The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 51

Two days of excitement were quite sufficient to upset the nerves of Suffering Creek. The only excitement it was used to was the sudden discovery of an extra good find of gold. The camp understood that. It was like an inspiration to the creative worker. It stimulated the energies, it uplifted. Any other sort of excitement had a paralyzing effect. And thus the excitement of the present Sunday and Monday entirely upset the rest of the week's work.

Everybody felt that the happenings of those days were merely the forerunners of something yet to come, of something even more startling. And the restlessness of uncertainty as to its nature kept the population hanging about the camp, fearful that, in their absence, things might occur, and they would miss partic.i.p.ation in them.

The inhabitants of Suffering Creek were a virile race, strongly human, full of interest in pa.s.sing events, and men of appet.i.te for any slices of life that might come their way. So, having "cashed in" to the "limit" all the gold-dust they possessed, they felt they were ent.i.tled to spend a few days in watching events, and a few dollars in pa.s.sing the time until such events, if any, should come within their range of vision.

What events were expected it is doubtful if the most inventive could have put into words. The general opinion expressed--out of Minky's hearing, of course, but to the accompaniment of deep libations of his most execrable whisky--was that, personally, that astute trader was, for some unaccountable reason, rapidly qualifying for the "bug-house," and that the only thing due from them was to display their loyalty to him by humoring him to the extent of discounting all the "dust" they could lay hands on, and wishing him well out of the trouble he seemed bent on laying up for himself. Meanwhile they would take a holiday on the proceeds of their traffic, and, out of sheer good-fellowship, stand by to help, or at least applaud, when the _denouement_ came.

Many of the shrewder men looked to Wild Bill to give a key to the situation. They knew him to be Minky's closest friend. Besides that, he was a man intensely "wide" and far-seeing in matters pertaining to such a situation as at present existed.

But Wild Bill, in this case, was the blankest of blanks in the lottery of their draw for information. Whether this blankness was real or affected men could not make up their minds. The gambler was so unlike his usual self. The hard, rough, autocratic manner of the man seemed to have undergone a subtle change. He went about full of geniality and a lightness his fellow-citizens had never before observed in him. And, besides, he had suddenly become the only man in the place who seemed to lack interest in the doings of the James gang. Even beyond the bare facts of the outrage down by the river on Sunday morning, he could not be cajoled into discussing that individual or his doings.

No, his immediate interest apparently lay in his newly purchased half-claim. He spent the Monday afternoon there watching the unwilling Sandy sweating at his labors. And on the Tuesday he even pa.s.sed him a helping hand. It did not occur to these men that Bill kept away to avoid their cross-questionings. It only seemed to them that his new toy had a greater fascination for him than those things which made for the welfare of the community; that his inexperienced eyes were blinded to the facts which were patent enough to them: namely, that he had bought the most worthless property in the district.

So they laughed, behind his back, and shrugged their great shoulders pityingly, and their pity was also touched with resentment that his interest in Suffering Creek could be so easily diverted. It was Joe Brand who handed them a most excellent laugh on the subject, though the laugh was rather _at_ than _with_ him.

He was talking to Van and White and several other men at one of the tables in the store. Whisky had brightened his eyes, which had been quietly smiling for some time as the talk of Bill went round. Then he suddenly bent forward and arrested the general attention.

"Say, boys," he cried, "here's a good one for you. What's the diff'rence between Wild Bill and Minky?"

Van promptly guffawed.

"Gee!" he cried, "ther' ain't none. They're sure both 'bug.'"

A great laugh greeted the retort, but Joe shook his head.

"That sure ain't the answer, but it's real bright," he admitted reluctantly, while Van preened himself.

"Guess they're both that wise they don't know if they're comin' down or goin' up," he went on, seeking to add to the score he felt he had made.

But Joe felt he was being robbed of the fruits of his effort, and promptly insisted upon his riddle.

"What's the diff'rence between Wild Bill an' Minky?" he asked again, this time with added emphasis.

He waited impatiently until one of the men shook his head, when he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the opportunity of firing his quip.

"Why," he cried, with a shout of delight, "Bill's put his gold into a mudbank, an' Minky's jest yearnin' to set his gold into any old bank,"

and fell back laughing furiously.

But he had his merriment to himself. Van, feeling he had the company with him, sneered.

"Gee! that's the worst ever," he cried witheringly.

White spat out a chew of tobacco.

"I'd say you're that bright you'd orter write comic Bible trac's," he declared.

But even in his failure as a humorist Joe Brand gave expression to the general opinion of the two men who, up till that time, had been accounted, to use a local expression, the "wisest guys west o' Sp.a.w.n City."

Certainly, for the time being, the mighty had fallen, and their a.s.sociates, in the persons of Sunny Oak, Toby Jenks and Sandy Joyce, had to stand by listening to remarks against their fellow Trust members which, though distinctly offensive, they yet, in justice, had to admit were perfectly warranted on the face of things. Even Scipio, mild little man as he was, had to endure considerable chaff, which worried and annoyed him, as to the way in which he had succeeded in bluffing so shrewd a "guy" as Wild Bill into purchasing half his claim.

But these things were only sidelights on the feelings of the moment.

Expectancy was at fever-heat, and each and every man was wondering what was about to happen. For though their belief in Bill and Minky had received a jolt, long months of experience had sown in them an appreciation that took a power of uprooting.

The Monday and Tuesday pa.s.sed without development of any sort. There were several conferences between the members of the Trust, but these were really only meetings at which the lesser members received more minute instructions for the carrying out of their duties on the Wednesday. No information otherwise was forthcoming for them from either Minky or the president, and all attempt to extort any was promptly nipped in the bud by the latter without the least compunction or courtesy.

Sandy resented this att.i.tude. Sunny complained of the lack of confidence. But Toby sat back immensely enjoying the chagrin of his two friends, and cordially swore that both Minky and Bill knew a large-meshed sieve when they saw one.

Tuesday night was a memorable one on Suffering Creek. Never had there been such a gathering in Minky's store; and his heart must have been rejoiced to see the manner in which so many of the dollars he had expended in the purchase of gold-dust came fluttering back to their nest in his till. The camp appeared to have made up its mind to an orgy of the finest brand. Drink flowed and overflowed. The store that night fairly swam in whisky. The flood set in the moment supper was finished, and from that time until two o'clock in the morning the l.u.s.ty storekeeper never had a moment's rest.

Men drank themselves drunk, and drank themselves sober again. There was no poker or faro. No one wanted to gamble. There was sufficient gamble in their minds on the subject of to-morrow's stage to satisfy them for the moment. Would it get through? That was the question. And the general opinion was an emphatic denial.

How could it? Had not scouts been sent out inquiring of outlying settlers as to the prospect of a clear road? Had not information come in that James was abroad, had been seen in a dozen different places in the district? Had not the belief become general that the Sp.a.w.n City trail was being carefully watched, and even patrolled, by this common enemy? Everybody knew that these things were so. The whole of this stage business was simply flying in the face of Providence.

And amidst all the comment and talk Minky served the requirements of his customers, wrapped in sphinx-like reserve. His geniality never failed him. He had a pleasant word for everybody. And at every gibe, at every warning, he beamed and nodded, but otherwise could not be drawn into controversy. One remark, and one only, had he for all and sundry who chose him as a b.u.t.t for their pleasantries.

"Wal," he declared easily, "if I ladled out good United States currency, to feed that b.u.m tough James an' his crew o' hawks, seems to me its findin' its way home right smart."

It was quite true. He stood to win in every direction. Sooner or later every cent of money he had paid out in the purchase of gold would find its way back to him, and go to help swell the fortune which was the effort of his life. These men had not the commercial instinct of Minky. And, furthermore, his meeting at night with the gambler, and its resulting compact, was still a secret.

The popular laugh was for the moment against him, but he continued to smile. And he knew that his smile would last the longer. He would still be smiling when even the ghost of their laugh had been laid to rest.

Sore heads were no deterrent next morning. Pillows were deserted at an early hour. And those who had found it convenient to pa.s.s the brief remainder of the night in their heavy, clay-soiled boots had the advantage of breakfasting at the first hot rush of Birdie's ministrations. And Birdie, with the understanding of her kind, had bestowed special attention upon the quant.i.ty and quality of the coffee, leaving the solid side of the meal almost unconsidered. It was her duty to sooth parching throats, and she knew her duty.

It was a glorious morning. The sun rose radiant in a cloudless sky.

The air was still, so still. But the mountain chill began to give way from the first moment that the great arc of daylight lifted its dazzling crown above the horizon. The quiet of the morning was perfect. It almost seemed as if Nature itself had hushed to an expectant silence. The woe of the night-prowling coyote at the sight of the dawn found no voice. The frogs upon the creek had not yet begun their morning song. Even the camp dogs, whose ceaseless "yap" made hideous all their waking hours, for some subtle reason moved about in quest of their morning meal as though their success depended upon the stealth of their movements.

Blear-eyed men appeared in their doorways half awake, and only just recovering from their overnight orgy. They stood for some moments voiceless and thoughtful. Then the concentration upon the store began.

It was strange to look upon. It was an almost simultaneous movement.

These half-dazed, wholly sick creatures moved with the precision of a universally impelling force. The store might have been one huge magnet--perhaps it was--and these dejected early risers mere atoms of steel.

But the store reached, that wonderfully revivifying hair of the tail, etc., partaken of, and a rapid change supervened. Quarts of coffee and some trifling solid further stimulated jaded energies, and in less than an hour the memory that the day was Wednesday, and that the gold-stage was to set out upon its eventful journey, became the chief thought in every mind. Curiosity and excitement ran riot, and questions flew from lip to lip. How had Minky provided for the safeguarding of his gold? Had he arranged for an adequate escort? To whom was the gold to be entrusted?

The store was full of men. The veranda overflowed with them. There were men of almost every nationality--from half-breed Mexicans, popularly dubbed "gorl-durned Dagos," to the stolid Briton, the virile New Yorker, the square-headed Teuton, the lithe, graceful prairie man from the Southern States. But the usual noisy discussion of the world's affairs, as viewed from the hidden valley in which lay Suffering Creek, had no vital interest just now. And, after the first rush of burning questions, a hush fell upon the a.s.sembly, and it quickly composed itself, in various att.i.tudes and positions of advantage, to await, in what patience it could, the satisfying of its curiosity.

Soon the hush became oppressive. It almost became a burden. Men stirred uneasily under it; they chafed. And at last Joe Brand found himself voicing something of the feelings of everybody. He spoke in a whisper which, for the life of him, he could not have raised to full voice. He was standing next to White, and he took him confidentially by the shoulder and spoke, leaning over till his lips were on a level with his ear.

"I allow funerals is joyous things an' n.i.g.g.e.r lynchin's is real comic," he declared hoa.r.s.ely. "But fer real rollickin' merriment I never see the equal o' this yer gatherin'. I sure don't think it 'ud damp things any ef I was to give 'em a Doxology."

The miner responded with a pensive smile.

"Mebbe you're right 'bout funerals an' n.i.g.g.e.r lynchin's," he whispered back, "but they's jest a matter o' livin' an' dyin'. Y'see, Minky's gamblin' sixty thousand dollars o' good red gold."

Brand nodded. And somehow he appreciated the point and became easier.

Later on Minky appeared in the store, and almost automatically every eye was turned expectantly upon him. But he had only come to ascertain if Wild Bill was about.