on the wagon, you know," declined the youth.
"Have a smoke?" suggested Columbus Blackie. "Here's the makin's."
The change in the attitude of the men toward him pleased The OskaloosaKid immensely. They were treating him as one of them, and after thelonely walk through the dark and desolate farm lands human companionshipof any kind was to him as the proverbial straw to the man who rocked theboat once too often.
Dopey Charlie and The General, alone of all the company, waxed notenthusiastic over the advent of The Oskaloosa Kid and his pricelessloot. These two sat scowling and whispering in the back-ground. "Dat'sa wrong guy," muttered the former to the latter. "He's a stool pigeon orone of dese amatoor mugs."
"It's the pullin' of that punk graft that got my goat," replied TheGeneral. "I never seen a punk yet that didn't try to make you think hewas a wise guy an' dis stiff don't belong enough even to pull a spielthat would fool a old ladies' sewin' circle. I don't see wot The SkyPilot's cozyin' up to him fer."
"You don't?" scoffed Dopey Charlie. "Didn't you lamp de oyster harness?To say nothin' of de mitful of rocks and kale."
"That 'ud be all right, too," replied the other, "if we could put theguy to sleep; but The Sky Pilot won't never stand for croakin' nobody.He's too scared of his neck. We'll look like a bunch o' wise ones, won'twe? lettin' a stranger sit in now--after last night. Hell!" he suddenlyexploded. "Don't you know that you an' me stand to swing if any of debunch gets gabby in front of dis phoney punk?"
The two sat silent for a while, The General puffing on a short briar,Dopey Charlie inhaling deep draughts from a cigarette, and both glaringthrough narrowed lids at the boy warming himself beside the firewhere the others were attempting to draw him out the while they strovedesperately but unavailingly to keep their eyes from the two bulgingsidepockets of their guest's coat.
Soup Face, who had been assiduously communing with a pint flask, leanedclose to Columbus Blackie, placing his whiskers within an inch or soof the other's nose as was his habit when addressing another, andwhispered, relative to the pearl necklace: "Not a cent less 'n fiftythou, bo!"
"Fertheluvomike!" ejaculated Blackie, drawing back and wiping a palmquickly across his lips. "Get a plumber first if you want to kissme--you leak."
"He thinks you need a shower bath," said Dirty Eddie, laughing.
"The trouble with Soup Face," explained The Sky Pilot, "is that he's gota idea he's a human atomizer an' that the rest of us has colds."
"Well, I don't want no atomizer loaded with rot-gut and garlic shotin my mug," growled Blackie. "What Soup Face needs is to be learnedettyket, an' if he comes that on me again I'm goin' to push his mushthrough the back of his bean."
An ugly light came into the blear eyes of Soup Face. Once again heleaned close to Columbus Blackie. "Not a cent less 'n fifty thou, youtinhorn!" he bellowed, belligerent and sprayful.
Blackie leaped to his feet, with an oath--a frightful, hideous oath--andas he rose he swung a heavy fist to Soup Face's purple nose. The latterrolled over backward; but was upon his feet again much quicker than onewould have expected in so gross a bulk, and as he came to his feet aknife flashed in his hand. With a sound that was more bestial than humanhe ran toward Blackie; but there was another there who had anticipatedhis intentions. As the blow was struck The Sky Pilot had risen; andnow he sprang forward, for all his age and bulk as nimble as a cat, andseized Soup Face by the wrist. A quick wrench brought a howl of pain tothe would-be assassin, and the knife fell to the floor.
"You gotta cut that if you travel with this bunch," said The Sky Pilotin a voice that was new to The Oskaloosa Kid; "and you, too, Blackie,"he continued. "The rough stuff don't go with me, see?" He hurled SoupFace to the floor and resumed his seat by the fire.
The youth was astonished at the physical strength of this old man,seemingly so softened by dissipation; but it showed him the source ofThe Sky Pilot's authority and its scope, for Columbus Blackie and SoupFace quitted their quarrel immediately.
Dirty Eddie rose, yawned and stretched. "Me fer the hay," he announced,and lay down again with his feet toward the fire. Some of the othersfollowed his example. "You'll find some hay in the loft there," said TheSky Pilot to The Oskaloosa Kid. "Bring it down an' make your bed here byme, there's plenty room."
A half hour later all were stretched out upon the hard dirt floor uponimprovised beds of rotted hay; but not all slept. The Oskaloosa Kid,though tired, found himself wider awake than he ever before had been.Apparently sleep could never again come to those heavy eyes. Therepassed before his mental vision a panorama of the events of the night.He smiled as he inaudibly voiced the name they had given him, the rightto which he had not seen fit to deny. "The Oskaloosa Kid." The boysmiled again as he felt the 'swag' hard and lumpy in his pockets. Ithad given him prestige here that he could not have gained by any othermeans; but he mistook the nature of the interest which his display ofstolen wealth had aroused. He thought that the men now looked uponhim as a fellow criminal to be accepted into the fraternity throughachievement; whereas they suffered him to remain solely in the hope oftransferring his loot to their own pockets.
It is true that he puzzled them. Even The Sky Pilot, the most astuteand intelligent of them all, was at a loss to fathom The Oskaloosa Kid.Innocence and unsophistication flaunted their banners in almost everyact and speech of The Oskaloosa Kid. The youth reminded him in some waysof members of a Sunday school which had flourished in the dim vistas ofhis past when, as an ordained minister of the Gospel, he had earned thesobriquet which now identified him. But the concrete evidence of thevaluable loot comported not with The Sky Pilot's idea of a Sunday schoolboy's lark. The young fellow was, unquestionably, a thief; but that hehad ever before consorted with thieves his speech and manners belied.
"He's got me," murmured The Sky Pilot; "but he's got the stuff on him,too; and all I want is to get it off of him without a painful operation.Tomorrow'll do," and he shifted his position and fell asleep.
Dopey Charlie and The General did not, however, follow the example oftheir chief. They remained very wide awake, a little apart from theothers, where their low whispers could not be overheard.
"You better do it," urged The General, in a soft, insinuating voice."You're pretty slick with the toad stabber, an' any way one more or lesswon't count."
"We can go to Sout' America on dat stuff an' live like gents," mutteredDopey Charlie. "I'm goin' to cut out de Hop an' buy a farm an' aottymobeel and--"
"Come out of it," admonished The General. "If we're lucky we'll get asfar as Cincinnati, get a stew on and get pinched. Den one of us'll hangan' de other get stir fer life."
The General was a weasel faced person of almost any age betweenthirty-five and sixty. Sometimes he could have passed for a hundredand ten. He had won his military title as a boy in the famous march ofCoxey's army on Washington, or, rather, the title had been conferredupon him in later years as a merited reward of service. The General,profiting by the precepts of his erstwhile companions in arms, had neversoiled his military escutcheon by labor, nor had he ever risen to thehigher planes of criminality. Rather as a mediocre pickpocket anda timorous confidence man had he eked out a meager existence, amplypunctuated by seasons of straight bumming and intervals spent as theguest of various inhospitably hospitable states. Now, for the first timein his life, The General faced the possibility of a serious charge; andhis terror made him what he never before had been, a dangerous criminal.
"You're a cheerful guy," commented Dopey Charlie; "but you may be rightat dat. Dey can't hang a guy any higher fer two 'an they can fer onean' dat's no pipe; so wots de use. Wait till I take a shot--it'll beeasier," and he drew a small, worn case from an inside pocket, baredhis arm to the elbow and injected enough morphine to have killed a dozennormal men.
From a pile of mouldy hay across the barn the youth, heavy eyed butsleepless, watched the two through half closed lids. A qualm of disgustsent a sudden shudder through his slight frame. For the first time healmost regretted having embarked upon a life o
f crime. He had seenthat the two men were conversing together earnestly, though he couldover-hear nothing they said, and that he had been the subject of theirnocturnal colloquy, for several times a glance or a nod in his directionassured him of this. And so he lay watching them--not that he wasafraid, he kept reassuring himself, but through curiosity. Why shouldhe be afraid? Was it not a well known truth that there was honor