DR. SHONTO RIDES ALONE
DOWN on the desert, a day’s journey in the saddle from Diamond H Ranch,
where the pilgrims to the Valley of Arcana had left their cars, lived
an old man named Gustav Tanburt. His rancho had its existence because
of an oasis similar to the one at Diamond H, and he had prospered
throughout the years that he had lived there as a desert rat.
Through his broad acres passed a road extending at right angles to
the road that entered the property of his distant neighbour. This
last-mentioned road--the one by which Charmian’s party had reached
Diamond H Ranch--went no farther, and the trackless sweeps of the
desert separated the two properties. But Tanburt’s road was moderately
well travelled. Freighters driving eight- and ten- and twelve-horse
teams pursued it on their way to a distant mining community in the
mountains. Gus Tanburt’s ranch was a station for them and all other
travellers passing that way, and Gus took a heavy toll for meals and
feed for stock and even water. In the mountains he had cheap pasturage
in the National Forest, for he was an old-timer in the Shinbone Country
and had used the grass long before the passage of the act which
placed the forest lands under government control. Hence he had the
preference, as is the government ruling, and he used it to force out
all competing cattlemen in the district.
The war, with the resultant high price of beef and hides, had made
him. Ignorant, old, crabbed, alone, unliked by all who knew him, he
was now worth nearly half a million dollars, which did him very little
good. For he limped about with a cane and had not mounted a horse for
several years. Wretched and old and worn to a wreck--and he longed for
youth and something to spend his money for, and a bud of a girl named
Rosaline Dimmette, who lived with her parents on a forest homestead in
the centre of his summer grazing lands.
Until Gus knew the girl he had put forth every effort to oust
the homesteaders. But Dimmette was firmly ensconced and had the
Agricultural Department back of him; he was obstinate and a fighter.
Then one day Gus Tanburt rode up to make further snarling protest
against Dimmette’s use of the water in a certain stream, and for
the first time he saw Rosaline--and wanted her. He decided then and
there that the eighteen-year-old girl, fresh and feminine and ruddy
as mountain mahogany, should be the price of the Dimmettes’ remaining
peacefully on their claim. But he knew that he was old and crippled and
unacceptable as a husband, and dally growing more so. So the Dimmettes
had remained, unhampered by warfare, while Gus Tanburt brooded over his
lost youth and vigour and longed for Rosaline.
Then for weeks the papers were full of articles about rejuvenation
by the substitution of animal glands in the aged and unambitious. Gus
scoffed at it at first, then believed and suffered with longing, then
scoffed again. And one day to his rancho came two old acquaintances,
Smith Morley and Omar Leach.
Leach, Morley and his wife, after deserting Charmian’s expedition on
the desert, had ridden back to Diamond H and tried to get possession of
at least one of the automobiles. One or both they meant to sell before
the party could overtake them, and with the money flee to Australia,
where they might have enough funds remaining to outfit themselves for
an opal-prospecting trip into the sandy wastes. But Roger Furlong,
owner of Diamond H, knew Leach and Morley of old, and knew nothing good
about them. He positively refused to turn over to them the cars of Andy
and Dr. Shonto, well knowing that the prospectors could not afford
such cars. Furlong had recovered his horses and given the two men the
boot, but promised to board Mrs. Morley until such time as he found
it convenient to take her to the main line of travel to the nearest
city. Obliged to be content with this arrangement, Leach and Morley had
set out afoot for Tanburt’s ranch. They would be more welcome there,
for in the past they had turned several shady deals--mostly connected
with salted mines and unbranded calves--which had helped to lay the
groundwork for the fortune that old Gus possessed to-day. Yes, they
might be given a grudging welcome at Tanburt Ranch while they were
looking about for a way to get out of their present difficulties. And
they reached old Gus at a time when the newspapers, which he read with
one thick, dirt-calloused finger pointing out the lines, were carrying
columns about the rejuvenation of human glands.
And Gus learned that one of the most famous gland specialists in the
world was then on the desert, not many miles away. So with bleary eyes
watering in eagerness and trembling hands, he offered to reward Leach
and Morley handsomely to find Dr. Inman Shonto and bring him to Tanburt
Ranch.
“But how can we go about it?” Leach asked Morley when they were alone.
“We can’t approach Doctor Shonto after ducking our nuts the way we did.
Confound that Shirttail Henry!”
“There’s enough in it,” said Morley, “to make a trial worth while. We
need the money, and it’s no time to let our pride stand in the way.
Just sneak back and confess we’re crooked, and put it up to Shonto what
Gus wants. Tell him there’ll be a big fee, and-- Oh, we’ll get by some
way! Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. I can talk better on
the spur of the moment than I can after a careful rehearsal.”
“Will Shonto come?”
“That’s a question. He’s got piles of money. He’s stuck on Mrs. Reemy.
Chances are he won’t.”
Leach grew thoughtful. “D’ye suppose they’re still out there on the
desert? What would they be doing, Smith? By now Shirttail Henry has
spilled the beans about the opal claims. Chances are they’re on their
way back to Diamond H right now to get their cars.”
“Doubt it. That girl was crazy to find the undiscovered valley, and if
they pump Henry he’ll tell ’em which way to go to find it. She’s game,
that kid--be just like her to strike out this late in the season to
find it. And the two men would go with her--one to watch the other.
They’re both in love.”
“If that’s the case, it’ll be harder than ever to find ’em. And harder
than ever to get Shonto to come. But if we can find ’em, and can get
Shonto off alone, there’s a way to get him.”
“Of course,” Morley agreed pleasantly. “But it’ll cost Gus several
times what he’s offered. And it might be possible to bring Doctor
Shonto here by night, or blindfolded, and take him away the same, so
he won’t know afterward where he was. That’ll clear Gus and us, too.
And we can arrange to make a getaway by leaving Shonto somewhere on the
desert without a horse, so we can ride off and be on our way to Frisco
before he gets in touch with anybody.”
“Of course,” said Leach.
“Let’s put it up to Gus how difficult the job will be for us,”
suggested Morley. “Confound him, he ought to pay us a thousand apiece
and never miss it! And say--if we can get Shonto the way we said,
we’ll get out of crawling back to those folks and making monkeys out
of ourselves. That’s the best way to pull it off, anyway--and there’ll
be more in it. If we can only locate the party and get Shonto off by
himself. How soon d’ye think they’ll be trailing back, Omar, provided
they make a try at locating the undiscovered valley?”
“They won’t be giving up yet,” thought Leach. “But they will before
long, I guess. Let’s see what Gus’ll do for us, then get a couple of
horses and a couple of canaries and get back into that country. We
can fool ’round and pretend to be prospecting close to the trail to
Shirttail Bend. They’ll likely come out that way. We can plan the rest
of it when we strike ’em.
“Fine business! Let’s get to work on Gus and see how much we can
separate him from.”
The morning following this dialogue Leach and Morley set off over the
desert toward the trail that led to Shirttail Bend, mounted and with
two packed burros.
They camped near the spring in the calico buttes, and every day they
were out merely loafing about, but keeping in sight of the mouth
of Henry’s trail. But many days had passed before they saw another
human being; and they waylaid the first they saw coming down the
trail--Shirttail Henry with Lot’s wife, on their way with sorrowful
news for the Weather Bureau concerning the masticated rain gauge.
From a distance Henry looked at them doubtfully and with long strides
tried to evade them. But they closed in on him because of the
reluctance of Mrs. Lot to make greater speed than that prescribed for
general pack travel. Henry swung flutteringly about and grinned at the
prospectors through his mat of ragged whiskers.
“Now, looky-here, you fellas,” he threatened. “Come any o’ yer
monkey-business on me and I’ll get a club, and I’ll take it and I’ll
knock yer gysh-danged heads off! Heh-heh-heh!”
This in the face of the fact that there was not a club within fifteen
miles.
“Close your trap!” growled Smith Morley. “Where’s the bunch?”
“None o’ yer gysh-danged business!” was the retort.
“Don’t rub his fur the wrong way,” came Leach’s whispered warning to
his partner. “Get more out of him by kidding him along.”
Morley tacked. “What’s the big idea of being so sore, Henry?” he asked
cheerfully.
“Why ain’t you boys gone from here?”
“Well, we’re just still here--that’s all. Prospecting a little. Where
you headed for, Henry?”
“Say something about the weather,” whispered Leach.
“How’s the weather up in the mountains, Henry?” Morley complied. “Looks
a little like rain, don’t it?”
Henry’s blue eyes brightened. “It sure does,” he agreed, casting an
anxious look at the sky above the wooded ridges. “And here’s me without
a rain gauge. Plumb ruint, boys. Roger’s bell burro she clean et her
up. And here’s winter comin’ on, and me without a gauge! I’m hikin’ to
Diamond H to send a letter for another one. If I don’t get her before
it storms I’m plumb ruint--heh-heh-heh!”
His face was so forlorn and his deep-throated chuckle so indicative of
secret mirth that the result was ludicrous.
“When’d that happen, Henry?” Leach questioned, affecting interest and
sympathy.
“Little time back.”
“Where? At Shirttail Bend?”
“No, up above the lake. Furder ner that--up on th’ toes o’ Dewlap.”
“What were you doing up there, Henry?”
“I was showin’ ’em how to get to the Valley of Arcana, which is her new
name,” Henry divulged. “And Roger Furlong’s bell burro she--”
“That was sure tough luck, Henry. And did they get to the valley?”
“I don’t know. I reckon not. I hadta leave ’em and send in for another
rain gauge.”
“You ditched them up in that God-forsaken country--a bunch of
greenhorns?”
“What could I do?” pleaded Henry. “I’m a gov’ment official, and--”
“Are they up in there yet?”
“I guess so. Ain’t seen hide ner hair of ’em since. Left th’ hosses at
th’ lake, and we hoofed it with th’ asses. Then, side o’ Dewlap, we
leaves th’ asses browsin’ off th’ bresh--”
“Yes, yes!”--irritably from Morley. “And you’re sure they’ve not come
out?”
“How could they yet? I been hikin’ straight sence I left ’em, ’ceptin’
to ketch up Mrs. Lot.”
“Well, well, well, Henry! Tough luck about your gauge. Don’t let us
keep you.”
“Tough luck, you bet!” Henry agreed. “Heh-heh-heh!”
He slithered to Lot’s Wife, who had wandered from the straight and
narrow in search of dry bunchgrass, and shooed her into the trail again.
“What’ll we do now?” asked Leach. “Go up after ’em or wait here?”
“They’ll be coming out soon, with Henry gone,” said Morley. “Bet the
old coot ditched ’em in the night. If that’s so, they’ll give up in a
day or two. Le’s wait for ’em here.”
They continued to wait for days and days, anxious, afraid that the
party had perished in the wilderness, afraid that Henry had lied to
them. Henry had not returned; they supposed he was waiting at Diamond
H for the arrival of his new rain gauge, and they knew that mail came
to the desert ranch infrequently and at irregular intervals. Morley
left Leach on guard and rode back to Tanburt for fresh supplies. He
returned, and they continued their patient vigil.
Then one afternoon at three o’clock Dr. Inman Shonto came riding down
the trail, alone. They flattened themselves on the ground behind
sagebrush and elbowed each other in the ribs in silent satisfaction.
Shonto must needs camp at the desert spring that night.
When horse and rider were a mere speck in the hazy distance the
prospectors hurried to a draw in which their saddle animals were
picketed and raced in a great circle toward the buttes. They rounded
the buttes and entered them from the opposite side. They galloped to
the spring, collected their belongings, and erased all evidences of a
recent camp. They watered their sweating horses and rode out on the
desert again, found their pack animals and picketed them, then made a
dry camp to await the coming of night.