The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 21

Sandy nodded.

"I'm in," he cried, as though a great privilege had been bestowed upon him.

And at once Toby became anxious.

"Guess you ain't no use for me, Bill?" he hazarded, almost diffidently.

Bill turned his steely eyes on him in cold contemplation. Minky had joined in Sunny's grin at the other men's expense. Sandy, too, now that he was accepted as an active member of the trust, was indulging in a superior smile.

"I don't allow I have," Bill said slowly. "Y'see, you ain't much else than a 'remittance' man, an' they ain't no sort o' trash anyway."

"But," protested Toby, "I can't help it if my folks hand me money?"

"Mebbe you can't." Bill was actually smiling. And this fact so far influenced the other members of the trust that an audible t.i.tter went round the room. Then the gambler suddenly sat forward, and the old fierce gleam shone once more in his cold eyes. "Say," he cried suddenly. "If a feller got the 'drop' on you with six bar'ls of a gun well-loaded, an'--guessed you'd best squeal, wot 'ud you do?"

"Squeal," responded the puzzled Toby, with alacrity.

"You ken join the Trust. You sure got more savvee than I tho't."

Bill sat back grinning, while a roar of laughter concluded the founding of the Zip Trust.

But like all ceremonials, the matter had to be prolonged and surrounded with the frills of officialdom. Sunny called it organization, and herein only copied people of greater degree and self-importance.

He plunged into his task with whole-hearted enthusiasm, and, with every word he uttered, preened himself in the belief that he was rapidly ascending in the opinion of Wild Bill, the only man on Suffering Creek for whose opinion he cared a jot.

He explained to his comrades, with all the vanity of a man whose inspiration has met with public approval, that in forming such a combine as theirs, it would be necessary to allot certain work, which he called "departments," to certain individuals. He a.s.sured his fellow-members that such was always done in "way-up concerns." It saved confusion, and ensured the work being adequately performed.

"Sort o' like a noo elected gover'ment," suggested Sandy sapiently.

"Wal, I won't say that," said Sunny. "Them fellers traipse around wi'

portyfolios hangin' to 'em. I don't guess we need them things. It's too hot doin' stunts like that."

"Portfolios?" questioned Toby artlessly. "Wot's them for?"

"Oh, jest nuthin' o' consequence. Guess it's to make folks guess they're doin' a heap o' work. No, what we need is to set each man his work this aways. Now Bill here needs to be president sure. Y'see, we must hev a 'pres.' Most everything needs a 'pres.' He's got to sit on top, so if any one o' the members gits gay he ken hand 'em a daisy wot'll send 'em squealin' an' huntin' their holes like gophers. Wal, Bill needs to be our 'pres.' Then there's the 'general manager.' He's the feller wot sets around an' blames most everybody fer everything anyway, an' writes to the noospapers. He's got to have savvee, an' an elegant way o' shiftin' the responsibility o' things on them as can't git back at him. He's got to be a bright lad--"

"That's Sunny, sure," exclaimed Toby. "He's a dandy at gettin' out o'

things an' leaving others in. Say--"

"Here, half-a-tick," cried Joyce, with sudden inspiration. "Who's goin' to be 'fightin' editor'?"

"Gee, what a brain!" cried Sunny derisively. "Say, we ain't runnin' a mornin' noos sheet. This is a trust. Sandy, my boy, you need educatin'. A trust's a corporation of folks wot is so crooked, they got to git together, an' pool their cash, so's to git enough dollars to kep 'em out o' penitentiary. That's how they start. Later on, if they kep clear o' the penitentiary, they start in to fake the market till the Gover'ment b.u.t.ts in. Then they git gay, buy up a vote in Congress, an' fake the laws so they're fixed right fer themselves.

After that some of them git religion, some of 'em give trick feeds to their friends, some of 'em start in to hang jewels on stage females.

Some of 'em have been known to shoot theirselves or git divorced. It ain't no sort o' matter wot they do, pervided they're civil to the noospaper folk. That's a trust, Sandy, an' I don't say but what the feller as tho't o' that name must o' bin a tarnation amusin' feller."

"Say, you orter bin in a cirkis," sneered Sandy, as the loafer finished his disquisition.

"Wal, I'd say that's better'n a museum," retorted Sunny.

But Toby was impatient to hear how Sunny intended to dispose of him.

"Wher' do I figger in this lay-out?" he demanded.

"You?" Sunny's eyes twinkled. "Don't guess we'll need to give you hard work. You best be boss o' the workin' staff."

"But ther' ain't no workin' staff," protested Toby.

"Jest so. That's why you'll be boss of it." Then Sunny turned to Sandy.

"We'll need your experience as a married man, tho'," he said slyly.

"So you best be head o' the advisory board. You'll need to kep us wise to the general principles of vittlin' a family of three, when the woman's missin'. Then we'll need a treasurer." Sunny turned to Minky, and his twinkling eyes asked the question.

"Sure," said Minky promptly, "I'll be treasurer. Seems to me I'll be safer that ways."

"Good," cried Sunny, "that's all fixed." He turned to Bill. "Say, pres," he went on, "I'd like to pa.s.s a vote o' thanks fer the way you conducted this yer meetin', an' put it to the vote, that we accept the treasurer's invitation to take wine. All in favor will--"

"Mine's rye," cried Sandy promptly.

"An' mine," added Toby.

"Rye for me," nodded Sunny at Minky's grinning face. "Bill--?"

But Bill shook his head.

"Too early for me," he said, "you fellers can git all you need into you though. But see here, folks," he went on, with a quietness of purpose that promptly reduced every eye to seriousness. "This ain't no play game as Sunny may ha' made you think. It's a proposition that needs to go thro', an'--I'm goin' to see it thro'. Zip's kids is our first trouble. They ain't easy handlin'. They got to be bro't up reg'lar, an' their stummicks ain't to be pizened with no wrong sort o'

vittles. Ther's such a heap o' things to kids o' that age it makes me nigh sweat at the tho't. Howsum, Zip's down an' out, an' we got to see him right someways. As 'pres' of this lay-out, I tell you right here, every mother's son of us had best git out an' learn all we ken about fixin' kids right. How to feed 'em, how to set their pretties on right, how to clean 'em, how to--well, jest how to raise 'em. If any o' you got leddy friends I'd say git busy askin' 'em. So--"

At that moment the sound of footsteps on the veranda came in through the window, and Bill looked round. The next instant he spoke more rapidly, and with greater authority.

"Git goin'," he cried, "an' we'll meet after supper."

There was no doubt of this man's rule. Without a word the men filed out of the store, each one with his thoughts bent upon the possibilities of acquiring the knowledge necessary.

CHAPTER XI

STRANGERS IN SUFFERING CREEK

Bill watched the men depart. The stolid Minky, too, followed them with his eyes. But as they disappeared through the doorway he turned to the gambler, and, in surprise, discovered that he was reclining in a chair, stretched out in an att.i.tude of repose, with his shrewd eyes tightly closed. He was about to speak when the swing-doors opened, and two strangers strolled in.

Minky greeted them, "Howdy?" and received an amiable response. The newcomers were ordinary enough to satisfy even the suspicious storekeeper. In fact, they looked like men from some city, who had possibly come to Suffering Creek with the purpose of ascertaining the possibilities of the camp as a place in which to try their fortunes.

Both were clad in store clothes of fair quality, wearing hats of the black prairie type, and only the extreme tanning of their somewhat genial faces belied the city theory.

Minky noted all these things while he served them the drinks they called for, and, in the most approvedly casual manner, put the usual question to them.

"Wher' you from?" he inquired, as though the matter were not of the least consequence.