The Mesa Trail Part 24

His upper lip, his long under jaw, were shaven and in white contrast with the bronzed skin of cheeks and brow. His wide, mobile mouth and chin differed from those of the wastrel Thaddeus Roscius who had lain in the road above the Bajada hill. They were firmer, more virile of set, stronger of muscle.

In one hand he carried the battered little yellow suitcase. Upon the other arm was perched the half-naked brown baby, for whose benefit Shea also carried a blanket tied to his shoulders. This was not the ideal trim for a walking tour across the Continental Divide, but Thady Shea had no complaints to make.

Never before had Thady Shea communed alone with a baby, particularly with a baby quite dependent upon him. This baby could not talk but she could coo, and she did coo. She could laugh, and she did laugh. She seemed to find a kinship within the deep, sadly earnest eyes of Thady Shea. She made it evident that she liked his eyes, and whenever they were turned upon her, she giggled with self-conscious and adorable delight.

The day wore on. When darkness descended, Thady Shea camped at the brink of the canon, at the edge of a deep and stony gully which ran down into the canon below. He built a fire, this time in accord with the laws of the land, and produced his scant store of food. Fortunately, the baby was used to living by rough ways and pastures sere.

In this one day Thady Shea lived long years. He realized it himself. He realized the change within him; he perceived it at once, without any vagueness or obscurity. He was filled with wonder and awe. He felt clearly that the manifest friendship and love of this brown baby had loosened something far inside of him. Within a few hours she had loosened something which had been hard and clenched and bitter inside of him these twenty years-something like a knot gripped about a part of his soul, stifling it. But now, at last, the knot was loosened, was gone.

Once again he fell asleep under the stars with glinting tears bedewing his brown cheeks; they were tears of joy and thankfulness. He knew that he was no longer to drift upon the earth. From depending upon the applause of others for happiness, others were now depending upon him. He had someone for whom to live. Vanity was gone from him, and the worth of life was come in unto him. He now had a purpose, a real purpose, to drive him.

That this purpose was very definite and earnest, he had realized with the unloosing of that knot about his soul. He knew whither he was going, and why-why he wanted to find Mrs. Crump. He fell asleep with tears upon his cheeks and in his heart a dumbly vibrant song.

Some time during the night he was awakened; the baby was whimpering, was cold. The fire was dying down. He had been awakened by a queer noise, a noise like the clank of a shod hoof against a stone. He rose and kicked the ember ends into the fire. He removed his coat and laid it over the baby, then he stood looking down at the bundle. The fire flickered up until its glowing flare lighted his tall figure redly and distinctly.

From somewhere in the darkness came a slight sound. Thady Shea lifted up his head and peered about, the vague thought of wild animals disturbing him. From the darkness echoed a faint laugh-a thin, ironic laugh, a laugh that thrilled Thady Shea with evil memories and swift apprehension. He seemed to recognize it as the laugh of Abel Dorales.

Before he could do more than lift his head and peer into the darkness, that darkness was suddenly split and rended by a red flash. The crack of a weapon lifted and lessened among the hills; as it died away, the baby cried out, whimpering. Across the face of Thady Shea flickered a look of dismay, of surprise, of utmost horror. Thady Shea took a step backward, as though something had lifted him off his balance, as though something unseen had impacted against him with terrific force. He staggered and lifted both hands to his head. Then his knees seemed to loosen, and he pitched downward, at the very brink of the gully.

From the stony ravine below came a heavy sound, as of a body pitching and dragging downward. It ceased, and there was abrupt silence. In that silence, the baby cried out, whimpering thinly.

Into the circle of light cast by the tiny fire came a man leading a pony. The man was Abel Dorales and he was smiling.

CHAPTER XV-MACKINTAVERS MAKES FRIENDS

Mrs. Crump was grimly jubilant. She had just killed, not far from the shack which she inhabited, a rattler. It was a peculiarly deadly rattler, a big diamond-back, and its black-and-yellow body looked very beautiful lying out in the morning sunlight.

Mrs. Crump had killed that rattler most expertly; she had killed it with one snapping crack of a blacksnake whip. That one whip snap had coiled about the rattler's head and had neatly decapitated the reptile.

Somewhere among the rocks that head lay naked and ugly, jaws wide agape, white fangs gleaming like needles.

Now, up on the long hogback, Mrs. Crump directed the work of getting out ore, Lewis and Gilbert working steadily under her orders. There was already a goodly heap of ore ready for hauling. Mrs. Crump was awaiting the arrival of Coravel Tio, whom she expected hourly; she had written Coravel Tio very explicitly, and was looking forward to making some money in the near future.

When Coravel Tio arrived, they would arrange about getting a light truck to haul the ore to railroad, and they would arrange about selling the ore. Coravel Tio would handle all such details. Actual production was well under way, and inside of another month Mrs. Crump hoped to have a good force of men working. Provided, of course, that the mine was not sold outright.

"Looks like he's a-coming." Gilbert swung out his hand toward the trail from No Agua. Shading her eyes, Mrs. Crump perceived a smudge of white dust. An automobile was approaching.

It was not Coravel Tio who came, however. It was Sandy Mackintavers, driven in a hired car from Magdalena.

Mehitabel Crump was stiff-necked and uncompromising. She stood in the door of her shack, storm in her eyes, and waited grimly. Outside, sprawled on a bench that ran the length of the shack, Lewis and Gilbert smoked and also waited, ready to act if called upon.

Sandy Mackintavers left his automobile and approached the shack, quick to note the arrangements for his reception. He came up to the doorway where Mrs. Crump awaited him. He removed his hat as he came, and mopped his brow; the sun was pitiless, streaming down with direct and scorching glare, absolute and insufferable. In another hour or two it would be much worse. Sandy Mackintavers held his hat in his left hand; he extended his right hand, square-fingered and strong, to Mrs. Crump.

"Madam, I have come here as a friend. Will you shake hands with me?"

"Not by a d.a.m.n' sight!"

Mrs. Crump's eyes were snapping dangerously. Her retort did not seem to affect Mackintavers, however. His square-hewn features a.s.sumed an oddly hypocritical expression of patient resignation. His hand remained extended.

"I must explain. Your friend Shea has repaid the money-you understand?"

"Reckon I do. What about it?"

"We had quite a conversation, Mrs. Crump. That man is a wonder! Yes'm.

Most remarkable! I never did see things so clear as he made me see 'em, aiblins yes. If I may say so, I feel ashamed of myself. I've done some unhandsome things; aiblins, now, I'll turn around. I'm right sorry for some things, Mrs. Crump. Will ye take my hand?"

Now, if there was anything which could shake the uncompromising hostility of Mrs. Crump, it was to hear her bitterest enemy praise Thady Shea. Aside from this, to hear Sandy Mackintavers express penitence for past sins, even to hear him admit that he had sinned, was an astounding thing. The incredibility of it was tremendous.

That mention of Thady Shea softened Mrs. Crump. She realized that Thady had made a great impression, had made so great an impression that here was Sandy Mackintavers, in the flesh, making apologies for past deeds!

"Well, Sandy," she returned, bluntly, "I will say that I think ye to be more or less of a skunk. Howsomever, I'll meet any man halfway-even you-when he talks that-a-way. I don't guess we'd ever be bosom friends, but I don't aim to be mean or ornery when a man's tryin' to be as white as his nature allows him. Here y'are."

She seized his hand and shook it vigorously. Mackintavers looked rather red about the face, as though her frank opinion of his character had bitten into him.

"Now, if you have time to be talkin' over a little matter o' business--"

"About this here location?" Mrs. Crump's eyes began to snap again.

"Yes."

"Gilbert! Lewis! Come on in here. Meet Sandy Mackintavers. They're members o' the company, Sandy. They got claims along the canon, which same they turned in for stock. Stock ain't issued yet, but that's all right. Come on inside an' talk."

The lady was truculent and openly suspicious; the two men were narrow-eyed, hostile. Mackintavers seemed quite oblivious, and entered the shack. All four seated themselves. Mackintavers produced cigars.

Mrs. Crump lighted her pipe and uttered a single emphatic word.

"Shoot!"

"You have a valuable mine here," said Mackintavers, without preamble. "I want to control it. I'm talking frank and laying my cards on the table, ma'am. First, let me give you folks an idea of the railroad situation."

He briefly described the prevalent car shortage, with the reasons therefore.

"You'll get no ore cars until the war's over, and maybe not then," he pursued. "But I have a standing contract that can't be broken, for so many cars a month-and I'm getting them. Ye see? Aiblins, now, that contract's worth something; set your own figure on it. For the rest, I'll buy stock at your own price, a controlling interest."

"Sandy, who'd ever trust you once ye got your nose into this thing?"

Mrs. Crump laughed scornfully. "Not me!"

"Then don't trust me," returned Sandy, meekly, although the veins in his temples swelled into blue cords. "Don't trust me. Hire your own lawyers to draw up the matter, protect your interests fully. Give me charge of the actual mine, and then sit back an' draw down the coin from your interest; savvy? If I'm not able to make millions out o' this here mine, I'll quit! Ain't that frank talk? Ain't I human? I tell ye, when that man Shea came along and turned back that money, I learned something!"

"Where's Thady Shea now?" demanded Mrs. Crump.

"Went to St. Johns night before last, with Fred Ross and Bill Murray.

Said he'd be here later, maybe. I like that man! Something about him kind o' draws you. Aiblins, he'd be grand in the legislature, now! Eh?

Well, well, about this mine matter; as I say, use any means ye like. I don't blame you for not trusting me. But it's a good thing and I'll buy into it, savvy? Protect yourself, certainly. But why not let me buy into it? I have a bit of influence; aiblins, now, I'd be able to help production here an' there, and to furnish no end of money for the work."

The snap had gone out of Mrs. Crump's blue eyes. They were suddenly warm, kindly, unguarded. Thady Shea in the legislature! Why not? And Sandy was dead right. Everyone seemed to be drawn to Thady Shea.