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  CHAPTER VI

  GORDON PROSPECTS SNAKE'S FALL

  It was a blazing day. The dust of the prairie street smothered bootsand trouser-legs with a fine gray powder which even rose high enough toget into the throats of pedestrians, and drive them headlong to thenearest place where they could hope to quench a raging thirst.

  There was no shelter from the sun, unless it were to be found upon theverandas with which many of the Snake's Fall houses were fronted.Gordon's face was rapidly blistering as he idly wandered through thetown. Great streams of perspiration coursed from beneath his soft felthat. His double collar felt sticky, and suggested imminent collapse.To all of which discomforts were now added a swarm of flies buzzingabout his moist face with a distracting persistence which tried evenhis patience.

  Gordon was abroad fairly early. He was abroad for several reasons. Hepossessed a haunting dread of the rapid passing of time. He had slepthealthily, if not altogether comfortably. Nor had he yet made up hismind whether the floor of his room would not be preferable to his bedfor the passing of future nights. The floor was smooth, there were nohummocks on it. Then, too, the sorely tried and thoroughly slackbed-springs would be avoided, and the horrible groans of a protestingframe would remain silent. It was a matter to be given considerationbefore the day ended, and, being really of a very thorough nature, hedecided to consider it after supper.

  He had lain awake for a long time that first night under the shelter ofPeter McSwain's hospitable roof, and in the interim of dodging theflock hummocks he had closely considered his future movements.

  He argued, if things were as he had been told they were in Snake'sFall, he did not see how he could do better than throw his lot in withthe crowd of "ground sharks" awaiting the boom. Having convincedhimself in this direction, he felt that at the very earliestopportunity he must reassure himself of Peter McSwain's veracity. Hefelt that no member of the get-rich-quick brigade could dare to ignorethe claims of a great coal discovery about to boom. Besides, the wholething had been pitched into his lap; or rather it was he who had beenpitched. Nor did the roughness of the method of his arrival detractfrom the chances spreading out before his astonished eyes.

  Now he was searching the place for those signs which were to tell himof the accuracy of his information. Nor was it long before he realizedthat such a search on his part was scarcely likely to prove productive.His knowledge of coal had never been more intimate than the payment ofcertain fuel bills presented to him at intervals in the past by thefaithful Harding. While as for indications of a boom--well, he hadheard that a boom came along, everybody robbed everybody else, and inthe end a number of widows and orphans found themselves deprived oftheir savings, and a considerable body of attorneys had increased theiryear's income out of all proportion to their just deserts. He felt hisweakness keenly. However, he persisted. He felt the only thing was toattack the problem with an open mind. He did so, and it quickly becamefilled with a humorous interest that had nothing to do with his purpose.

  Surveying his surroundings, he thought that never in his life had heeven imagined such a quaint collection of habitations. The long,straight street, running parallel to the railroad track suggested a rowof jagged, giant teeth. Each building was set in its own section ofjawbone, distinct from its nearest neighbor. Then they reared theirheads and terminated in a pointed fang or a flat, clean-cut edge ofhigh boarding. Sometimes they possessed a mere sloping roof, like awell-worn tooth, and, here and there, a half-wrecked building, with itsroof fallen in, stood out like a severely decayed molar.

  Most of the stores--and he counted a dozen or more--suggested aconsiderable trade. In this direction he noted a hardware storeparticularly. A drug store, too, with an ice-cream soda fountain,seemed to be in high favor, as also did several dry-goods stores,judging by the number of females in attendance. But the small candystores were abandoned to the swarming flies.

  The people were interesting. There certainly was a considerable numberabout, in spite of the heat. They, anyway the men, all looked hot likehimself, but seemed to be surcharged with an energy that appeared tohim somewhat artificial. They hurried unnecessarily. They paused andspoke quickly, and passed on. Here and there they fell into groups,and their boisterous laughter suggested the inevitable funny story orrisque tale. There were a great number of vehicles rattlingabout--buggies, buckboards, democrat wagons--while several times he waspassed by speeding saddle-horses which smothered him in the dust raisedby their unshod hoofs.

  At last he came to the end of the street, and turned to retrace hissteps. It was all too interesting to be readily abandoned on this hisfirst day beyond the conventions of life as his father's son.

  Just outside a large livery barn he came to an abrupt halt, and stoodstupidly staring at the entrance of the largest dry-goods store in thestreet. The whole thing had caught and held him in a moment. Heseemed to remember having seen something of the sort in a movingpicture once; perhaps it was years ago. But in real life--never.

  A great chestnut saddle-horse had dashed up to the tying-post outsidethe store. It had reined up with a jerk, and its rider had flung outof the saddle with the careless abandon he had read about or seen inthe pictures. Hooking the reins over a peg, the rider hurried towardsthe store. It was then Gordon obtained a full view.

  In a moment the flies were forgotten and the heat of the day meantnothing to him. What a vision was revealed! The coiled masses ofauburn hair, the magnificent hazel eyes and the delightful sun-tannedoval of the face, the trim figure and perfect carriage, the costume!The long habit coat and loose riding-breeches terminated in thedaintiest of tan riding-boots and silver spurs. Splendid! What apicture for his admiring eyes! A picture of grace, and health, andbeauty.

  But the vision was gone in a moment. The girl had passed into thestore, and it was only left to the enthusiastic spectator to turn tothe magnificent chestnut horse she had so unconcernedly left waitingfor her.

  Almost immediately, however, his attention was diverted into anotherdirection. A dark, sallow-faced man had promptly taken up his positionat the entrance of the store, and stood gazing in after the vanishedfigure of the girl.

  For some absurd reason Gordon took an intense dislike to the man. Helooked unhealthy, and he hated that look in a man. Besides, theimpertinence of standing there spying upon a lady who was doubtlesssimply bent on an ordinary shopping expedition. It was mostexasperating. All unconsciously he straightened his great figure andsquared his shoulders. It would not have required much to have madehim go and ask the man what he meant by it.

  He was rapidly working himself up into a superlative rage, when thegirl in the fawn riding-costume reappeared. A delightful smile brokeover his good-looking face, but only to be promptly swallowed up in ascowl. The girl had paused, and was speaking to the anaemic creaturewhose presence he felt to be an outrage.

  He noted her smile. What a delightful smile! Yes, he could distinctlymake out two dimples beyond the corners of her pretty mouth. Hisdislike of the favored man merged into a regret for himself.

  Hello! The smile had gone from the girl's face. Her beautiful hazeleyes were sparkling with resentment. The man was looking angry, too.Gordon rubbed his hands. Then he began to grin like a revengeful andmalicious schoolboy. The girl had moved on to her horse, and in doingso it almost looked as if she had deliberately pushed past thewhite-livered creature attempting to detain her.

  She leaped into the saddle and swung the horse about almost on itshaunches. The next moment she was lost in a cloud of dust as she raceddown the street.

  "Mighty fine horsemanship that," said a voice, as Gordon gazedopen-mouthed after the girlish vision. "A smart gal, too, eh?"

  Gordon turned. A small man was sitting at the open doors of the liverybarn upon an upturned box. He was leaning forward lazily, with hiselbows on his knees and his hands clutching his forearms. His towzled,straw-colored hair stuck out under the brim of his prairie hat, and achew of tobacco bul
ged one thin, leathery cheek. His trousers werefastened about his waist with a strap, and his only upper garment was adirty cotton shirt which disclosed an expanse of mahogany-colored chestbelow the neck.

  "Smart gal?" retorted Gordon enthusiastically. "That don't say athing. She might have stepped right out of the pages of a book." Thenhe added, as an afterthought, "And it would have to be a mighty goodbook, too."

  "Sure," nodded the other in agreement.

  "Who is she?"

  The man grinned and spat.

  "Why, that's Miss Hazel. Every feller in this city knows Miss Hazel.If you need eddication you want to see her astride of an unbroken colt.Ther' never was a cowpuncher a circumstance aside o' her. She's thedandiest horseman out."

  "I'd say you're right, all right."

  "Right? Guess ther' ain't no argument. Hosses is my trade. I wasborn an' raised with 'em. It don't take me guessin' twice 'bout ahorseman. I got forty first-class hosses right here in this barn, an'I got a bunch runnin' on old Mallinsbee's grazin'. Y'see, a liverybarn is a mighty busy place when a city starts to think o' booming.All them rigs an' buggies you see chasin' around are hired right here,"he finished up proudly.

  Gordon became interested. He felt the man was talking because hewanted to talk. He was talking out of the prevailing excitement whichseemed to actuate everybody on the subject of the coming boom. Heencouraged him.

  "I'd say a livery barn should be a mighty fine speculation under theseconditions," he said, while the keen gray eyes of the barn proprietorquietly sized him up. "There ought to be a pile hanging to it."

  "Ye-es."

  The man's demur roused the other's curiosity.

  "Not?" he inquired.

  "'Tain't that. Ther's dollars to it, but--they don't come in bunches.Y'see, I'm out after a wad--quick. We all are. When the railroadtalks we'll know where we are. But it's best to be in before. See?Oh, I guess the barn's all right. 'Tain't that. Say, I'd hand youthis barn right here, every plug an' every rig I got, if you could jestanswer me one question--right."

  "And the question?" Gordon smiled.

  "Wher' is the bloomin' depot to be? Here, or yonder to the west atBuffalo Point? Answer that right, an' you can have this caboose apresent."

  The little man sighed, and Gordon began to understand the strain ofwaiting for these people looking for a big pile quick. He shook hishead.

  "I'm beginning to think I'd like to know myself. Say, I s'pose youfigure this is a great place to make money? I s'pose you fancy it's asure thing?"

  The man unfolded his arms and waved one hand in a comprehensive gesture.

  "Do you need to ask me that?" he inquired, almost scornfully. "Whatdoes them big coal seams tell you? Can you doubt? Hev' you got twoeyes to your head which don't convey no meaning to your brain? Themcoal seams could stoke hell till kingdom come, an' shares 'ud still beat a premium. That's the backbone. Wal, we ain't got shares in thatcorporation, but the quickest road to the pile o' dollars we'reyearning for is in town plots. An'," he added regretfully, "every daybrings in more sharps, an' every new sharp makes it harder. It's thatblamed railroad we're waiting for, an' that railroad needs to graft itsway in before it'll talk."

  "Graft? Graft again," laughed Gordon.

  "Why, cert'nly." The livery man opened his eyes in astonishment."Folks don't do nothin' for nix that I ever heard. Speciallyrailroads. That depot 'll be built where their interests lie, an'we'll have to go on guessin' till they get things fixed."

  "I see."

  "Which says you ain't blind."

  "No, I don't think I'm blind exactly. It's just--lack of experience.I must get a peek at those seams. Mallinsbee's the man who'll knowabout things as soon as anybody, I s'pose. He owns all the land alongthe railroad, doesn't he?"

  The man rubbed his hands and grinned.

  "Sure. He'll know, an' through him us as he's let in on the groundfloor. Say, he's a heap of a good feller--an' bright. Y'see, him an'us, some of us fellers who been here right along before the coal wasfound, are good friends. There's some of us got stakes down BuffaloPoint way as well as up here. See? O' course, our pile lies BuffaloPoint way, an' we're hopin' he'll fix the railroad corporation thatway. If he does, gee! he's the feller we're gamblin' on."

  Gordon's interest had become almost feverish as he listened. He wasgathering the corroboration he needed with an ease he had neveranticipated.

  "I suppose one hundred thousand dollars would be nothing to makeif--things go right?"

  "If things go our way, I'd say a hundred thousand wouldn't be acircumstance," cried the man enthusiastically. "I'd make that out of afew hundred dollars without a worry--if things went right. But itain't the way of things to go right when you figger up."

  "No, I s'pose it's a matter of chance. The chance comes, and you'vejust got to grab it right and hold it."

  "Sure. Chance! If chance hits you, why, don't go to hit back. Jesthug it--same as you would your best gal."

  Gordon laughed and peered into the shadowy interior of the barn.

  "Guess that's good talk," he said, "and I'm going to listen. I've gotright hold of that chance, and I'm hugging it. Seems to me I'll needto get out and get a peek at Silas Mallinsbee's coal. Can you hire mea rig?"

  "I got a dandy top buggy an' team," cried the man, now alert and readyfor business. "Ten dollars to supper-time. How?"

  Gordon nodded, and the man vanished within the barn.

  Left alone, he reflected on the rapidity of the movement of events. Hehad had a luck that he surely could not have anticipated. Why, underthe influence of the prevailing enthusiasm of the place, he seemed tofeel that the whole thing was too utterly simple. He wondered what hisfather would have said had he been there. It would be a glorious coupto return home with that one hundred thousand dollars well before theexpiry of his time limit.

  From the dark interior of the barn came the sounds of horses' hoofsclattering on the boarded floor.

  Presently his thoughts drifted from the important matters in hand to afar less consequent matter. It was not in his nature to be longenamored of the hunt for fortune, no matter what the consequencesattached to it.

  He began to think of the vision in fawn-colored riding-costume. So hername was Hazel. Hazel--what? he wondered. A pretty name, and wellsuited to her. Hazel. Those eyes, and the gorgeous masses of herhair! He sighed. For a moment he thought of inquiring of the liveryman her other name. Then he smilingly shook his head and decided tolet that remain a secret for the present. It added to the romance ofthe thing. Of one thing he was certain: he must contrive to see heragain, and get to know her. Fortune or no fortune, if his father wereto cut him off with the proverbial shilling as a spendthrift andwaster, if he never saw a partnership in the greatest financialcorporation in the United States, that girl could not be allowed toflash into his life like a ray of spring sunshine, and pass out of itagain because he hadn't the snap to get to know her.

  He had known so many women in his own set at home. He had admired, hehad flirted harmlessly enough, he had shed presents and given parties,but somehow he felt that amongst all those society beauties there hadnot been one comparable to this wild rose of the foothills.

  "Say, it's a bright team an' 'll need handlin'," said the doubtfulvoice of the livery man.

  "Don't worry," returned Gordon, shocked into the affairs of the momentby the anxious voice.

  "Good." The man sounded relieved.

  "Which is the best way?"

  "Why, chase the trail straight away west. You can't miss it. I'lltake that ten dollars."

  Gordon paid and climbed into the buggy. The next moment the vehiclerolled out of the barn.