The Oakdale Affair Part 9

"Gosh!" exclaimed Mr. Case, feelingly. "I wisht I'd asked six bits more--I mought jest as well o' got it as not. Gosh, eh?"

"Gosh!" murmured Willie Case, fervently.

Back down the sticky road plodded The Oskaloosa Kid, his arms heavy and his heart light, for, was he not 'bringing home the bacon,' literally as well as figuratively. As he entered the Squibbs' gateway he saw the girl and Bridge standing upon the verandah waiting his coming, and as he approached them and they caught a nearer view of his great burden of provisions they hailed him with loud acclaim.

"Some artist!" cried the man. "And to think that I doubted your ability to make a successful touch! Forgive me! You are the ne plus ultra, non est c.u.mquidibus, in hoc signo vinces, only and original kind of hand-out compellers."

"How in the world did you do it?" asked the girl, rapturously.

"Oh, it's easy when you know how," replied The Oskaloosa Kid carelessly, as, with the help of the others, he carried the fruits of his expedition into the kitchen. Here Bridge busied himself about the stove, adding more wood to the fire and scrubbing a portion of the top plate as clean as he could get it with such crude means as he could discover about the place.

The youth he sent to the nearby brook for water after selecting the least dirty of the several empty tin cans lying about the floor of the summer kitchen. He warned against the use of the water from the old well and while the boy was away cut a generous portion of the bacon into long, thin strips.

Shortly after, the water coming to the boil, Bridge lowered three eggs into it, glanced at his watch, greased one of the new cleaned stove lids with a piece of bacon rind and laid out as many strips of bacon as the lid would accommodate. Instantly the room was filled with the delicious odor of frying bacon.

"M-m-m-m!" gloated The Oskaloosa Kid. "I wish I had bo--asked for more.

My! but I never smelled anything so good as that in all my life. Are you going to boil only three eggs? I could eat a dozen."

"The can'll only hold three at a time," explained Bridge. "We'll have some more boiling while we are eating these." He borrowed his knife from the girl, who was slicing and b.u.t.tering bread with it, and turned the bacon swiftly and deftly with the point, then he glanced at his watch.

"The three minutes are up," he announced and, with a couple of small, flat sticks saved for the purpose from the kindling wood, withdrew the eggs one at a time from the can.

"But we have no cups!" exclaimed The Oskaloosa Kid, in sudden despair.

Bridge laughed. "Knock an end off your egg and the sh.e.l.l will answer in place of a cup. Got a knife?"

The Kid didn't. Bridge eyed him quizzically. "You must have done most of your burgling near home," he commented.

"I'm not a burglar!" cried the youth indignantly. Somehow it was very different when this nice voiced man called him a burglar from bragging of the fact himself to such as The Sky Pilot's villainous company, or the awestruck, open-mouthed Willie Case whose very expression invited heroics.

Bridge made no reply, but his eyes wandered to the right hand side pocket of the boy's coat. Instantly the latter glanced guiltily downward to flush redly at the sight of several inches of pearl necklace protruding accusingly therefrom. The girl, a silent witness of the occurrence, was brought suddenly and painfully to a realization of her present position and recollection of the happenings of the preceding night. For the time she had forgotten that she was alone in the company of a tramp and a burglar--how much worse either might be she could only guess.

The breakfast, commenced so auspiciously, continued in gloomy silence.

At least the girl and The Oskaloosa Kid were silent and gloom steeped. Bridge was thoughtful but far from morose. His spirits were unquenchable.

"I am afraid," he said, "that I shall have to replace James. His defection is unforgivable, and he has misplaced the finger-bowls."

The youth and the girl forced wan smiles; but neither spoke. Bridge drew a pouch of tobacco and some papers from an inside pocket.

"'I had the makings and I smoked

"'And wondered over different things,

"'Thinkin' as how this old world joked

"'In callin' only some men kings

"'While I sat there a-blowin' rings.'"

He paused to kindle a sliver of wood at the stove. "In these parlous times," he spoke as though to himself, "one must economize. They are taking a quarter of an ounce out of each five cents worth of chewing, I am told; so doubtless each box must be five or six matches short of full count. Even these papers seem thinner than of yore and they will only sell one book to a customer at that. Indeed Sherman was right."

The youth and the girl remained occupied with their own thoughts, and after a moment's silence the vagabond resumed:

"'Me? I was king of anywhere,

"'Peggin' away at nothing, hard.

"'Havin' no pet, particular care;

"'Havin' no trouble, or no pard;

"'"Just me," filled up my callin' card.' "Say, do you know I've learned to love this Knibbs person. I used to think of him as a poor attic prune grinding away in his New York sky parlor, writing his verse of the things he longed for but had never known; until, one day, I met a fellow between Victorville and Cajon pa.s.s who knew His Knibbs, and come to find out this Knibbs is a regular fellow. His attic covers all G.o.d's country that is out of doors and he knows the road from La Bajada hill to Barstow a darned sight better than he knows Broadway."

There was no answering sympathy awakened in either of his listeners--they remained mute. Bridge rose and stretched. He picked up his knife, wiped off the blade, closed it and slipped it into a trousers' pocket. Then he walked toward the door. At the threshold he paused and turned. "'Good-bye girls! I'm through,'" he quoted and pa.s.sed out into the sunlight.

Instantly the two within were on their feet and following him.

"Where are you going?" cried The Oskaloosa Kid. "You're not going to leave us, are you?"

"Oh, please don't!" pleaded the girl.

"I don't know," said Bridge, solemnly, "whether I'm safe in remaining in your society or not. This Oskaloosa Kid is a bad proposition; and as for you, young lady, I rather imagine that the town constable is looking for you right now."

The girl winced. "Please don't," she begged. "I haven't done anything wicked, honestly! But I want to get away so that they can't question me.

I was in the car when they killed him; but I had nothing to do with it.

It is just because of my father that I don't want them to find me. It would break his heart."

As the three stood back of the Squibbs' summer kitchen Fate, in the guise of a rural free delivery carrier and a Ford, pa.s.sed by the front gate. A mile beyond he stopped at the Case mail box where Jeb and his son Willie were, as usual, waiting his coming, for the rural free delivery man often carries more news than is contained in his mail sacks.

"Mornin' Jeb," he called, as he swerved his light car from the road and drew up in front of the Case gate.

"Mornin', Jim!" returned Mr. Case. "Nice rain we had last night. What's the news?"

"Plenty! Plenty!" exclaimed the carrier. "Lived here nigh onto forty year, man an' boy, an' never seen such work before in all my life."

"How's that?" questioned the farmer, scenting something interesting.

"Ol' man Baggs's murdered last night," announced the carrier, watching eagerly for the effect of his announcement.

"Gosh!" gasped Willie Case. "Was he shot?" It was almost a scream.

"I dunno," replied Jim. "He's up to the horspital now, an' the doc says he haint one chance in a thousand."

"Gosh!" exclaimed Mr. Case.

"But thet ain't all," continued Jim. "Reggie Paynter was murdered last night, too; right on the pike south of town. They threw his corpse outen a ottymobile."

"By gol!" cried Jeb Case; "I hearn them devils go by last night 'bout midnight er after. 'T woke me up. They must o' ben goin' sixty mile an hour. Er say," he stopped to scratch his head. "Mebby it was tramps.

They must a ben a score on 'em round here yesterday and las' night an'