The Mesa Trail Read online

  CHAPTER VII--THADY SHEA HAS A VISITOR

  Thady Shea was on his way to Number Sixteen. The sheriff was on his wayto Silver City with Mrs. Crump, Gilbert, and Lewis. In the ordinarycourse of events, Thady Shea would have encountered them in the canonnorth of No Agua. The ordinary course of events did not obtain, however,because of Ben Aimes.

  Having sustained nothing worse than a broken wrist and a sore head, BenAimes upon being revived at once telephoned the store and post office atNo Agua to stop Thady Shea. No Agua was the jumping-off place at theedge of the bad lands, and it was nothing but a long frame building fromwhich radiated all the canon trails to north and west.

  When Shea arrived, he found a reception committee awaiting him in theshape of a dozen men, most of whom were mounted upon horses or mules asif they had convened for a Sunday holiday. Shea needed no informationupon the subject of his reception. He had previously observed thetelephone wires and had drawn his own conclusions. As he drew near to NoAgua he was the recipient of a bullet that finished off the windshieldand sent a sliver of glass slithering across his forehead.

  What next happened was wild and incoherent in all subsequent reports.Shea cared absolutely nothing for results, so long as he got through.When he found his path barred by mounted men, he opened up the throttlewide, shut his eyes, and gripped hard to the wheel. General opinion wasthat the first bullet had killed him and that the car was running wild;for blood was trickling over his face from his slashed brow, and he wasa fearsome sight.

  The dust-white flivver smashed head-on into the mass of men and horses.It paused as though for breath, then went ahead. The radiator wasboiling over; and when that red-hot projectile began to bore its way,things happened. The steam seared into a big mule, and the muleinstantly began to plunge and kick. Two horses went down and the flivverclimbed over them and their riders. A vaquero was pitched across thehood and with screams of anguish managed to leap away to earth. A horsesat on the right-hand fender and toppled over upon his rider as the carwent ahead.

  After a moment Thady Shea opened his eyes and looked back upon a sceneof wonderful confusion. Men and horses strewed the ground or wereplunging in all directions. With a sigh of relief Thady Shea found thathe was still going forward; so, in order to avoid the bullets that cameswarming and buzzing after him, he aimed for the nearest canon, whichwas not his proper road at all, and followed the trail blindly.

  An hour later this trail petered out at an abandoned mine in the badlands. With a vague general idea of his directions, Shea went plungingoff through the sand, winding his way past huge, eroded masses and amidweird pinnacles of wind-blown rock. Somewhere past noon he was in thelava beds, and was apprised of the fact by his tires blowing out one byone.

  Lack of pneumatic cushions did not trouble Shea in the least. Hepunished the poor flivver unmercifully, and by the eternal miracle offlivvers the car kept going. Shea climbed rocky masses, shoved throughsand, rolled over jutty fields of volcanic rock, and when the afternoonwas half gone, came upon automobile tracks. He had found his road atlast. From the tracks, he could tell that the sheriff's automobile hadlately gone that way--but in the direction of Silver City.

  When, late in the afternoon, Shea came to Number Sixteen, it wasdeserted. Upon the door of the shack which Mrs. Crump had occupied waspinned a brief note. It read:

  Thady: Set rite here till I get back. We are pinched but not for long. My gun is over my bunk. Set tite. Yours,

  ---- M. CRUMP.

  Methodically, Shea went to the other shack and began to wash the driedblood from his face, plastering the cut on his brow.

  In front of him he propped the note and studied it, tried to readbetween the lines. It had been written, he thought grimly, as a forlornhope, a desperate chance that Thady Shea might yet save the day. Mrs.Crump had not been aware of his culpability; or, if she had been awareof it, she had mercifully indulged in no recriminations.

  "Well, I'm here," said Shea, then glanced quickly around. The sound ofhis voice in that solitude was startling.

  He felt in no mood for theatricalisms, and that morning he had givenvent to none; but now, when he tried to express himself otherwise,homely words failed him. So long had he mantled himself in thebraggadocio rhetoric and rounded phrases of The Profession, that hecould not rid himself of the bluff which had bolstered up his years ofmiserable failure. Therefore, he held his peace and tried to face factssquarely. The lesson of primitive silence was another thing that helearned in this strange land.

  Now, for the first time, he became aware that he had not come offundamaged that morning. His body was bruised, his face and head weremuch cut about by hard knuckles. Also, he had not eaten since theprevious night, and hunger was beginning to ride him. So he tooktemporary possession of Mrs. Crump's shack and began to prepare a meal.

  The single room of the shack was fairly large, since it had to serve notonly as living quarters for Mrs. Crump, but as a dining room for allhands. The walls were rough and bare; like the bunk in the corner, theywere formed from hewn timbers, unchinked. Gilbert had knocked together abig mess table; the seats were puncheon stools; in the lean-to adjoiningwas the kitchen, consisting of a small sheet-iron stove, frying pan, anda kettle. And yet, about this primitive bareness Mrs. Crump hadcontrived to throw a fragrance of femininity--a rag of curtain to theunglazed window, a faded photograph of the late departed Crump, abattered clock decorated by a scarlet cactus flower, an ancient, white,mended lace counterpane that covered her bunk. And upon the table, a redcloth that was always spick and span. Only a Mrs. Crump would havebothered to bring such tag ends of womanly presence into this bare andrugged spot in the wilderness.

  Contemplating these things, Thady Shea sighed; he sighed at thought ofMehitabel Crump, doomed to live in such a place, destitute of all thingsher woman's heart must have craved. He ceased his sighing, suddenlyaware that his bacon was burned.

  Thady Shea knew more about prospecting for tungsten than he did aboutcooking. His coffee was miserable and wretched in spirit. His bacon wasbrown and hard as wood. Trying to get the beans warmed throughout, heforgot to stir them until unpleasantly reminded of his remissness.However, by the time he had to light the oil lamp in order to see hisfood, he had managed to make a fair meal, in quantity if not in quality.

  Afterward, he filled his pipe and sat in the doorway, staring upon theempurpled masses of the mountains that were piled into the evening sky,and trying to conclude what he must do next.

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

  He was slightly surprised at his own lack of feeling in regard to themen 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 leaveNumber Sixteen until it was safe to do so; until he was certain theplace was secure. Therefore, if any officers appeared, a fight mustensue. Consequences did not matter. Thady Shea was quite willing to faceany ultimate dispensation of justice so long as he kept Number Sixteenintact for Mrs. Crump.

  "I must make up for what I've done," he reflected. "Then I can go. I ama failure, a sodden wreck upon the shoals of self. Once let myreparation be established, and I shall go forth into the world again toseek the dregs of fortune with the bent diviner's rod of Thespianmimicry."

  He broke short off, smiling at his own language.

  Shea knew inwardly that the old life was gone from him forever. Helooked up at the looming mountains and felt a sudden savage joy inhimself; a joy that frightened him, so primitive and sweeping was it. Hehad fought with men--had conquered them! In a measure he was done withall self-recrimination for his weakness and failure. Those were thingsof the past. He would not be weak again! Remorse fell away from him, andpeace 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. Sheaalready knew that Mackintavers et. al. were not desirous of getting intocourt unless they had an ironclad hold upon the other fellow; this wasproven by Mrs. Crump's having "shot up" Dorales with impunity. If theproceedings of the past twenty-four hours were given a public airing,sundry matters might require explanations which would be uncomfortablefor Mackintavers.

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

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

  The following morning, for the first time in the weeks since Mrs. Crumphad picked him up, Thady Shea relaxed in blissful indolence. He had noidea of how the vein or veins of strontianite should be worked. Therewas little to do about the cabin. So he climbed the long hogback andsettled down to smoke and watch the road that wound down from the canontoward the lava beds, the road that led into the world.

  The day passed idly and uneventful. With its passing, Shea felt moreassured that his theory was correct; that he was not to be arrested. Soconvinced of this was he, that when, toward sunset, he discerned a dustystreak betokening the approach of an automobile, he made certain thatMrs. Crump was returning.

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

  Somewhat to his surprise and uneasiness, as the approaching flivver drewup the canon Shea could not recognize the gigantic figure of MehitabelCrump aboard. He saw only three men in the car, and he knew none ofthem. Two in the rear seat were evidently natives; from the dirty andheavily laden appearance of the car, Shea deduced that these men hadcome upon no errand of the law. They seemed, rather, to be prospectorsor 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 onthe hillside above, waved a hand and started upward. The two nativesclimbed out and began to unstrap bundles.

  As the visitor came near to him, Shea saw that the man was powerfullybuilt, roughly dressed, and possessed striking gray eyes beneath blackbrows and hair.

  "Howdy, old-timer!" greeted the new arrival, pausing with outstretchedhand and a frank smile. "My name's Logan, Tom Logan. We got lost over inthe lava beds and struck your auto tracks. We're prospecting. You don'tmind 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 beyondthe halted car. "You see that big rock down the valley? Instruct yourcomrades to make camp at that point or below it."

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

  "Eh, partner? You're not joking?"

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

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

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

  For a moment Logan met the gravely firm gaze of Shea, then turned andlifted his hands to his mouth. He shouted something in the patois, towhich the two natives waved assent. They turned their car and took it tothe 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 yourname."

  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 asmile. "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, andthat 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 againstliquor myself. You've sure become famous in this part of the country!"

  Thady Shea did not altogether like the swarthy features and the oddcontrast between steely eyes and coarse black hair, but he did likeapplause. He took the stranger down to the shacks and when Logan setabout cooking an excellent dinner, Shea was delighted.

  Over their meal the two men conversed at length, chiefly on the subjectof mining. Tom Logan asked no questions about Number Sixteen, but heformed the private opinion that Thady Shea was earnest, upright, and asimpleton. Two thirds of this diagnosis was correct. The other third wasdestined 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 forgold hereabouts, of course. But d'you know, Shea, the old prospectingbusiness is changed? Yes, it is. Nowadays two thirds of the prospectorsturn up their noses at gold. There are new things in the field, thingsthat pay better than gold.

  "Platinum, for instance; or tungsten or manganese. Take my own case--I'mone of a dozen men sent out by a big New York chemical house. I'm afterstrontium. It comes in two forms, celestite and strontianite. Celestitebrings about twenty dollars a ton at seaboard; but strontianite, whenconverted into nitrates, brings five hundred. The average old-timeprospector hasn't the chemical knowledge to find such things as those."

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

  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 ofminerals.

  Logan displayed a cordial and friendly interest, and asked to seesamples. Shea found one or two and set them forth, telling what he knewof the veins. The interest of the visitor grew and waxed enthusiastic.Logan examined the samples closely, and then his gray eyes suddenlystruck up at Shea.

  "Look here!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "Would you, provided the veins andso forth run as you describe them, accept ten thousand dollars cash foryour 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'spurposes admirably. We might never find another like it. Ten thousand isnot a large offer, but it would be a year or more before you'd begin topull money out of the property. Say yes, and I'll examine the locationto-morrow; if it's what you say, I'll buy your right and interest in theproperty, sign the papers, and before to-morrow night you'll cash mycheck."

  Shea rose to his feet. He wanted to get away from the influence of thisman'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 notthe 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'scompany. With that sum, she could set trucks at work hauling ore to therailroad. With that sum, she cou
ld do--anything!

  It never occurred to him that he might keep the money for himself; itnever 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 inconnection with Number Sixteen; he had not mentally placed hispartnership with Mrs. Crump upon any financial basis. It was because ofthis very simplicity of thought that Mrs. Crump had felt drawn to him.It was because of this, too, that she had instructed Coravel Tio torecord the entire property in the name of Thady Shea, in order tocamouflage her ownership from the many eyes of Sandy Mackintavers. Butthis Shea did not know.

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

  Ten thousand dollars--for Mrs. Crump! Never had Thady Shea visioned somuch money all in one lump. Nor did he now vision it as his own.

  Shea did not know that he was technically and legally the owner ofNumber Sixteen. But the fact was on record, and Tom Logan knew itperfectly well. Back in the shack, under the oil lamp, Logan was alreadychuckling over the cleverly drawn papers which would make him the soleowner of Number Sixteen--for the comparatively unimportant sum of tenthousand dollars! He had persuaded Sandy Mackintavers to gamble thatsum, to play it as a table stake.