AN UNEXPECTED ALLY
The following night, just as Bob was about to turn in, Ted Hoyt knocked
at his door. Evidently Ted had come in a hurry, for he was covered with
dust and was breathing hard.
“You were right, Bob,” he panted. “The cattle bunch are behind any
trouble that might get unhitched. But come along with me and we’ll talk
as I start back. I’ll lose my pull with the old man if he catches on
that I’ve been away from the house. I had to slip out the window to get
up here as it is. The sooner I get back the less chance that he’ll get
wise!”
Once they were out of the house they started in the direction of the
Hoyt ranch. “Now, tell me about it,” urged Bob.
“Well,” Ted replied, “I hung around the house all day yesterday and
worked like a dog. Dad was tickled to death when I got back. Thought
that I’d proved by coming back that he was right. But he took good
care to give me a bunch of stiff jobs all the same. I didn’t get onto
anything yesterday until about ten o’clock. I had hit the hay but had
not gone to sleep, when Dave Wesley and John Harper rode in. Both of
’em are cattlemen and they were some lit up, believe me. They had been
down to Las Cruces and had mopped up all the liquor in sight. They had
been around the ranch a lot recently but I had not paid much attention
to them. When they came along before they had long confabs with Dad,
but took care to have them where they could not be overheard. Last
night they were not so careful and in spite of all my old man could do
they talked and talked loud. The booze made ’em careless, I reckon,
’cause I heard them all right.”
“What did they say?” asked Bob, quickly.
“A whole heap. It seems that the talk was in town that the lid was
going to blow off down at the border and that if they could get the
Greasers riled up on the dam, the trouble would not be laid to them but
simply on the general bad blood between the Mexicans and Americans.
Wesley and Harper were so enthusiastic they wanted to blow up the
spillway and the mixing plant. Even in their enthusiasm they realized
that the portion of the dam already built would be more than a job for
dynamite.”
“But what did your father say to all this?”
“Thank heaven, he wouldn’t stand for the rough stuff. He told them that
just out of sheer meanness he would not mind delaying things, but when
it came to blowing up Government stuff and laying it onto the Mexicans,
it looked too much like treachery for him. He was American--that the
plan did not seem like the American way of doing things. Gee, I was
proud of him. Finally the other two men started to raise thunder with
the old man and he kicked them out. That’s all. I reckon I found out
what you wanted, didn’t I?”
“You bet you did,” was Bob’s answer. “Good for you. I don’t think there
is any question but what the cattlemen are behind this.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” was the other’s answer. “But I’m sure glad
my old man isn’t mixed up in it any more than he is. I s’pose you want
me to go back and stick around home? Don’t want to much--things are
more’n likely going to happen round here and I’d like to be on the job.”
“Yes,” said Bob, “I do. I don’t think you’ll have to stay there long
because if anything happens it’ll happen quick. After that I don’t
think even your dad will be against your doing what you want.”
“But what about Jerry?” asked Ted. “Has he come back?”
“He’s been back twice,” said Bob, “and I don’t know what to make of it.”
He told Ted of the happening at the foot of the cable tower.
“Don’t let him fool you,” said Ted when he had listened to the end of
the story. “Jerry’s mixed up in this as sure as shooting, and he’s
putting on that careless attitude just as a blind.”
“I’m afraid you’re right, Ted,” said Bob. “But I sure hate to think it.”
They had covered quite a lot of ground while talking and now Ted spoke.
“Don’t come any further. Beat it back. I reckon we’ve told each other
everything we know. Good night. I’ll come back again as soon as I hear
anything new.”
Bob started to retrace his steps but he had not gone far before he was
aware that soft footsteps were following him. He turned in his tracks
and stood still. A moment later the Indian he had befriended the night
before slipped up beside him.
“Feather-in-the-Wind is watching Boss Bob,” he said quietly. “Greasers
in show last night make big talk. Swear much. They hurt you because you
help me. When you go out I follow. Now I go home with you.”
Bob was overcome with astonishment. Not for a minute had he thought
that the episode of last night would have brought on him more than
the passing enmity of the Mexicans, but he realized that the Apache
probably knew what he was about. Then it came to him that if there
was bad blood between the Indians and Mexicans, in all probability
Feather-in-the-Wind would know if there was any trouble brewing amongst
the Mexicans themselves.
“It was good of you,” he said as gravely as the Indian had spoken. “But
you can help me further perhaps.”
Feather-in-the-Wind signified his willingness to do what he could by a
nod of his head.
“Your people and the Mexicans--they do not get along together?”
Again a nod.
“You like Big Boss Whitney?”
“Big Boss good to my people. Not let storekeeper cheat or Greaser
hurt,” was the answer.
“You want to help the Big Boss?”
Once more a gesture of assent.
“Listen. Big Boss thinks the Mexicans will start trouble. Does not know
what man is responsible--what man is saying big words and starting
trouble. You can help if you find out and tell me who the man is.”
“Yes, can do,” stated the Indian, and as they had approached the upper
camp during their talk, he made a swift move of the hand in farewell
and slipped swiftly into the shadows.
“Gee, but he went quick,” said Bob to himself, “and I wanted to put him
wise to Miguel! Well, he’s gone, so there’s no use bothering. Now to
tell Mr. Whitney the dope Ted brought!”
But when he came to it, the front of the Chief’s cottage was dark. A
ray of light came from the kitchen and Bob went to the back.
“Where’s the Boss?” he demanded of the Chinaman who served Mr. Whitney.
“Gone to bed?”
“Nope. Boss man he gone downside El Paso. Get little yellow tlicket,
gone off slam blang!”
From which Bob gathered that a telegram had called the boss from the
job and that it was his job to sit up alone with his troubles until the
Chief chose to come back.