JEEK MEETS THE TRAMPS
Jeek, Fallon, and Carey, pals of several years standing, and birds of
a feather, made their way along the lake trail steadily, their packs
not so large as those carried by the boys, for the reason that they had
already been to their camp once and had gone back to Todds to get more
food.
“Those kids are not in sight,” muttered Fallon as they passed the
Parsons’ camp, the fellow looking out of the side of his eye at the
place.
“They’re there, though,” answered Jeek. “See the smoke pouring from
that chimney? Chances are they are out hunting or fishing on the lake.”
Nothing more was said about the boys, while the trio proceeded along
the trail, knowing it well.
“Hay!” suddenly called Jeek, as he lifted his head upon reaching the
crest of the trail and looked down to see smoke issuing from one of the
two cabins by the lake.
“What’s all this? Somebody in there? Fallon, I thought you locked that
place,” cried Jeek, turning accusingly on his friend.
Fallon admitted that he had not locked the place, not thinking it
necessary in view of their being away but a few days at Todds.
Having no idea of what was happening, not knowing whether they would
be met in a friendly way or not, Jeek drew a revolver from beneath his
mackinaw and led the way straight across the intervening space to the
log cabin.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Thrice he rapped at the heavy door with the butt of
the revolver.
“Who’s there?” came a call from within the cabin.
Jeek tried the door, but it did not yield.
“Open this door and find out!” he cried.
Inside the cabin Snadder looked at Blinky and Blinky looked back,
neither able to calculate on the best defense to make, both feeling
guilty.
Again came the knocking on the door with the gun.
Snadder strode to the door and threw the latch to one side, just as
Jeek placed his shoulder against the strong door, and, as it swung
inward, the heavy race-track follower staggered into the living room,
trying to catch his balance, his arms going into the air, while the gun
seemed to Snadder as large as a cannon.
Instantly the two tramps had their hands in the air, before commanded
to do so, for they were plainly outnumbered and did not know what arms
the other men might have nor whether such arms might be used.
“What are you guys doing here?” blurted out Jeek angrily.
“Just came in here out of the cold, mister,” Snadder tried to
conciliate the three newcomers.
“Eating up the stores, too, eh?” went on Jeek, striding into the small
rear room to see empty cans scattered on the floor beneath the bunk.
“Sure, we ate a little, mister. But we’re willing to pay you,” whined
Blinky, hoping he could get affairs on a more friendly basis by such an
offer.
It was evident, however, that Jeek and his two companions were not
going to let the tramps get by so easily.
“Best thing you can do is to get out of here!” said Fallon, making room
by stepping further into the place. This left an unobstructed passage
through the doorway.
A great deal more light was thus let into the room, and both the tramps
instantly recognized, as Jeek pulled off his mackinaw, this burly man
of the race-tracks.
Blinky started to recall the acquaintance, but Snadder was too quick
and interrupted long enough to hinder Blinky, at the same time putting
a hand on Blinky’s shoulder and squeezing it slightly.
“Mister,” he said to Fallon, “can’t we make some kind of a deal? We’re
broke, flat broke! We ain’t got a cent, and nothing to eat. Can’t we
stay here and work for you fellows?”
“Not a chance!” Fallon’s voice came with a roar as he realized these
two strangers were afraid. His courage was aroused by the lack of any
aggressiveness. “Get out of here and get out quick. Suppose we want you
two dirty hounds around here with gentlemen?”
Though Snadder was a common tramp, though he was without means of
living and down in the world, as the saying goes, yet he had a sense of
humor and his mind was not sluggish.
“Where do you get that stuff about gentlemen? You think you’re the only
gentlemen around here?” he bristled up.
Fallon’s courage fell slightly, but he had to stand his ground. His
hand started for a spot beneath his coat.
“Wait a minute,” Snadder fairly yelped, losing temper now, for his own
recollection of things of the past was not bad. “You pull a gun on me
and I’ll twist your head off!”
Jeek reached for the gun which he had in his hand when he entered, but
which he had tossed to the mantel shelf when he removed his mackinaw.
“You, too, Jeek!” called Snadder. “Maybe you don’t remember me so
good, but don’t you point that gun at me!”
Jeek started as he heard his name called in such familiar fashion by
this tramp. His hand did not grasp the weapon.
Snadder took advantage of the situation on the second, knowing that he
had the upper hand for a little while, at least. He now proceeded to
make the best of it.
“You remember Blinky, don’t you, Jeek?” he said. “Well, I’m Snadder,
who used to cook in hashhouses and Blinky was a stableman on some of
the same race-tracks where you used to be. Guess you remember us, eh?”
A frown came scowling across the face of the burly race-track follower,
and his upper lip curled away from his teeth of yellow tinge.
“I don’t know either of you!” he spat out the words in contempt of the
two men and of Snadder’s words.
“You don’t, eh?” Snadder wondered why this man didn’t wish to continue
the acquaintance of several years ago. “Maybe you will remember Blinky
better if I remind you of the time that the two of you doped that horse
_Maybe So_ and you put too much dope and the horse took sick. And maybe
if I remind you----”
“Shut up!” roared Jeek. “I don’t know nothing about any of that
crooked stuff. I was never on a race-track----”
Blinky, usually whining in his attitude, now was bristling with anger
over the failure of Jeek to recognize him after he had helped the tout
and paddock bettor in many a race-track game.
He shook a pudgy, fat fist at the burly red-faced man, anger almost
hindering him from uttering words; but he managed to say:
“Maybe you don’t remember the time you swiped a hypodermic needle and
used it on two horses in the same stable where I was working, and maybe
you don’t remember that you paid me ten bucks to keep still when they
started investigating!”
This appeared to hit Jeek a little harder than Snadder’s remarks. As a
result he yelped at Fallon to close the door, which, during all this
conversation, had been standing wide open, cooling the rooms down to an
uncomfortable temperature.
“Tell you what you fellows do,” he snapped, when the door had been
closed. “Get in a pile of logs and cut us a fresh supply right away.
Meanwhile we’ll talk this over among ourselves and see what can be done
about you.”
Snadder knew he and Blinky had won in their skirmish, and yielded to
the suggestion of Jeek, for there was at least this much in prospect;
that, after the three men talked over the matter, Snadder and Blinky
might have a place to sleep and something to eat for a few days more.
In an hour’s time they had brought in enough logs to keep the fire
going for two days, and they had also enough additional wood cut on the
outside for two days after that.
“Tell you what we’ll do,” said Jeek, when the announcement was made
that the tramps had done their part of the bargain. “You two fellows go
over to that other cabin, start a good fire there, get the place warmed
up good, and then we’ll take that place and you can have this for a few
days--don’t know how long, because we’re going to hunt for that big
bull moose and maybe we’ll be going to town pretty soon.”
The truce was made, the two tramps soon had the larger cabin toasty
warm and the transfer was made, the two tramps having to haul over the
canned food to the larger cabin. Jeek was determined that he should
govern the amount which they had.
By this time the afternoon was spent and darkness was coming on them.
As Snadder and Blinky were hauling in an armful of the canned goods,
they heard Jeek in the living room of the larger place saying:
“Them boys have got to pay for that dog--one way for another. They’re
up here at the Parsons’ camp, and they’ve come after the old king
moose, same as we have. Now, they ain’t going to get it, because I’m
going to see they get chased back to Columbia.”
Snadder nudged the fat Blinky, and both listened.
“Did you try to make his father pay for the dog?” asked Carey.
“Didn’t have time. We were in a hurry to get up here, and they tell
me old man Allen has just had a fire and an accident, so I figured
he wouldn’t be in a humor to pay. But we can make that boy pay, all
right,” Jeek rambled on.
Whatever Carey said was in a low tone of voice, and the tramps did not
get the import of it.
But they decided that the same boys that had put them out of the
Parsons’ camp were the ones that Jeek meant. The fact that the letter
“P” was on some of the silver led to this conclusion.
Snadder stuck his head into the doorway, speaking:
“Jeek, are you talking about them boys about a mile back in that
good-looking camp? They put us out of their camp a couple of days ago,
and I’ve got it in for one of them, the young fellow that’s the leader.
He acted too smart to suit me.”
Jeek scrutinized the face of the tramp rather closely before he made
any reply, for this might get him into too tight a fix.
“What did they look like?” he asked guardedly.
Snadder described each of the boys very minutely.
“Yes, they’re the young upstarts. They belong at a town down the
Harrapin River--Columbia. All swell-headed,” he added. “They killed
my dog the other day and I was going to use him at this camp. Dog was
worth a couple of hundred dollars.” Jeek went on to explain what he
thought of the group of boys.
“Can’t you make them pay for killing a dog in this state? Mighty funny
laws if you can’t,” suggested Snadder.
“I don’t know nothing about the laws of the state, but I know they’re
going to pay for that dog--somehow. Fact is, I don’t know as they
belong in this region right now, anyhow. I think their health would be
better back home.” Jeek threw out these remarks as bait to the tramps.
But, from the conversational point of view, there was no reaction.
Snadder knew that Jeek would do some thinking.