THE STORY OF SMUGGLING
"Between this country and Mexico," began the deputy, "there's a strip
of land called the border--on one side U. S., and on the other
Greaser-land. You know all about that. Across this border run several
roads--passages into and from Mexico. And each of these roads is
patroled by United States officers.
"These men are placed there for a purpose, and one purpose among others
is to prevent the illegal sending into the States of Chinamen. You see
only so many foreigners from each nation are allowed to settle in the
United States each year, and once that quota is reached, no more will
be admitted. Naturally there are always men who want to come to the
"Land of Plenty" and make their fortunes, but unless these men are
within the quota for that year, they are forbidden to enter. All
Chinese are forbidden entry and have been for several years.
"But there are ways and means of getting around that situation.
Suppose a Chinaman wants to become rich. The first thing he thinks
about is America. All he has to do in America, he thinks, is to bend
over and pick up the gold pieces that are lying in heaps all over the
streets.
"So the Chinaman makes up his mind to come to America. He goes to Foy
Lee, a slick friend of his, to find out about it. Foy Lee says 'Good
thing you see me. Sure. I fix you up. Easy. You want go America?
All light. Can do. You got fifteen hundred dollah?' Now where would
a poor Chink get fifteen hundred dollars? He tells Foy Lee there ain't
that much money in the world. So Foy Lee starts thinkin'. He rubs the
top of his head, blinks his eyes, and grunts twice. Then he says, 'you
still want go America?' 'Sure!' our Chink answers. 'All light,' says
Foy Lee. 'You come with me.' The rascal knows all the time what to
do, only he wants to make it seem hard, so he can get his little rake
off.
"Foy Lee takes his friend to an office over on a side street in some
Chinese city. There he meets a man who guarantees him passage to U. S.
if the Chink will just sign the paper. That's all--no money nor
nuthin'--only sign the paper an' he gets to America. What is the
paper? Oh, just a promise that the Chink will pay the company that's
sending him all his future wages--less enough for food--until fifteen
hundred dollars have been paid. Just a mere matter of slavery, that's
what it amounts to.
"But the Chink signs. What's fifteen hundred in the land of 'plenty
dollah?' Now our Chink is put on a vessel bound for Mexico. There he
is met by an agent of the same company that put him on board in China.
"This agent takes him to a town, near the border--say Presidio, or some
such place. Then the real fun begins. The company notifies their man
at headquarters that the Chink has arrived and is ready to be shipped
across the border. Headquarters looks up the Chink's bond that he
signed in China, and which has been received through the mail, and
sends back word that everything is O. K., that the Chink, with several
others, is to be handed to a smuggler at a certain spot, to be smuggled
over the border. And when the Chink is so delivered the company's part
ends.
"After this the Chink's fate is in the hands of the smugglers, and if
they get caught, and the poor coot is sent back to China again by the
emigration authorities, he's still got to pay that fifteen hundred,
although all he got for his money was a long ride and hard treatment.
"The border runners take their consignment of Chinese and either pack
them in the back of an auto or wagon, or arrange to smuggle them across
some other way. If they're lucky, they get through. If not they get
hauled up by the border officers, and the runners get jail and the
Chinks are sent back to their native land. And even if they do get
through the lines the Chinks' troubles aren't over, for at any time
they're liable to be pulled in for not having what they call a 'chock
gee,' which is a government paper signifying they are here lawfully and
not by smuggling. I told you about that before.
"And that's how the game works. These smugglers get hold of a ranch
near the border so they can hide their Chinks when they get them
across, until the time is set to turn them loose. 'Course I can't say
that's what this place has been used for. But it would be great for
it."
The narrator paused and the Boy Ranchers drew long breaths of
excitement.
"Well, boys, what do you think about it?"
The tall deputy looked from one to the other. He was prepared for a
deluge of questions, and they came.
"Can't the Chinese counterfeit this 'chock gee'?"
"Who gets the fifteen hundred dollars?"
"Has that smuggling been going on here--near the Shooting Star?"
"Cease firing!" the deputy laughed. "I'll answer Bud's question first.
Yes, it _has_ been going on here--right past Roaring River. That's how
our marshal got shot up--tryin' to stop a load of Chinks from gettin'
through.
"That fifteen hundred, Dick, is divided between the men who actually do
the running, and the company that ships the Chinks to Mexico. The
smugglers get about five hundred a head for every man they get in. The
'chock gee' is often counterfeited, but not very successfully. It's
printed like a government bank bill, and is just as hard to fake."
For some time the discussion about smuggling went on. The deputy told
of the different tricks resorted to by the border runners in getting
their human cargo safely into the United States, and to what lengths
they will go to prevent capture. Boats are also used to transport the
Chinese to the American seacoast, Hawkins said, and if, by chance, the
runners were caught with a load of prospective undesirable Americans
they got out of the difficulty by the simple expedient of dumping the
Chinese into the sea.
Another method of transportation was for the smugglers to put off in a
small craft from a Mexican port, with a cargo of barrels and Chinese.
When the boat neared the United States coast the Chinese would be
nailed in the barrels and thrown overboard, to trust to the mercies of
Fate to bring them ashore. Often the wind blows in an offshore
direction, which spells death to the floating Chinese; weeks later they
are found dead, when the barrels pile up on some distant coast.
This system of sneaking Chinese into this country was well established,
said Hawkins, and the smugglers make use of scouts in small cars before
they attempt to bring a load of Chinese across the line. These scouts
ride swiftly along the route of the proposed entry, and locate,
definitely, the position of each border patrol, so that when the run is
actually made the driver of the car filled with Chinese knows the spots
to avoid.
Of course the Boy Ranchers were chiefly interested in the part their
new Shooting Star property might have played in this game of smuggling.
"And the fellow that lived here is the local head of that system!" Bud
exclaimed. "Say, we let a rare bird go when he escaped."
"We've still got a chance to get him," Dick declared. "He must be
around somewhere. That note--you saw the note we found, didn't you,
Mr. Hawkins?--well, that indicated we might look for another visit from
the coot. The Kid will be glad to see him, eh, Kid?"
"An' I don't mean maybe!" Yellin' Kid exploded. "Stealin' the best
bronc I ever had--just when I was gettin' him broken in proper--an' me
away out here in the wilderness with nothin' to ride----"
"I'll get you a pony," the deputy offered. "There's one I know of
that's a beaut--fast and strong. Friend of mine wants to sell her."
"I'd be sure grateful if you'd do that, mister. It sort of hits me
hard, losin' a good bronc like that."
"It wasn't your fault, Kid," Bud hastened to say. "And Dad will insist
on buying you another. So if Mr. Hawkins knows of one that will suit
you, take it. You'll fix him up with a horse then, Mr. Hawkins?"
"Depend on it," the tall deputy declared. "Now to business. I've told
you boys all I knew about the way smuggling is being done around here,
but I didn't do it just to be interestin'. I want you-all to help me."
"Sure!"
"That's what we're here for!"
"No, we're not, Kid," Bud corrected. "We're here to herd sheep. But
we'll certainly help Mr. Hawkins all we can."
"Here's the dope, boys," and the deputy leaned closer. "This Delton
may or may not have been doin' business here at the ranch. If he has
been, an' I'm goin' to figger that way, his friends still expect him to
be here. He left in too much of a hurry to send out word. An' here's
where you-all come in.
"I want you to pretend the ranch hasn't changed hands. Just lay low
for a while, not travelin' 'round much, an' we'll see what happens. I
don't mind tellin' you we got another tip, that some Chinks were goin'
to be rushed across within the next few days. Can't say just when, but
soon now. It's a big load this time, an' if things work the way I
think they will, they'll try to land them at this ranch."
"You mean they'll think Delton is still here?" Nort inquired excitedly.
"Yes. Of course I may be wrong--that may not be the plans at all. But
I've got pretty good reasons for thinkin' I'm right. We sort of
suspected that the Shootin' Star was bein' used for illegal purposes,
but we never had a chance to prove it. The place was too well guarded,
and without a warrant you can't go on another's property. I knew we'd
not find anything if we did search the place, for the Chinks are only
landed at night, and shipped away the next morning; scattered all over
the country. They all look so much alike it's hard to tell 'em apart."
"So you never really saw Delton?" asked Nort.
"Nope--never have. He never came to town--whatever stuff he wanted he
sent his men in for."
"Told you!" Billee Dobb cried. "I knew he never saw the geezer! Just
like I said--nobody was allowed in here with a badge on."
"Right again," the Kid said with a grin. "Billee's the only one of
this gang that seems to know his stuff."
"Well, that's the plan, boys," stated Mr. Hawkins. "Are you with me?"
"You bet!"
"Bring on the smugglers!"
"Kid, here's your chance to find out what became of your shirt!"
"Wait!" the deputy held up his hand. "We can't go into this thing like
that, boys! It's too dangerous. Enough men have been killed now by
the smugglers, and I don't want to add to the list. I thought a long
time before I came over this morning, and I finally decided I'd take a
chance on you. When I met you first I knew you were dependable men.
Remember--this is no joke! We've got to be ready to take what comes!"
The faces of the boys sobered in an instant.
"I guess you'll find you weren't far wrong," Bud said quietly. "We've
been in a few tight squeezes before--I suppose you heard of Del Pinzo?"
"Certainly. He was captured and jailed a while ago. Don't know
whether he got out since or not."
"Well, we are the ones who put him there," Bud went on in a quiet tone.
"No! Why say,--I remember you now! I saw you bring him in! Well,
well! So that's the way of things! Boys, I'm sure glad I met you!
Between us we ought to make a go of this. So you captured Del Pinzo!
Now here's another job for you. What do you think of this idea?"
The boys leaned close as they prepared to hear the deputy's plan.