CHAPTER VIII
THE HOSPITALITY OF NEW MEXICO
Clarkeville was even smaller than the boys had imagined it. Thelittle depot was far more pretentious than any other building insight. Beyond this was a wide and exceedingly dusty street. On thefar side of this unpaved roadway was a row of one- and two-storyframe buildings. Here and there was a cheaper structure of littleelse but corrugated iron sheets, while to the left, where a similarstreet crossed the railroad at right angles, there was a one-storycement building proudly labeled "Bank." Both streets suddenlydisappeared in a sandy, treeless plain.
Wooden awnings in front of the buildings extended over the sidewalk.At the edge of these awnings were a few teams and many saddledhorses, some of them hitched to posts, and others standing with theirbridle reins dropped to the ground. Not many persons were in sight.The deep and cloudless blue sky was brilliant with the noonday sunwhile a hot breezeless haze hung over all.
The Limited had made its usual daily pause and then to the surpriseof the agent had run down beyond the water tank with one car,switched it back onto the one siding until it stood opposite themusty smelling freight shed, and, quickly coupling up again, hadgone.
Ned and Alan had alighted when the train stopped. Around them theboys could detect the first signs of the real West. At one end ofthe station a big-hatted Mexican squatted by a hot tamale can.Among others idling near were some high-heeled and sombrero-toppedcow-boys, whose easy and loose clothing made Alan envious at once.Even the depot attendants, with their belts and loosely knottedneckerchiefs, seemed gayer and freer than their brother laborersback in the East.
With coats off and collars loosened the two boys filled their lungswith the tonic air, for, in spite of the heat, a certain drynessseemed to give life and vigor to the atmosphere.
"There it is, Alan," exclaimed Ned finally, pointing away to thenorth and the distant mountains, "beyond those peaks and somewhereunder that sapphire sky is our land of promise. We'll be in it in afew days."
The brilliant sky, the exhilarating air and the new life about themfilled both boys with enthusiasm.
"Whoopee!" almost shouted Alan finally, throwing out his arms as ifto embrace his friend. "All we need is an Indian or two and I guesswe'd be out West for sure."
"You may not be so anxious to see them before we start back,"remarked Ned. "Anyway, I promise you enough of them in thiscountry."
With the departure of the train, the two boys became the center ofsome attention. Strangers were not plentiful in Clarkeville, andwhen the news spread that a special car was standing behind thefreight shed on the far side of the tracks there was an instant rushof idlers in that direction. Ned and Alan returned with them andsmiling good-naturedly right and left took stand at the forward carsteps.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, but so anxious had theboys become in the last stage of their journey that they had orderedElmer to put off the noonday meal until they reached Clarkeville.The colored boy, troubled over the notion of a good dinner spoiling,was waiting on the car platform for it chance to get his "bosses,"as he delighted to call them, into the car.
Before he could do so, and while the two chums were answering idlequestions as to whether they were a "show," Ned's quick eye caughtsight of a more important personage. A middle-aged man, not quiteso western in appearance as the others, but plainly as much at homein the saddle, rode up with a clatter and sprang from his pony.
Ned advanced quickly, spurred on by the new arrival's quick "Howdy,strangers!"
"My name is Ned Napier," explained the lad, "and this is my friend,Alan Hope."
The rider held out his hand.
"I'm Curt Bradley, and I'm the mayor of this town," he replied byway of introduction.
"Glad to meet you," answered Ned. "You've just saved me the troubleof looking you up, for that would have been my first business."
"Not to be over cur'ous," laughed the Mayor as his eyes took in thebig expensive car and then returned to the two boys, "might Iinquire the nature o' yer business."
Ned laughed.
"Certainly," he answered, "but come aboard first. Elmer," he saidto the waiting cook, waiter and porter, "another plate for Mr.Bradley."
And in spite of the wholesome-looking but bronzed Mr. Bradley'sprotest that gentleman was soon sitting with the boys before whatwas perhaps the most elaborate meal he had ever eaten. His protestcame from the fact that he had already had his dinner, but the freshfruit and vegetables and spring chicken were temptations too strongfor him.
When Ned saw that their new acquaintance was at his ease and rapidlybecoming satisfied he lost no time in coming to the point.
"Our visit here, Mr. Bradley, is, in part, a secret. I hope youwill accept my assurance, however, that it can in no way operateagainst or damage your town or its residents or the country roundabout. I want your assistance."
"Ye can hev that," came the quick answer, "and if your lay is noone's business, why, it ain't none o' ours."
"I'm glad to hear that," answered Ned. "But there may be some whowill not be so considerate."
"When I pass the word I guess they'll all think about like me,"interrupted the Clarkeville official. "Ye jest tell me what it isyou want."
"First I'll explain to you that in the other part of this car wehave the material to make a dirigible balloon."
"A what!" exclaimed the Mayor, his mouth full of chicken.
"A balloon that you can guide through the air."
Curt Bradley dropped his knife.
"One o' them flyin' machines?"
"Exactly."
"And kin we all see it fly?"
"Certainly," answered Ned, "if you will just see that no oneinterferes with us. I shall be glad in time to show you, I hope,the most perfect dirigible balloon ever put together and to explainjust how it is to be operated. But in a few days, when it is ready,we are going to sail away on business that is our own. And whenthat time comes curiosity must stop. If anyone attempts toascertain where we are going or what we mean to do I sound warningnow that we will do all we can to prove to him that it is none ofhis business."
The Mayor looked at them in surprise.
"Why," he began, "I suppose ye must be on a mighty partic'lar job.Are you--?"
"There!" interrupted Ned. "You see you are beginning to askquestions. Since we can't answer them we'd rather not hear them."
"Right," exclaimed the Mayor. "Give me yer word it's all fair andsquare and that ye ain't violatin' no laws and I'll give ye my wordthey won't be no more questions asked."
"I'm glad to do that," answered Ned, "we want certain accommodationsfor which we are willing to pay. But we want the confidence ofClarkeville that we are all right, even if we are a little young."
"Clarkeville is yours," laughed the Mayor, getting up from thetable, "and now what do ye want first?"
In another hour the two boys, guided by Mayor Bradley, had examinedthe entire settlement. A little way down the railroad track theyfound a rather ramshackle building, mostly tin roof, and behind it alarge plot of ground surrounded with a high corral or fence. Thesign read "Buck's Corral." In the East it would have been called alivery stable. The air navigators engaged the place at five dollarsa day for a week or more, and put a half dozen Mexican laborers atwork removing the few horses and cleaning out the building andcorral. The proprietor, who owned one of the few wagons in thetown, they also hired as a drayman at $2.50 a day for himself andteam.
Work began at once. Through Mayor Bradley three reliable men wereemployed as watchmen, and these, in eight-hour shifts, undertook theduty of seeing that nothing in the corral was molested in theabsence of Ned and Alan. Then the work of transporting materialbegan, the first task being the removal of the five large generatingtanks.
Alan had been thoughtful enough to foresee the need of specialclothing, and it was not long before he and Ned and even ElmerGrissom were enjoying the freedom of wide-brimmed hats, stoutshirts, thick-soled shoes, and belts.
Elmer's duty was the constantcare of the Placida, which he only left on special permission. Nedand Alan were free to devote themselves wholly to the agreeable andlong anticipated task of at last "getting ready."
Help was easily hired and with Buck's wagon in service thewide-opened doors of the baggage car seemed to give out more boxes,crates and bundles than a full freight car. When strangers were onthe car the colored boy stood like a sentinel over the black casewhich was made less conspicuous by being covered with a blanket.And his constant injunction "No smokin', sah," soon won him asobriquet, Mexicans and cow-boys alike calling him "Smoky."
Elmer was relieved from picket duty in time to prepare an extrasupper to which Mayor Bradley, Buck, and Jack Jellup, the townmarshal, were invited. It was extra work for "Smoky," who took hisnew name with a mild protest; but when he called the crew to themeal it was apparent that he harbored no resentment. Jack and Bucktook their seats gingerly, but the boys soon made all at home.
"There ain't agoin' to be no pay took fur this day's work," suddenlyexclaimed Buck as he finished a generous portion of cold sliced hamand potato salad.
The boys laughed in protest.
"I ain't seen real food in ten years," continued Buck, "and what Isaid goes. This meal's worth a week's work to me."
"All I got to say, young uns," interrupted Jack Jellup, the marshal,"is that this 'ere town is yours."
Jack's idea of hospitality was an invitation to the boys to visitthe town saloons as his guest, but Ned arid Alan laughed and thankedhim, pleading weariness as a reason for declining. The finaltribute of the three guests, however, before they left, was to pushthe Placida along with crowbars until it was free of the freighthouse and stood where the evening breeze could freely find its waythrough the windows. Then with hearty "buenos noches," ("Goodnight") and promises to see that every one was on hand early in themorning, they left.
For some time Ned, Alan and Elmer sat in camp chairs on the carplatform reveling in the glorious starlit night. From somewhere inthe little town came the sound of low singing and a Spanish airplayed on the mandolin. It was all so different from the life theboys had known that it seemed like a dream. And when their realdreams did come it was of the not far distant Tunit Chas.