The Mesa Trail Part 11

Mrs. Crump's scribbled mention of her revolver drew a whimsical smile to his lips. He could not remember having fired a revolver in all his life, except with stage blanks; and he had not the slightest intention of learning the art at this time.

He was slightly surprised at his own lack of feeling in regard to the men whom he had hurt. His one uneasiness was lest he be arrested-or, rather, lest someone try to arrest him. He did not intend to leave Number Sixteen until it was safe to do so; until he was certain the place was secure. Therefore, if any officers appeared, a fight must ensue. Consequences did not matter. Thady Shea was quite willing to face any ultimate dispensation of justice so long as he kept Number Sixteen intact for Mrs. Crump.

"I must make up for what I've done," he reflected. "Then I can go. I am a failure, a sodden wreck upon the shoals of self. Once let my reparation be established, and I shall go forth into the world again to seek the dregs of fortune with the bent diviner's rod of Thespian mimicry."

He broke short off, smiling at his own language.

Shea knew inwardly that the old life was gone from him forever. He looked up at the looming mountains and felt a sudden savage joy in himself; a joy that frightened him, so primitive and sweeping was it. He had fought with men-had conquered them! In a measure he was done with all self-recrimination for his weakness and failure. Those were things of the past. He would not be weak again! Remorse fell away from him, and peace came.

The more he thought about arrest, however, the less probable it seemed.

Ben Aimes had given him liquor, which was in defiance of law. Shea already knew that Mackintavers et. al. were not desirous of getting into court unless they had an ironclad hold upon the other fellow; this was proven by Mrs. Crump's having "shot up" Dorales with impunity. If the proceedings of the past twenty-four hours were given a public airing, sundry matters might require explanations which would be uncomfortable for Mackintavers.

No, upon that count he was perhaps safe enough; but there would be other counts. They would try to get him-how? No matter. Here was another reason why he must leave Number Sixteen. He must lose himself from those enemies, and he must not involve Mrs. Crump in the mix-up.

Thus deciding, it must be admitted rather vaguely, Thady Shea knocked out his pipe and sought his bunk. He was not so ill pleased with himself, after all; he would yet save Number Sixteen for Mrs. Crump!

The following morning, for the first time in the weeks since Mrs. Crump had picked him up, Thady Shea relaxed in blissful indolence. He had no idea of how the vein or veins of strontianite should be worked. There was little to do about the cabin. So he climbed the long hogback and settled down to smoke and watch the road that wound down from the canon toward the lava beds, the road that led into the world.

The day pa.s.sed idly and uneventful. With its pa.s.sing, Shea felt more a.s.sured that his theory was correct; that he was not to be arrested. So convinced of this was he, that when, toward sunset, he discerned a dusty streak betokening the approach of an automobile, he made certain that Mrs. Crump was returning.

Thady Shea sat where he was, resolved to tell her frankly the whole story of his disgrace, then to pause for no argument, but to go. He did not so misjudge her as to think that she would kick him out; still, he felt that he had been false to her trust, and as a part of his penance he must go away, until he might be able to come back a man renewed. A most indistinct idea, this, but strongly persistent. Besides, he would now be a marked man and he must not involve her in his possible danger.

Somewhat to his surprise and uneasiness, as the approaching flivver drew up the canon Shea could not recognize the gigantic figure of Mehitabel Crump aboard. He saw only three men in the car, and he knew none of them. Two in the rear seat were evidently natives; from the dirty and heavily laden appearance of the car, Shea deduced that these men had come upon no errand of the law. They seemed, rather, to be prospectors or campers.

Near the dust-white flivver the car came to a halt. The driver alighted, and having previously made out the motionless figure of Thady Shea on the hillside above, waved a hand and started upward. The two natives climbed out and began to unstrap bundles.

As the visitor came near to him, Shea saw that the man was powerfully built, roughly dressed, and possessed striking gray eyes beneath black brows and hair.

"Howdy, old-timer!" greeted the new arrival, pausing with outstretched hand and a frank smile. "My name's Logan, Tom Logan. We got lost over in the lava beds and struck your auto tracks. We're prospecting. You don't mind if we camp out here for the night?"

Shea rose and gravely shook hands.

"Not a bit, my friends," he said, then pointed a hundred yards beyond the halted car. "You see that big rock down the valley? Instruct your comrades to make camp at that point or below it."

Logan gave him a puzzled look. That word "valley" was strange in these parts.

"Eh, partner? You're not joking?"

"Sir, the habiliments of jest do not become me," returned Shea, his cavernous eyes piercingly steady.

"But this is all free country, isn't it?"

"It is not. No person may intrude upon this property, sir. You are welcome to water and food if your needs be such, and I am fain of your company. Kindly instruct your knaves to move as I have said."

For a moment Logan met the gravely firm gaze of Shea, then turned and lifted his hands to his mouth. He shouted something in the patois, to which the two natives waved a.s.sent. They turned their car and took it to the rock that marked the limit of Mrs. Crump's location in the canon.

Logan began to roll a cigarette with deft fingers.

"Prospecting hereabouts, I presume?" he inquired. "I didn't get your name."

Shea found himself warming to the cultivated accents.

"My name, sir, is Shea."

"W-whew!" A long whistle broke from Logan, whose thin lips parted in a smile. "So you're the man! I heard about you at Zacaton City last night.

They say you cleaned up Aimes and his crowd for giving you a drink, and that you threatened to do worse to any man who offered you one again!

Good thing I didn't do it, eh? Glad to meet you, Shea. I'm set against liquor myself. You've sure become famous in this part of the country!"

Thady Shea did not altogether like the swarthy features and the odd contrast between steely eyes and coa.r.s.e black hair, but he did like applause. He took the stranger down to the shacks and when Logan set about cooking an excellent dinner, Shea was delighted.

Over their meal the two men conversed at length, chiefly on the subject of mining. Tom Logan asked no questions about Number Sixteen, but he formed the private opinion that Thady Shea was earnest, upright, and a simpleton. Two thirds of this diagnosis was correct. The other third was destined to make trouble for Tom Logan.

At last, over their third pipe, Logan yawned.

"This here is a queer country," he observed. "You're prospecting for gold hereabouts, of course. But d'you know, Shea, the old prospecting business is changed? Yes, it is. Nowadays two thirds of the prospectors turn up their noses at gold. There are new things in the field, things that pay better than gold.

"Platinum, for instance; or tungsten or manganese. Take my own case-I'm one of a dozen men sent out by a big New York chemical house. I'm after strontium. It comes in two forms, celest.i.te and strontianite. Celest.i.te brings about twenty dollars a ton at seaboard; but strontianite, when converted into nitrates, brings five hundred. The average old-time prospector hasn't the chemical knowledge to find such things as those."

"Maybe," said Shea, reflectively. "But yonder hillock, black against the stars, holds in its deep heart veins of mineral; and in those veins, my friend, there runs an ichor bearing the self-same name as that you seek."

Logan stared over this for a moment. Then:

"By jasper! D'you mean that you've got strontianite here?"

"So they do tell me," averred Shea, modestly. He added with frankness, that while he held a third interest in the claim, he knew little of minerals.

Logan displayed a cordial and friendly interest, and asked to see samples. Shea found one or two and set them forth, telling what he knew of the veins. The interest of the visitor grew and waxed enthusiastic.

Logan examined the samples closely, and then his gray eyes suddenly struck up at Shea.

"Look here!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "Would you, provided the veins and so forth run as you describe them, accept ten thousand dollars cash for your interest in this location?"

To Thady Shea this offer came like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.

"You see," pursued Logan, "a deposit like this would answer my company's purposes admirably. We might never find another like it. Ten thousand is not a large offer, but it would be a year or more before you'd begin to pull money out of the property. Say yes, and I'll examine the location to-morrow; if it's what you say, I'll buy your right and interest in the property, sign the papers, and before to-morrow night you'll cash my check."

Shea rose to his feet. He wanted to get away from the influence of this man's personality. He wanted to ask counsel from the friendly stars.

"I'll think it over," he said, unsteadily. "By myself--"

"Sure," Logan agreed, heartily. "I'll make out the papers, eh? We're not the kind of men to haggle and fight each other for price."

Thady Shea stalked forth into the darkness, his soul a riot of emotions.

"Ten thousand dollars!" he murmured, staring up at the blazing stars.

What a sum to turn over to Mrs. Crump upon leaving! With that sum, Mrs.

Crump could at once begin development work, independently of Logan's company. With that sum, she could set trucks at work hauling ore to the railroad. With that sum, she could do-anything!

It never occurred to him that he might keep the money for himself; it never occurred to him that he was actually one third owner of the mine, and could sell out any time. Never had he thought about money in connection with Number Sixteen; he had not mentally placed his partnership with Mrs. Crump upon any financial basis. It was because of this very simplicity of thought that Mrs. Crump had felt drawn to him.

It was because of this, too, that she had instructed Coravel Tio to record the entire property in the name of Thady Shea, in order to camouflage her ownership from the many eyes of Sandy Mackintavers. But this Shea did not know.

Thady Shea came to the big gray bowlder that marked the limit of the canon location. He stood against it, gazing upward at the stars, lost in his dream. The rocky ma.s.s shut off from him the flickering fire, built by Logan's native companions. Behind, the light in the shack was as another star. He was alone. He was alone, and in the valley of decision.