the American Government.

"Don't fool yourself, Rogeen; you are outcla.s.sed this time. I know what I'm doing, and I'm going to do it. If you don't want to rot in a Mexican jail or bleach on the sands somewhere, you'll walk softly and stay on the other side."

CHAPTER XXVI

When Bob left the Mexican cotton gin after the interview with Reedy Jenkins he had the feeling of furious futility which many a brave man has felt under similar circ.u.mstances. Yonder, two hundred yards away, he could see American soldiers patrolling the border; yet so little influence and so little fear did that big benign government wield over here that he knew that scoundrel and his villainous Mexican confederates could ruin his fields, throw him in jail and, even as Reedy threatened, bleach his bones on the sand, and no help come from over there--not in time to save him.

And yet there must be ways. There were other Mexican officials than the thieving one that Reedy had bribed to protect his movements and robberies. There were some fair Mexicans; and there were others, even if unfair, on whom the pressure of self-interest could surely be brought to bear.