*CHAPTER V*
*A TRIMMER TRIMMED*
About ten o'clock that night Murphy and Tex neared the station andstopped short at the former's sudden ejaculation.
"Th' switch is open," he said. "Not that anythin' serious might happen,unless th' engineer went blind; but either av them would have plenty tosay about it. Trust 'em for that. An' tomorrow is Overton's trickeast-bound. He's worse than Casey. Wait here a bit," and thesection-boss went over, threw the switch, and returned.
Soon they stopped again at the station to say good night to each other.Murphy seemed a little constrained and worried and soon gave the reasonfor it.
"Tex," he said in a low voice, "yer takin' sides with th' weakest party,an' yer takin' 'em fast an' open. Right now yer bein' weighed an'discussed, an' to no profit to yerself. I can see that yer a man thatwill go his own way--but if th' hotel gets unpleasant an' tirin', yermore than welcome in my shanty. 'Tis only an old box car off itswheels, but there's a bunk in it for ye any time ye want to use it.Tread easy now, an' keep yer two eyes open; an' while I'm willin' toback ye up, I daren't do it unless it's a matter av life an' death. I'mIrish, an' so is Costigan. There's a strong feelin' out here ag'in'us--an' when a mob starts not even wimmin an' childer are safe.Costigan has both, an' there's th' lass, as well. I've urged Mike tosend his family back along th' line somewhere, but his wife says _no_.She's foolish, no doubt, but I say, God bless such wimmin."
"She's not foolish," replied Tex with conviction. "She's wise, riskin'herself mebby, on a long chance. While she stays here Costigan will usea lot of discretion--if she goes, he might air his opinions too much, orget drunk and leave her a widow. I'll do what I can to stave offtrouble, even to eatin' a little dirt; but, Tim, I'd like nothing betterthan to send for a few friends an' let things take their natural course.Every time I look at that nephew I fair itch to strangle him. It can'tbe possible that Miss Saunders gives him any encouragement? I'm muchobliged about yore offer. I'd take it up right now except that it wouldcause a lot of talk an' thinkin'. Here, you better hand me two dollarsfor my day's work--there ain't no use lyin' about anythin' if th' truthwill serve. I'll return it th' next time I see you."
"Th' lass won't look at that scut. He follers her around like a dog,"Murphy growled, and then a grin came to his face as he dug into hispocket. "Here. Yer overpaid, but I should 'a' dickered with ye beforeI let ye go to work."
"Thanks, boss," chuckled Tex. "You'll need me tomorrow, for th' wirestringin'?"
"Yer fired!" answered Murphy, his voice rising and changing in timbre."Yer a loafin', windy, clumsy, bunglin' no-account. By rights thatought to make ye mad. Does it?"
Tex could not fail to read the answer he was expected to make, for itlay in the section-boss' tones; and he thought that he had seensomething move around the corner of the station. He stepped on the toeof one of his companion's boots to acknowledge the warning.
"Am I?" he demanded, angrily. "Yo're so d--d used to bossin' Irishloafers that you don't know a good man when you see one. You don't haveto fire me, you Mick! I'm quittin', an' you can go to h--l!"
Murphy's arm stopped in mid-air as Tex's gun leaped from its sheath.
"You checked it just in time," snapped Tex. "Any more of that an' I'llblow you wide open. Turn around an' hoof it to yore sty!"
Murphy, strangling a chuckle, backed warily away. "If ye was as handywith tools as ye are with that d--d gun--" he growled. "'Tis lucky forye that ye have it!"
"This is my tool," retorted Tex. "Shut up an' get out before you makeme use it. Fire me, hey? You got one ---- ---- gall!"
He stood staring after the shuffling Irishman, muttering savagely tohimself, until the section-boss had been swallowed up by the darkness.Then he turned, slammed the gun back into its holster and stamped towardthe hotel; but he stopped in the nearest saloon to give theeavesdropper, if there had been one, a chance to get to the hotel beforehim.
The bar was deserted, but half a dozen prospectors were seated at thetables, and they greeted his entrance with scowls. The two cavalrymenpresent glanced at him in disinterested, momentary curiosity and resumedtheir maudlin conversation. Some shavetail's ears must have beenburning out at their post.
Tex stormed up to the bar and slammed two silver dollars on it. "Takethis dirty money an' give th' boys cigars for it," he growled. "Me, I'mnot smokin' any of 'em. Fire me, huh? I'd like to see th' section-bossthat fires me! 'Overpaid,' he says, an' me workin' like a dog! 'Idon't need ye tomorry,' he says: I cussed soon told him what he needed,but he didn't wait for it. Fire me?" he sneered. "Like h--l!"
The cavalrymen grinned sympathetically and nodded their thanks for thecigars, which they had no little difficulty in lighting. The other menin the room took their gifts silently, two of them abruptly pushing themacross the table, away from them.
"There'll be others that'll mebby git what they're needin'," said arasping, unsteady voice from a corner table. "'Specially if he stickshis nose in where it ain't wanted."
Tex casually turned and nodded innocently. "My sentiments exactly," heagreed, waiting to receive unequivocal notification that it was he forwhom the warning was meant. A little stupidity was often a usefulthing.
"Nobody asked you for yore sentiments," retorted the prospector."Strangers can't come into this town an' carry things with a high hand.Next time, Jake will kill you."
Tex looked surprised and then his eyes glinted. "That bein' a littlejob he can start 'most any time," he retorted. "When a man fightsworse'n a dog he makes me mad; an' he fought like a cur. I'd do itag'in. He got what he was needin', that's all."
The miner glowered at him. "An' he's got friends, Jake has," heasserted.
"Tell him that he'll need 'em--all of 'em," sneered Tex. "Our littlesession was plumb personal, but I'll let in his friends. Th' gate'swide open. They don't have to dig in under th' fence, or sit on theirhaunches outside an' howl. An' let me tell you somethin' for yorepersonal benefit--I've swallered all I aim to swaller tonight. I'mpeaceable an' not lookin' for no trouble--you hold yore yap till I getthrough talkin'--but I ain't dodgin' none. Somehow I seem to be out ofstep in this town; but I'm whistlin' that I'm cussed particular aboutwho sets me right. I ain't got no grudges ag'in' nobody; I'm tryin' toact accordin' to my lights, but I ain't apologizin' to nobody for themlights. Anybody objectin'?"
"Fair enough," said one of the cavalrymen. "I like his frank ways."
"That rides for me, too," endorsed his companion, aggressively.
"Shut up, you!" cried the bartender.
"For two bits--" pugnaciously began a miner, but he was cut short.
"An' you, too!" barked the man behind the counter, a gun magicallyappearing over the edge of the bar. "This has gone far enough!Stranger, you spoke yore piece fair. Tom," he said, looking at theangry miner, "you got nothin' more to say: yo're all through. If youthink you has, then go outside an' shout it there. Th' subject isclosed. What'll you-all have?"
Tex tarried after the round had been drunk but he did not order one onhis own account, feeling that it would be a mistake under thecircumstances. It might be regarded as a sign of weakness, and wasalmost certain to cause trouble. Turning his back on the sullen minerhe talked casually with the bartender and the cavalrymen, and then oneof the miners cleared his throat and spoke.
"Did you have a run-in with th' big Irishman?" he asked.
Tex leaned carelessly against the bar, grinned and frankly recounted theaffair, and before he had finished the narrative, answering grinsappeared here and there among his audience. The sputter of a sulphurmatch caught his eye as his late adversary slowly reached for and litthe cigar he had pushed from him a few minutes earlier, but Tex did notimmediately glance that way. When he had finished the story he lookedaround the room, noticed that all were smoking and he nodded slightly infriendly understanding. A little later he said good night, smiledpleasantly at the once sullen prosp
ector, and went carelessly out intothe night. The buzz of comment following his departure was notunfavorable to him.
When he entered the hotel barroom all eyes turned to him, and he noticeda grim smile on Williams' face and that the evil countenance of thenephew was aquiver with suspicion. Walking over, he stepped close tothe table, watching the play, and from where he could keep tabs on BudHaines' every move. During the new deal Williams leaned back,stretched, and glanced up.
"Had yore supper?" he carelessly asked.
Tex nodded. "Shore: reg'lar home-cooked feed. It went good for achange. I reckon I shore earned it, too." He drew out a sack oftobacco, filled a cigarette paper and held the sack in his teeth whilehe rolled himself a smoke. "What's paid around here for a good,half-day's work?" he mumbled between his teeth.
"What kind of work?" judicially asked Williams.
Tex removed the sack, moistened the cigarette and held it unlightedwhile he answered. "Freightin' on foot, carpenterin', diggin', an'doin' what I was told to do."
"Dollar to a dollar four bits," replied Williams. "What you doin'?Hirin' out?"
"I was; but I ain't no more," replied Tex, lighting up. He exhaled alungful of smoke and dragged up a chair. "I asked two dollars, an' therewas an argument. That's all."
The hands lay where they had been dealt, Williams having let his ownlay, and the players were idly listening until he should pick it up.
"What's it all about?" asked Williams. "You talk like a dish of hash."
The eager nephew squirmed closer to the table and his assumed look ofindifference was a heavy failure.
Tex laughed, leaned back, and with humorous verbal pigments painted arapidly changing picture to the best of his by no means poor ability.He took them up to the digging of the post holes, and then leanedforward. "Murphy said we'd build a four-sided fence, three posts to th'side, makin twelve in all. That suited us, an' as there was only onespade, we told him to go ahead an' dig his holes while we worked on th'nest boxes. He was to do th' north an' th' south sides, which he saidwas fair." The speaker paused a moment, leaning back in his chair, hiseyelids nearly closed. Between their narrowed openings he lookedswiftly around. The card players grinned in expectation of some jokeabout to appear, Williams looked suspicious and puzzled, but thebartender's eyes popped open and he choked back a sudden burst oflaughter. Tex drew in a long breath, pushed back into his chair andglanced around at the players. "I was honest an' fair enough to say th'diggin' wasn't evenly divided, us bein' two an' him only one. What doyou boys say?"
"What's it all amount to anyhow?" snarled the nephew. "Who cares if itwas or not? What did you think of th' gal?" he demanded.
Tex breathed deeply, relaxed, and gravely considered his boots. "Well,if I was aimin' to start a kindergarten I might have took more notice cfher--an' you, too, bub. Can't you do yore own lookin'?" he plaintivelydemanded. "Anyhow, I was warned fair, wasn't I? Huh! When you get tobe my age an' have had my experience with this fool world you won't betakin' no more interest in 'em than I do. Beggin' yore pardon forinterruptin' th' previous conversation we was holdin'. I'll perceed fromwhere I was." He looked back at the card players. "We was debatin' th'fairness of th' offer to dig them holes. What you boys say?"
The man nearest to him pursed his lips and cogitated. The subject was nomore frivolous than the majority of subjects which had furnished bonesof contention many a night. Most barroom arguments start on even less."I reckon it was, him bein' more used to diggin'."
His partner leaned forward. "What did he say about it, at first?"
"He was shore satisfied," answered Tex as the bartender, turning hisback on the room, shook with the ague.
The last questioner bobbed his head decisively. "Then it shore wasfair."
Williams nodded slowly, for his opinions were not lightly given. "I'dsay it was. What about it?"
"Oh, nothin' much," growled Tex. "I reckon he changed his mind lateron." He looked over at the gambler leaning against the wall, the samegambler he had seen on the train. At this notice Denver Jim, sensingpossible bets, straightened up, winked, and made a sign which among hisclass was a notification that he had declared himself in for half thewinnings of a game. Tex shook his head slightly and frowned, as ifdeeply puzzled over Murphy's conduct. The gambler repeated the sign andmoved forward.
Tex did some quick thinking. He could not afford to be linked to atin-horn and he did not intend to make any money out of his joke.Whatever he won in this town he would win at cards, and win it alone.His second signal of refusal was backed up by his hand droppingcarelessly and resting on the butt of his gun. The gambler scowled,barely nodded his acquiescence and went to the bar for a drink. BudHaines glanced up from the weekly paper he was reading, saw nothing tohold his interest, and returned to his reading.
Tex went on with his story, telling about the supper and his scene withMurphy at the station, repeating the latter word for word as nearly ashe could from the time when he had detected the approach of theeavesdropper. From the constantly repeated looks of satisfaction onWilliams' face he knew that the local boss had been given a detailedaccount of the incident, and that he was checking it up, step by step.Briefly sketching his trouble in the saloon, Tex threw the cigarettebutt at a distant box cuspidor and stretched. "An' here I am," hefinished.
Williams picked up his hand, glancing absent-mindedly at the cards."Yes," he grunted, "here you are." Putting the cards back on the tablehe carelessly pushed them from him, squaring the edges with zealouscare. "You come near not bein' here, though," he said, his level looksteady and accusing. "Whatever made you jump on Jake that way?" hedemanded coldly.
"Shucks! Here it comes again!" said Tex. He looked suspicious anddefiant. "I did it to stop a murder, an' a lynchin'," he answeredshortly.
"Very fine!" muttered Williams. "You was a little miteoveranxious--there wouldn't 'a' been no lynchin' of Jake; but theremight 'a' been one, just th' same. I had to do some real talkin' tostop it. It ain't wise for strangers to act sudden in a frontiertown--'specially in this town. That's somethin' you hadn't ought toforget, Mr. Jones."
"If I get yore meanin' plain, yo're intendin' me to think I was indanger of bein' lynched?"
"You shore was."
"Then yo're admittin' that this town of Windsor will lynch a man becausehe keeps a murder from bein' committed, by lickin' th' man who tried todo it?"
"Exactly. Jake has lots of friends."
"He's plumb welcome to 'em, an' I reckon, if he's that kind of a man, heshore needs 'em bad. But from what I saw of Jake he ain't that kind ofa man. I'm a friend of his'n, too. I'm so much a friend of Jake's thatif he treads on my toes I'll save him from facin' th' trials an'hardships that come with old age. His existence is precarious, anyhow.He's allus just one step ahead of poverty an' grub stakes. Life forJake is just one placer disappointment after another. He allus has tofigger on a hard winter. Then he has to dodge sickness an' saddles,wrestlin' tricks, boxin' tricks, an' fast gunplay. But Jake is th' kindof a man that does his own fightin' for hisself. Yo're plumb mistakenabout him."
"Mebby I am," admitted Williams. "I didn't know you was acquainted withanybody around here, 'specially th' C Bar outfit."
"I wasn't," replied Tex. "It ain't my nature to be distant an'disdainful, however." He grinned. "I get acquainted fast."
"You acted prompt in helpin' that Watkins," accused Williams.
"I shore had to, or he'd 'a' quit bein' Watkins," retorted Tex. "Youlook here: We'll be savin' a lot of time if we come right down to cases.I saw a big man tryin' to kick th' head off another man, a smaller one,that was down. I stopped him from doin' it without hurtin' him serious.If it'd been th' other way 'round I'd done th' same thing. As itstands, it's between Jake an' me. We'll let it stay that way until th'lynchin' party starts out. Then anybody will be plumb welcome to cut inan' stop it. Excuse me for interferin' with yore game--but th' faultain't mine. Talkin' is dry work--bartender, set 'em up for
all hands.Who's winnin'?"
Williams picked up his cards again, looked at them, puckered his lipsand glanced around at his companions. He cleared his throat and lookedback at Tex. "I reckon I was, a little. Want to sit in? After all,Jake's troubles are his own: we got enough without 'em."
Tex looked at the table and the players, shrugged his shoulders andanswered carelessly. "Don't feel like playin' very much--ate too muchsupper, I reckon. Later on, when I ain't so heavy with grub, mebby I'lltake cards. I'd rather play ag'in' fewer hands, tonight, anyhow."
Williams looked up and sneered. "Think you got a better chance, thatway?"
"I get sort of confused when there's so many playin'," confessed Tex;"but I shore can beat th' man that invented th' game, playin' ittwo-handed. I used to play for hosses, two-hand. Allus had luck,somehow, playin' for them. Why, once I owned six cayuses at one time,that I'd won."
"That so? You like that gray: how much will you put up ag'in' him?"
"I wouldn't play for no gray hoss--they're plumb unlucky with me. Iain't superstitious, but I shore don't like gray hosses."
"Got anythin' ag'in' sorrels?" Williams asked with deep sarcasm.
"Nothin' much; but I'm shore stuck on blacks an roans. I call themhosses!" Tex grinned at the crowd and looked back at Williams. "Yes,sir; I shore do."
"How much will you put up ag'in' a good roan, then?"
"Ain't got much money," evaded Tex, backing away.
"Got two hundred dollars?"
"Not for no cayuse. Besides, I don't know th' hoss yo're meanin'."
"That roan you saw today," replied Williams. "John said you liked him alot. I'll play you one hand, th' roan, ag'in' two hundred."
Tex glanced furtively at the front door and then at the stairway. "Letit go till tomorrow night," he mumbled.
"Yo're a great talker, ain't you?" sneered Williams. "I'll put up th'roan ag'in' a hundred an' fifty. One hand, just me an' you."
"Well, mebby," replied Tex. "Better make her th' best two out of three.I might have bad luck th' first hand."
Williams' disgust was obvious and a snicker ran through the room. "Iwouldn't play that long for a miserable sum like that ag'in' a stranger.One hand, draw poker, my roan ag'in' yore one-fifty. Put up, or shutup!"
"All right," reluctantly acquiesced Tex. "We allus used to make it twoout of three up my way; but I may be lucky. After you get through--Iain't in no hurry."
Williams laughed contemptuously: "You shore don't have to say so!" Hesmiled at his grinning companions and resumed his play.
Tex dropped into the seat next to the sneering nephew, from where hecould watch the gun-fighter. Bud's expression duplicated that of hisboss and he paid but little attention to the wordy fool who was timidabout playing poker for a horse.
"Hot, ain't it?" said Tex pleasantly. "Hot, an' close."
"Some folks find it so; reckon mebby it is," answered the nephew. "Whatdid you people talk about at supper?" he asked.
"Hens," answered Tex, grinning. "She's got a dozen. You'd think theywas rubies, she's that stuck up about 'em. Kind of high-toned, ain'tshe?"
The nephew laughed sneeringly. "She'll lose that," he promised. "Idon't aim to be put off much longer."
"Mebby yo're callin' too steady," suggested Tex. "Sometimes that gives'em th' idea they own a man. You don't want to let 'em feel too shoreof you."
Henry Williams shifted a little. "No," he replied; "I ain't callin' toooften. In fact, I ain't done no callin' at all, yet. I've sort of runacrost her on th' right-of-way, an' watched her a little. I get alittle bit scary, somehow--just can't explain it. But I aim to call atth' house, for I'm shore gettin' tired of ridin' wide."
"Ain't they smart, though?" chuckled Tex; "holdin' back an' actin'skittish. I cured a gal of that, once; but I don't reckon you can doit. It takes a lot of nerve an' will-power. You feel like playin'show-downs, two-bits a game?"
"Make it a dollar, an' I will. How'd you cure that one of yourn?"
"Dollar's purty steep," objected Tex. "Make it a half." He leaned backand laughed reminiscently. "I worked a system on her. Lemme dealfirst?"
"Suit yourself. Turn 'em face up--it'll save time. What did you do?"
"Made her think I didn't care a snap about her. Want to cut? Well, Ididn't know--some don't want to," he explained. "Saves time, that'sall. Reckon it's yore pot on that queen. Deal 'em up."
"How'd you do it? snub her?"
"Gosh, no! Don't you ever do that: it makes 'em mad. Just let 'emalone--sort of look at 'em without seein' 'em real well. You dassn'tmake 'em mad! You win ag'in. Yo're lucky at this game: want to quit?"
"Give you a chance to get it back," sneered the nephew. "Think it wouldwork with her?"
"Don't know: she got any other beaux?"
"I've seen to that. She ain't. Take th' money an' push over yorecards. Do you think it will work with her?" Henry persisted.
"Gosh, sonny: don't you ask me that! No man knows very much aboutwimmin', an' me less than most men. It's a gamble. She's got to jumpone way or th' other, ain't she? How was you figgerin' to win?"
"Just go get her, that's all. She'll tame down after awhile."
"But you allus can do that, can't you? Now, if it was me I'd try to gether to come of her own accord, for things would be sweeter right at th'very start. But, then, I'm a gambler, allus willin' to run a risk. Aman's got to foller his own nature. I got you beat ag'in: this shore isa nice game."
"Too weak," objected the nephew. "Dollar a hand would suit me better.My eights win this. Want to boost her?"
Tex reflected covetously. "Well, I might go high as a dollar, but notno more."
"Dollar it is, then. What's yore opinion of that gal?"
"Shucks," laughed Tex. "She's nice enough, I reckon; but she ain't mystyle. Yore uncle's game is bustin' up an' he's lookin' at me. See youlater. You win ag'in, but I allus have bad luck doublin' th' stakes,'though I ain't what you might call superstitious. See you later."
Tex arose and went over to the other table, raked in the cards, squaredthem to feel if they had been trimmed, thought they had been, and pushedthem out for the cut, watching closely to see how the face cards hadbeen shaved. Williams turned the pack, announced that high dealt,grasped the sides of the pack and turned a queen. Tex also grasped thesides of the pack remaining and also turned a queen. He clumsilydropped the deck, growled something and bunched it again, shoving ittoward his companion in such a way that Williams would have to show adeliberate preference for the side grip. This he did and Tex followedhis lead. The ends of the face cards and aces had been trimmed and thesides of the rest of the deck had been treated the same way. Because ofthis the sides of the face cards stuck out from the deck and the ends ofthe spot cards projected. Yet so carefully had it been done that it wasnot noticeable. Williams cut again, turning another queen. Tex cut aking and picked up the pack. As he shuffled he was careful not to showany of his characteristic motions, for although his opponent hadforgotten his face in the score of years behind their former meeting, itmight take but very little to start his memory backtracking.
"My money ag'in' th' roan," said the dealer, pushing out the cards forthe cut. "Hundred an' fifty," he explained.
Williams cut deep and nodded. "This one game decides it: a discard, adraw, an' a show-down. Right?"
"Right," grunted Tex, swiftly dropping the cards before them. Williamspicked up his hand, but gave no sign of his disappointment. There wasnot a face card in it. He made his selection, discarded, and called forthree cards. Tex had discarded two. Williams wanted no face cards onthe draw, since he held a pair of nines. One more nine would give him afair hand, and another would just about win for him. He drew a blackqueen and a pair of red jacks.
"Well," he said, "ready to show?"
Tex grunted again, glanced at Bud Haines, and lay down three queens, anine, and a jack. "What you got?" he anxiously asked.
"An empty b
ox stall, I reckon," growled his adversary, spreading hishand. He pushed back without another word to Tex, looked at hisstableman and spoke gruffly. "John, give that roan to Mr. Jones when hecalls for it. He's to keep it somewhere else. I'm turnin' in. Goodnight, all."