Read Copper Streak Trail Page 14


  CHAPTER XIV

  Mr. Johnson was rudely wakened from his slumbers by a violent hand uponhis shoulder. Opening his eyes, he smiled up into the scowling face ofUndersheriff Barton.

  "Good-morning, sheriff," he said, and sat up, yawning.

  The sun was shining brightly. Mr. Johnson reached for his trousers andyawned again.

  The scandalized sheriff was unable to reply. He had been summoned bypassers-by, who, hearing the turbulent clamor for breakfast made by theneglected prisoners, had hastened to give the alarm. He had found thejailer tightly bound, almost choked by his gag, suffering so cruelly fromcramps that he could not get up when released, and barely able to utterthe word "Johnson."

  Acting on that hint, Barton had rushed up-stairs, ignoring the shouts ofhis mutinous prisoners as he went through the second-floor corridor, tofind on the third floor an opened cell, with a bunch of keys hanging inthe door, the rope and saw upon the table, Mr. Johnson's neatly foldedclothing on the chair, and Mr. Johnson peacefully asleep. The sheriffpointed to the rope and saw, and choked, spluttering inarticulate noises.Mr. Johnson suspended dressing operations and patted him on the back.

  "There, there!" he crooned benevolently. "Take it easy. What's thetrouble? I hate to see you all worked up like this, for you was suremighty white to me yesterday. Nicest jail I ever was in. But there was athundering racket downstairs last night. I ain't complainin' none--Iwouldn't be that ungrateful, after all you done for me. But I didn't geta good night's rest. Wish you'd put me in another cell to-night. Therewas folks droppin' in here at all hours of the night, pesterin' me.I didn't sleep good at all."

  "Dropping in? What in hell do you mean?" gurgled the sheriff, stillpointing to rope and saw.

  "Why, sheriff, what's the matter? Aren't you a little mite petulant thisA.M.? What have I done that you should be so short to me?"

  "That's what I want to know. What have you been doing here?"

  "I ain't been doing nothin', I tell you--except stayin' here, where Ibelong," said Pete virtuously.

  His eye followed the sheriff's pointing finger, and rested, without aqualm, on the evidence. The sheriff laid a trembling hand on the coiledrope. "How'd you get this in, damn you?"

  "That rope? Oh, a fellow shoved it through the bars. Wanted me to saw myway out and go with him, I reckon. I didn't want to argue with him, so Ijust took it and didn't let on I wasn't comin'. Wasn't that right? Why,I thought you'd be pleased! I couldn't have any way of knowin' that you'dtake it like this."

  "Shoved it in through a third-story window?"

  Pete's ingenuous face took on an injured look. "I reckon maybe he stoodon his tip-toes," he admitted.

  "Who was it?"

  "I don't know," said Pete truthfully. "He didn't speak and I didn't seehim. Maybe he didn't want me to break jail; but I thought, seein' the sawand all, he had some such idea in mind."

  "Did he bring the keys, too?"

  "Oh, no--that was another man entirely. He came a little later. And hesure wanted me to quit jail; because he said so. But I wouldn't go,sheriff. I thought you wouldn't like it. Say, you ought to sit down,feller. You're going to have apoplexy one of these days, sure as you're afoot high!"

  "You come downstairs with me," said the angry Barton. "I'll get at thebottom of this or I'll have your heart out of you."

  "All right, sheriff. Just you wait till I get dressed." Peter lacedhis shoes, put on his hat, and laid tie, coat, and vest negligentlyacross the hollow of his arm. "I can't do my tie good unless I got alooking-glass," he explained, and paused to light a cigar. "Have one,sheriff," he said with hospitable urgency.

  "Get out of here!" shouted the enraged officer.

  Pete tripped light-footed down the stairs. At the stairfoot the sheriffpaused. In the cell directly opposite were two bruised and tatteredinmates where there should have been but one, and that one undismantled.The sheriff surveyed the wreckage within. His jaw dropped; his face wentred to the hair; his lip trembled as he pointed to the larger of the tworoommates, who was, beyond doubting, Amos Poole--or some remainder ofhim.

  "How did that man get here?" demanded the sheriff in a cracked andhorrified voice.

  "Him? Oh, I throwed him in there!" said Pete lightly. "That's the man whobrought me the keys and pestered me to go away with him. Say, sheriff,better watch out! He told me he had a gun, and that he had the jailertied and gagged."

  "The damned skunk didn't have no gun! All he had was a flashlight, andI broke that over his head. But he tole me the same story about thejailer--all except the gun." This testimony was volunteered by Poole'scellmate.

  Peter removed his cigar and looked at the "damned skunk" more closely.

  "Why, if it ain't Mr. Poole!" he said.

  "Sure, it's Poole. What in hell does he mean, then--swearin' you intojail and then breakin' you out?"

  "Hadn't you better ask him?" said Peter, very reasonably. "You come ondown to the office, sheriff. I want you to get at the bottom of this orhave the heart out of some one." He rolled a dancing eye at Poole withthe word, and Poole shrank before it.

  "Breakfast! Bring us our breakfast!" bawled the prisoners. "Breakfast!"

  The sheriff dealt leniently with the uproar, realizing that these werebut weakling folk and, under the influence of excitement, hardlyresponsible.

  "Brooks has been tied up all night, and is all but dead. I'll get yousomething as soon as I can," he said, "on condition that you stop thathullabaloo at once. Johnson, come down to the office."

  He telephoned a hurry call to a restaurant, Brooks, the jailer, beingplainly incapable of furnishing breakfast. Then he turned to Pete.

  "What is this, Johnson? A plant?"

  Pete's nose quivered.

  "Sure! It was a plant from the first. The Pooles were hired to set uponme. This one was sent, masked, to tell me to break out. Then, as I figureit, I was to be betrayed back again, to get two or three years in the penfor breaking jail. Nice little scheme!"

  "Who did it? For Poole, if you're not lying, was only a tool."

  "Sheriff," said Pete, "pass your hand through my hair and feel there, andlook at my face. See any scars? Quite a lot of 'em? And all in front? Menlike me don't have to lie. They pay for what they break. You go back upthere and get after Poole. He'll tell you. Any man that will do what hedid to me, for money, will squeal on his employer. Sure!"

  Overhead the hammering and shouting broke out afresh.

  "There," said the sheriff regretfully; "now I'll have to make thosefellows go without anything to eat till dinner-time."

  "Sheriff," said Pete, "you've been mighty square with me. Now I want youshould do me one more favor. It will be the last one; for I shan't bewith you long. Give those boys their breakfast. I got 'em into this. I'llpay for it, and take it mighty kindly of you, besides."

  "Oh, all right!" growled the sheriff, secretly relieved.

  "One thing more, brother: I think your jailer was in this--but that'syour business. Anyhow, Poole knew which key opened my door, and he didn'tknow the others. Of course, he may have forced your jailer to tell himthat. But Poole didn't strike me as being up to any bold enterpriseunless it was cut-and-dried."

  The sheriff departed, leaving Johnson unguarded in the office. In tenminutes he was back.

  "All right," he nodded. "He confessed--whimpering hard. Brooks was in it.I've got him locked up. Nice doings, this is!"

  "Mitchell?"

  "Yes. I wouldn't have thought it of him. What was the reason?"

  "There is never but one reason. Money.--Who's this?"

  It was Mr. Boland, attended by Mr. Ferdie Sedgwick, both sadly disheveledand bearing marks of a sleepless night. Francis Charles spoke hurriedlyto the sheriff.

  "Oh, I say, Barton! McClintock will go bail for this man Johnson. Ferdieand I would, but we're not taxpayers in the county. Come over to theIroquois, won't you?"

  "Boland," said the sheriff solemnly, "take this scoundrel out of my jail!Don't you ever let him step foot in here again. There won't
be any bail;but he must appear before His Honor later to-day for the formal dismissalof the case. Take him away! If you can possibly do so, ship him out oftown at once."

  Francis Charles winked at Peter as they went down the steps.

  "So it was you last night?" said Peter. "Thanks to you. I'll do as muchfor you sometime."

  "Thank us both. This is my friend Sedgwick, who was to have been ourchauffeur." The two gentlemen bowed, grinning joyfully. "My name'sBoland, and I'm to be your first stockholder. Miss Selden told me aboutyou--which is my certificate of character. Come over to the hotel and seeOld McClintock. Miss Selden is there too. She bawled him out about NephewStan last night. Regular old-fashioned wigging! And now she has the oldgentleman eating from her hand. Say, how about this Stanley thing,anyway? Any good?"

  "Son," said Pete, "Stanley is a regular person."

  Boland's face clouded.

  "Well, I'm going out with you and have a good look at him," he saidgloomily. "If I'm not satisfied with him, I'll refuse my consent. AndI'll look at your mine--if you've got any mine. They used to say thatwhen a man drinks of the waters of the Hassayampa, he can never tell thetruth again. And you're from Arizona."

  Pete stole a shrewd look at the young man's face.

  "There is another old saying about the Hassayampa, son," he said kindly,"with even more truth to it than in that old _dicho_. They say thatwhoever drinks of the waters of the Hassayampa must come to drink again."

  He bent his brows at Francis Charles.

  "Good guess," admitted Boland, answering the look. "I've never been toArizona, but I've sampled the Pecos and the Rio Grande; and I must goback 'Where the flyin'-fishes play on the road to Mandalay, where thedawn comes up like thunder'--Oh, gee! That's my real reason. I supposethat silly girl and your picturesque pardner will marry, anyhow, even ifI disapprove--precious pair they'll make! And if I take a squint at thecopper proposition, it will be mostly in Ferdie's interest--Ferdie is thecapitalist, comparatively speaking; but he can't tear himself away fromlittle old N'Yawk. This is his first trip West--here in Vesper. Myself,I've got only two coppers to clink together--or maybe three. We're ratheroverlooking Ferdie, don't you think? Mustn't do that. Might withdraw hisbackin'. Ferdie, speak up pretty for the gennulmun!"

  "Oh, don't mind me, Mr. Johnson," said Sedgwick cheerfully. "I'm used tohearin' Boland hog the conversation, and trottin' to keep up with him.Glad to be seen on the street with him. Gives one a standing, you know.But, I say, old chappie, why didn't you come last night? Deuced anxious,we were! Thought you missed the way, or slid down your rope and gotnabbed again, maybe. No end of a funk I was in, not being used tolawbreakin', except by advice of counsel. And we felt a certain delicacyabout inquiring about you this morning, you know--until we heard aboutthe big ructions at the jail. Come over to McClintock's rooms--can'tyou?--where we'll be all together, and tell us about it--so you won'thave to tell it but the one time."

  "No, sir," said Pete decidedly. "I get my breakfast first, and a largeshave. Got to do credit to Stan. Then I'll go with you. Big mistake,though. Story like this gets better after bein' told a few times. I couldmake quite a tale of this, with a little practice."