OLD ACQUAINTANCES
IT was one of those Augean tasks that at least once in a lifetime
confront all earth-dwellers. But Mary Temple of the lustreless eye and
the wispy hair was game to the very core. Dr. Shonto never knew how she
suffered from that broken rib throughout the weary days of climbing
and sliding back to the haunts of men. Most women suffer silently, and
in some ways Mary Temple was a super-woman. She knew, and Dr. Shonto
knew, that the broken rib could not mend under the strain that was put
upon it. It was an ordeal of pain and torment which must be undergone,
and Mary underwent it, acidulously cheerful, barkingly good-natured, a
crusty good fellow from the bitter beginning to the bitter end. “Let
the old thing hurt,” she said. “What’s the difference? You get used to
pain in time. Our lives are all pain, but we don’t know it. We’re used
to it. When we get to heaven we’ll wonder how we ever stood it here on
earth, we were so miserable and didn’t know it.”
This odd philosophy carried her through triumphantly to the lake, where
they found the burros and horses still content with their mountain
pasture.
To ride, she discovered, was more painful than to walk. So she dragged
herself on down to Mosquito and scolded the doctor every step of the
way because he insisted on walking with her and leading the saddle
horse on which he was to ride for help. At Mosquito, after the terrific
strain of days of struggling over the rugged ridges, she collapsed and
was put to bed, greatly to her disgust. “I’m a regular zingwham,” she
sighingly announced. And questioned: “A zingwham is a fat girl thirteen
years old that bawls when the boys call her ‘Pianolegs.’” And Shonto,
days behind because of the slow progress made, hurried his horse on to
Shirttail Bend, to find the chaotic ranch deserted by its owner.
* * * * *
Inman Shonto himself was about all in. As medical adviser to as
obstinate a patient as any he had dealt with, he had not permitted Mary
to carry a pound. (The ensuing argument over this, from the dismal
cañon to Mosquito, had helped in his unstringing.) Rations had been
short beyond the cache, and at that he had packed a torturing load. His
back and shoulders ached; every muscle in his big body ached. His brain
was leaden. The figure that camped for the night at the spring in the
desert buttes did not closely resemble the fastidious Dr. Inman Shonto,
unresponsive but idolized lady’s man, renowned gland specialist,
popular clubman of the City of Los Angeles.
It was with little zest that he collected petrified yucca for his
campfire, fed rolled barley to his horse, and picketed him. Squatting
over the coals, he fried bacon and made “cowboy’s bread” in the grease.
A cup of strong black coffee finished his meal. Not ten minutes
afterward he was rolled in his blankets.
For a little his dull senses were aware of the close-by maudlin
laughter of a pair of coyotes up in the buttes; then the sounds blended
with his dreams and he was fast asleep.
He awoke with a start, shook his head, sat up straight. He was vaguely
aware that he was not alone. The fire had died down and only the light
of the stars served to reveal several indistinct bulks blacker than the
general blackness of the night. He made an attempt to spring to his
feet, but found his legs unresponsive and toppled over on one elbow.
A chuckle offered him derisive applause. “They’re tied together,
Doctor,” said a faintly familiar voice. “I just rolled the blankets off
your feet and tied your ankles, and you didn’t move a muscle.”
“Morley, eh?” said the doctor calmly. “Well, Morley, what’s it all
about? Sore about something--you and your partner?”
“Not at all,” Morley replied. Then to Leach: “Stir up the fire and
let’s have a cup of coffee before we start.”
Another dark bulk moved from the collection of shadows, and now Shonto
realized that horses and burros comprised the greater part of the
group. The fire blazed up after a little, and objects became more
distinct.
Smith Morley squatted on his heels.
“I’ll tell you, Doc,” he said. “Leach and I are up against it. We’re
flat broke and miles from our headquarters. In you we’ve found an
opportunity to get out of our difficulties. So you’re the goat.”
“Well, let’s have it. Am I to be shot at sunrise or as soon as we’ve
had the coffee?”
Morley chuckled. “I admire your nerve, Doc. You’re pretty much of a
man, all in all. But if you’re worrying any at all, which I doubt,
I’ll relieve your mind at once. Nothing serious is going to happen to
you. We just want you to go with us and perform one of your famous
operations on an old desert rat that wants pepping up a little so he
can take unto himself a girl-wife. There’s a big fee in it for you and
a nice little sum for Leach and me to get out of the country on.”
“Oh, a friend of yours?”
“Well, ‘friend’ is a pretty comprehensive word, Doc. Anyway, we’ve
known him a good many years.”
“Well,” said Shonto, after a brooding pause, “I’m sorry, but I haven’t
time to perform any operation just now. I’m about the busiest man in
the Shinbone Country, I imagine, so you’ll have to excuse me. Later,
perhaps.”
“Just as sorry as you are, Doc, but that’s not the way it’s scheduled
to come out. Leach and I might have put the matter up to you in an
ordinary way if we hadn’t seen you riding down the trail alone to-day.
We realize that the rest of your party must be in trouble somewhere up
there in the mountains, and that you’re probably going for help. So we
decided you wouldn’t listen to reason--and tied your ankles. Sorry to
disappoint your friends, but you’re going with us.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” was Shonto’s brief reply.
“No, not in the least, Doctor Shonto. You’re up against a stacked deck.
We’ve got your gun, of course, and, though I suspect that you’re a
pretty tough _hombre_ in a hand-to-hand mix-up, you can’t do much with
your ankles tied together. So just be reasonable and make the best of
it, and you’ll be free the sooner.”
“Humph!”
Dr. Shonto sat upright, thinking. Morley smiled as he noted the feet
constantly twitching and straining under the drab blankets.
“I’ll tell you,” said Shonto presently. “Things _are_ in a pretty
serious state up in the mountains. A man’s future, if not his life,
depends on my getting back to him in time. I’ll compromise with you:
I’ll give you my word of honour that, if you’ll let me go and attend to
what I have in mind, I’ll come back and perform whatever operation your
man wants, charge him nothing, and forget the entire matter.”
“Sounds good,” Morley replied. “And I don’t want you to think for a
minute that we doubt your word, Doctor. But we’re in a desperate hurry.
My wife is in hock, you might say, at Diamond H Ranch. Leach and I are
stripped. The season’s late for prospectors, and we’ve got to get on
our feet at once. We’re going to Australia on the money we get out of
this, and it’s a long trip. Delays are dangerous. No, you’ll have to
go with us to-night and get it over with. It won’t take long, I guess.
You’ll be on your way again in no time.”
“I’ll add as much as you’re to get from your client for this
kidnapping,” offered Shonto, “if you’ll postpone it.”
“That’s tempting,” admitted Morley, “but this is one of those times
when a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. No, it’ll be weeks,
maybe, before you’re ready. Leach and I can’t hold out that long. As
it is, we’ll be on the briny days before you’d be ready. No, Doc,
to-night’s the night.”
“I haven’t an instrument with which to perform any sort of operation,”
Shonto protested. “You don’t seem to realize that an operation of any
sort whatever is a delicate piece of business. I need a nurse, a table,
anæsthetics, the equipment that a first-class hospital provides--you
don’t know anything at all about it.”
Leach spoke up from the fireside: “This old bird is tough, Doc. All
you’ll have to do is scrape off the dirt and cut into ’im. Several
steers have operated on him already, and bad horses have broken half a
dozen bones for him. He can do without the fixings, I guess.”
“Well, some things are absolutely necessary,” said Shonto. “You’ll
admit that. And I can’t see--”
“Just leave all that to us, Doc,” Morley put in. “We’ll take you to
him, then you can give us a message to wire to Los Angeles, or wherever
your headquarters are located, and I’ll send it in. Have all you’ll
need in a couple of days, at most.”
Leach approached with two cups of half-cooked coffee.
“Better swallow a cup, Doc,” he suggested. “Brace you up for a long
night’s ride.”
Five minutes later, quite unexpectedly, Leach, who had passed behind
Dr. Shonto, dropped the noose of a lariat over his head, binding his
arms to his sides. The prospector took several turns about his body and
made a knot. Then the two unbound the doctor’s ankles and helped him to
his feet.
Whereupon the struggle began.
Shonto was a powerful man and a determined man. He had small hopes of
winning, but there was always a chance and he made the most of his
strength. Unable to use his hands, nevertheless he whipped about,
butted with his head, tripped with his feet, turned and squirmed, and
hurled himself into the kidnappers until the three were about the
busiest men in several counties.
But the outcome was inevitable. The lariat did not loosen, and Shonto’s
huge hands did not come into play. Time and again they bore him to the
ground, and, eventually, by reason of one of them having rested while
the other engaged the rebellious prisoner, they wore the doctor down.
Utterly exhausted, he remained passive while they lifted him to the
back of his own horse and confined his ankles again by passing a rope
from one to the other under the animal’s belly. Then they mounted,
urged the burros forward, and, with Morley leading the doctor’s horse
and Leach riding behind to see that nothing happened, they struck off
down the line of buttes. Out on the open desert, they headed into the
southwest in the direction of Tanburt’s Ranch.