The Furnace of Gold Part 14

"Belay there, you son of a sh.e.l.lfish!" yelled Napoleon, dismounting and madly attempting to push real men away. "I'll smash in your pilot-house! I'll---- Leave me git in there to Algy!"

Gettysburg, too, was on the ground. He, Bostwick, and a hundred men were madly crowded in together, where two or three were pushing back the throng and yelling to Algy to fight.

Algy was fighting. He was also spouting most awful Chinese oaths, sufficient to warp an ordinary spine and wither a common person's limbs. He kicked and scratched like a badger. But the miner was an engine of destruction. He was aggravated to a mood of gory slaughter.

He broke the Chinaman's arm, almost at once, with some viciously diabolical maneuver and leaped upon him in fury.

In upon this scene of yelling, cursing, and fighting Van rode unannounced. He saw the crowd increasing rapidly, as saloons, stores, hay-yard, bank, and places of lodging poured out a curious army, mostly men, with a few scattered women among them--all surging eagerly forward.

Algy, meantime, in a spasm of pain and activity, struggled to his feet from the dust and attempted to make his escape. Van no more than beheld him that he leaped from his horse and broke his way into the ring.

When he laid his hand on the miner's collar it appeared as if that individual would be suddenly jerked apart. Algy went down in collapse.

"Why don't you pick on a man of your color?"

Van demanded, and he flung the miner headlong to the ground.

A hundred l.u.s.ty citizens shouted their applause.

Little Napoleon broke his way to the center. Gettysburg was just behind him. Van was about to kneel on the ground and lift his prostrate cook when someone bawled out a warning.

He wheeled instantly. The angered miner, up, with a gun in hand, was lurching in closer to shoot. He got no chance, even to level the weapon. Van was upon him like a panther. The gun went up and was fired in the air, and then was hurled down under foot.

Two things happened then together. The sheriff arrived to arrest the drunken miner, and a woman pushed her way through the press.

"Van!" she cried. "Van--oh, Van!"

He was busy a.s.sisting his partners to escort poor Algy away. He noted the woman as she parted the crowd. He was barely in time to fend her off from flinging herself in his arms.

"Oh, Van!" she repeated wildly. "I thought you was goin' to git it sure!"

"Don't bother me, Queenie," he answered, annoyed, and adding to Gettysburg, "Take him to Charlie's," he turned at once to his broncho, mounted actively, and began to round up the scattered animals brought into camp by his partners.

He had barely ridden clear of the crowd when his glance was caught by a figure off to the left.

It was Beth. She was standing on a packing case, where the surging disorder had sent her. She had seen it all, the fight, his arrival, and the woman who would have clasped him in her arms.

Her face was flushed. She avoided his gaze and turned to descend to the walk. Then Bostwick, in his convict suit, stepped actively forward to meet her.

Van saw the look of surprise in her face, at beholding the man in this attire. She recoiled, despite herself, then held forth her hand for his aid. Bostwick took it, a.s.sisted her down, and they hastily made their escape.

CHAPTER XII

BOSTWICK LOSES GROUND

The one retreat for Beth was the house where she was lodging. She went there at once, briefly explaining to Bostwick on the way how it chanced she had come the day before. What had happened to himself she already knew.

Bostwick was a thoroughly angered man. He had seen the horseman in the fight and had hoped to see him slain. To find Beth safe and even cheerful here annoyed him exceedingly.

"Have you lodged a complaint--done anything to have this fellow arrested?" he demanded, alluding to Van. "Have you reported what was done to me?"

"Why, no," said Beth. "What's the use? He did it all in kindness, after all."

"Kindness!"

"Of a sort--a rough sort, perhaps, but genuine--a kindness to me--and Elsa," she answered, flushing rosily. "He saved me from----" she looked at the convict garb upon him, "--from a disagreeable experience, I'm sure, and secured me the very best accommodations in the town."

They had almost come to her lodgings. Bostwick halted in the road, his gun-metal jaw protruding formidably.

"You haven't already begun to admire this ruffian--glorify this outlaw?" he growled, "--after what he did to me?"

"Don't stop to discuss it here," she answered, beholding Mrs. d.i.c.k at the front of the house. "I haven't had time to do anything. You must manage to change your clothes."

"I'll have my reckoning with your friend," he a.s.sured her angrily.

"Have you engaged a suite for me?"

They had come to the door of the house. Beth beheld the look of amazement, suspicion, and repugnance on the face of Mrs. d.i.c.k, and her face burned red once more.

"Oh, Mrs. d.i.c.k," she said, "this is Mr. Bostwick, of whom I spoke." She had told of Bostwick's capture by the convicts. "Do you think you could find him a room?"

"A room? I want a suite--two rooms at least," said Bostwick aggressively. "Is this a first-cla.s.s place?"

"It ain't no regular heaven, and I ain't no regular Mrs. Saint Peter,"

answered Mrs. d.i.c.k with considerable heat, irritated by Bostwick's personality and recognizing in him Van's "smoke-faced Easterner." She added crisply: "So you might as well vamoose the ranch, fer I couldn't even put you in the shed."

"But I've got to have accommodations!" insisted Bostwick. "I prefer them where my fiancee--where Miss Kent is stopping. I'm sure you can manage it someway--let someone go. The price is no object to me."

"I don't want you that bad," said Mrs. d.i.c.k frankly. "I said no and I'm too busy to say it again."

She bustled off with her ant-like celerity, followed by Bostwick's scowls.

"You'll have to give up your apartments here," he said to Beth. "I'll find something better at once."

"Thank you, I'm very well satisfied," said Beth. "You'll find this town quite overcrowded."

"You mean you propose to stay here in spite of my wishes?"

"Please don't wish anything absurd," she answered. "This is really no place for fastidious choosing--and I am very comfortable."

A lanky youth, with a suitcase and three leather bags, came shuffling around the corner and dropped down his load.

"Van told me to bring 'em here with his--something I don't remember,"

imparted the youth. "That's all," and he grinned and departed.

Bostwick glowered, less pleased than before.

"That fellow, I presume. He evidently knows where you are stopping."