THE UNMASKING OF JERRY
As far as the dam was concerned and the work going on there, things
were quiet for the next day or two. But the situation between the
United States and Mexico seemed to be growing more and more tense. From
the border came rumors of dissatisfaction caused by the presence of
American troops on patrol duty and the deportation of Mexicans from the
United States back into their country. As these reports multiplied they
furnished a topic of discussion for all. The American element feared
especially the effects any serious clash might have on the work at the
dam and openly discussed the possibility that an attack of some sort
might be made on the work itself.
Bob learned that the cattlemen were strongly in favor of having the
United States go into Mexico and stay there until things had been
settled for keeps. The most outspoken of the crowd wanted the United
States to conquer and then to annex Mexico, feeling that it was the
only way in which peace could be assured for any length of time. The
reason for their feeling was that the ranchers along the border were in
constant fear of cattle rustlers, who, once they were in Mexico with
their booty, were safe from pursuit. Under Diaz, who had ruled Mexico
firmly, there had been no great trouble. In those days raids were few
and they were quite as likely to have been made by American outlaws as
by Mexicans. Besides, Diaz would, wherever it was possible, aid in the
return of the stolen property. Since he had lost control things had
changed. The constant revolutions that came after him left the border
states without law and order. All sorts of robbery and murder were
permitted to go unpunished.
Even the builders of the dam often felt that intervention was the only
way out of a bad situation. Bob was sure that this unsettled condition
was responsible for Mr. Whitney’s being away from the work at a time
when matters were in such a ticklish condition.
Nothing new had developed in the plot which he felt was being
formed between the cattlemen and the Mexicans by means of Jerry.
Feather-in-the-Wind had not reported anything further. What worried Bob
most was his suspicions regarding Jerry King. Although he was sure that
Jerry was not doing what he should, he realized that all he had to go
on was circumstantial evidence. He had no real proof!
But he could not trust Jerry, and the feeling worried him. When Sunday
came around without the return of Mr. Whitney he determined to make a
last effort to find out just where Jerry stood. He did not dare risk
coming out into the open and asking Jerry what his suspicious movements
meant. If Jerry were guilty of wrong-doing, he would at once know that
Bob was onto something. In that case it was quite possible that Jerry
would fire the first gun before Bob was ready to combat it.
There was only one other thing which seemed practicable. Of course it
had in it a great element of chance as to his finding out anything of
value. But he determined to try it for want of anything better.
On Sunday morning he was up before his room-mate, and when the latter
came out the front door of the Quarter-house he was waiting for him.
“Going up river again to-day, Jerry?” asked Bob.
“Thought I would,” answered Jerry shortly, but halting.
“Think I’ll go along then,” stated Bob as casually as possible. “I’ve
never been up that way and I’d like to see the country that the lake
will cover.”
Jerry was taken aback and for a moment he hesitated before answering.
“Why--why you never wanted to go before and I--I don’t think I can take
you with me to-day.”
“I don’t care where you’re going,” said Bob laughing. “We’ll go
exploring, like we did at the Labyrinth.”
“But--but,” stammered Jerry, “I’m going to see somebody. They expect
me.”
“Oh, let them wait,” said Bob. “You can go next Sunday. We haven’t been
out together for a long time. Come on, be a sport.”
There was nothing to it. Evidently Jerry saw that Bob was determined to
go and he was afraid that if he refused it would look funny. Bob saw
the hesitancy and continued:
“Besides, I’d like to see a ranch. I’ve never been to one since we came
out here. The people you’re going to see won’t mind my coming along,
will they?”
Again Jerry hesitated and Bob realized that a struggle was going on
within him.
At last Jerry said with forced enthusiasm, “All right, old man, come
along. I reckon there’s another nag for you down at the stables. We’ll
go up to old man Holman’s ranch. He asked me to come up for dinner.
There’s always an extra place for anyone who stops by.”
Bob was rather elated that his plan had worked so far and they started
off mounted on a couple of bronchos that the stable in the lower camp
provided.
As they rode along Bob ignored Jerry’s evident irritation, knowing
that it was caused by his forced presence. He talked about a thousand
things. Jerry tried to answer in a light and casual manner but he made
a rather bad attempt at it.
The sun was hot as they rode and they kept close to the winding river
where there was some vegetation and a few trees that gave a little
shelter. After they had covered several miles they came upon crude
attempts at irrigation which extended the fertility of the land back
some distance from the river.
“These canals were started by the Indians,” said Jerry, “and were made
bigger and longer by the white settlers. When we get up to Holman’s
you’ll see some real irrigation.”
They did. Bob realized they were approaching the ranch by the sight of
broad green fields which were watered by orderly ditches and laterals
spreading out from the main canals like the branches of a tree. Here
and there were gates which could be used to direct the water down any
given canal or ditch.
“I thought Holman was a cattleman,” said Bob. “This looks as if he were
a farmer.”
“He is a cattleman, though,” was the answer. “The range is to the
north. A branch river flows into the Rio Grande and forms a triangle
of green grazing. Holman has put in this irrigation merely to grow
crops necessary for house use. It’s taken him years to make this place,
and the dam we’re building will wipe it out overnight.”
“That’s tough luck,” said Bob, thinking that if he sympathized Jerry
might let something fall which would be useful. But his ruse did not
work, for Jerry merely said:
“It is pretty hard, but when the dam is built there’ll be many other
fields below the dam. He’ll have to move down there, that’s all.”
There was very little more chance for conversation, as they were
rapidly approaching a low, adobe house surrounded by outbuildings which
were evidently stables and laborers’ houses. When they galloped in they
were hailed by a bunch of cowboys who were perched on the corral fence.
Jerry answered them with a shout and waved his hand but continued to
lead the way to the main building. On the porch two men were sitting in
chairs tilted up against the wall. Jerry introduced Bob to them.
“This is my friend, Bob Hazard, Mr. Holman,” he said. “Wanted to come
and see a ranch. He is a rodman down at the dam.”
“Glad to make your acquaintance,” said the man Jerry had addressed.
He was rather stout. Humorous eyes twinkled from under bushy brows.
“Glad to show ye what we got, though we ain’t goin’ to have it long if
you fellows keep on buildin’ that there dam. Meet up with my foreman,”
he said turning to the other man.
“Hello, Link,” said Jerry. “I didn’t bring Bob up only to show him the
ranch, but to let you give him a square meal for once. If you’ve still
got Sing Lee properly trained he’ll get it!”
The man Jerry had addressed as Link got up and gravely extended his
hand to Bob.
“I figure you won’t go away hungry,” he said in a voice Bob was
surprised to find was cultivated and soft. “The old man here sees to it
that we get enough. It won’t be long either. I’ll go and see. I’m sort
of housekeeper as well as foreman around this hang-out. Fine job for a
full-grown man.”
With that he disappeared into the house.
“Must be a big help to have Link around, isn’t it, Mr. Holman?” said
Jerry.
“You said something, my boy. The only trouble is I can’t _keep_ him
around. He’s been with me a dozen times but he always goes away again.
Sometimes he ups and leaves overnight and then I’m out a foreman. But
he knows he can always come back. When he is here he makes things hum.
Besides, he’s the only man who can make the Chink cook a good meal.”
Then he turned to Bob. “Soon’s we’ve had something to eat I’ll have one
of the boys show you around the place. You must be hungry after your
ride, ’specially if you’re not used to riding.”
Bob laughed, “We get enough to do week days on the dam to get up a
pretty good appetite. But I won’t deny that I’ll be ready when the
dinner bell rings. We’ve got a Mexican cook where we grub and he’s a
lot better on quantity than quality.”
“That’s right,” said the rancher; “Greasers are all like that. If
they start to rustle off some of our cattle they go in and take a big
bunch. Don’t seem to make much difference what sort they lift. They
just take the nearest to hand.” He grew serious. “I want to tell you
boys it’s getting bad. I had more cattle stole the last two year than
ever before. I wish the United States would make up its mind to go into
Mexico and clean out that bunch of thieves. It’s the only way we’ll
ever get any peace here on the border.”
Bob was interested in this view of the matter.
“Do you think that will help, sir?” he asked.
“I sure do. It’s disgraceful that we ain’t gone in there a’ready. The
Greasers are killing our people and doing everything they can to raise
trouble. Why I’d do almost anything myself to get things started down
there. I own a bunch of land there that I was planning to use when that
dam you’re a-buildin’ runs me out o’ here, but, shucks, it ain’t worth
a jitney to me now, an’ won’t be onless Uncle Sam gets a move on pretty
quick.”
“I think you’re right,” put in Jerry. “There ought to be nothing but
the United States between Canada and the Panama Canal. But I don’t
think we’ll go into Mexico unless the Mexicans raid our territory and
kill somebody.”
“If they did that,” exploded the rancher, “there’d be nothing to it. We
would be obliged to go in. I could come mighty nigh wishing somebody a
hurt if ’twould bring it about.”
Then before the conversation went further the foreman came out the
door. Bob noticed for the first time how powerful was the man’s build.
He was tall and rangy, yet he seemed to radiate power.
“Come on in, folks,” he said. “Sing Lee’s done himself proud.”
During the meal the conversation was without any special interest, but
afterwards, when Mr. Holman had retired for his siesta, Link O’Day
joined the boys on the porch. The talk drifted from cattle to farming
and from farming to forestry. On this topic the man spoke not only with
knowledge but with enthusiasm.
“It’s great stuff,” he stated. “Formerly the lumberman would go into a
forest and cut his lumber without any regard for the future. What he
did not use he would ruin. It was not until most of the harm was done
that the Government woke up to the fact that in a few years more there
would be no more timber worthy of the name.”
“Now it’s against the law to cut trees under a certain diameter, isn’t
it?” put in Jerry King. Bob saw the great interest that Jerry showed
in the subject and all during the conversation he felt that a close
attachment was being formed between Link O’Day and the boy. Probably
one of the chief attractions the ranch had held for Jerry before he had
become mixed up in the Mexican tangle was the relationship with this
man. While Bob was thinking these things O’Day had answered Jerry’s
question in the affirmative and had proceeded:
“Yes, but there is a lot more to forestry than that. I’d like to show
you some day how modern logging is done.”
“Sort of _gets_ me,” was Jerry’s enthusiastic comment. “Somehow the
thought of shady woods sounds mighty attractive after the dose of sun
and desert I’ve had the last couple of years. How about you, Bob?”
“Interesting all right, but I wouldn’t swap the Service for it by a
long shot!”
“You’re a Service bug,” smiled Jerry, who had lost all signs of being
uneasy. “I bet you’ll be an engineer all your life.”
“I hope so,” Bob answered. “Won’t you?”
“I don’t think so. There are a lot of other things I’d rather do if I
had the chance. Forestry’s one of ’em,” he finished with a smile at the
ranch foreman.
“If you still feel that way in the fall, I might take you along with me
when I drift out. I’ll be going up north then, I think.”
“Will you? That would be great!”
The man nodded and for a moment Bob was amazed at the look of
resemblance that was common to both. They might have been brothers or
father and son.
“We’ll talk more about it later,” was what he said. “Now, young Hazard,
if you want to see the ranch I’ll go along with you. Coming, Jerry?”
“No, Link, I guess not. I’ve seen it all and I think I’ll go down and
visit with the boys at the bunkhouse till you get back.”
Bob thought he detected a glance of understanding flash from one to
the other but put it down to his being suspicious of everything that
occurred. He accepted O’Day’s invitation and they moved off the veranda
in separate directions.
Bob instinctively liked the man who was showing him what had been done
to reclaim the desert. By the time they got back to the house they had
become good friends and the man had asked the boy to come up and visit
the ranch again.
They found Jerry at the bunkhouse sitting in a game of poker with four
or five of the cowboys. The players asked Bob to take a hand in the
game but he refused. He had never played cards for money and he never
intended to. Somehow, he was surprised that Jerry was playing; he had
never mentioned cards, but Bob had always felt that Jerry was not that
sort. He watched for a moment and saw that Jerry was evidently quite
far behind. He was flushed and nervous.
“Come on, Jerry,” Bob said; “let’s be getting back.”
“No,” snapped the other. “I’m not ready. Go along yourself if you’re in
such a hurry.” Then he went on with the game.
But before Bob left he heard a name which he recognized. Someone had
spoken to one of the players calling him “Harper.” He tried to think
where he had heard the name before. Then it came to him. Harper was
one of the men Ted Hoyt had told him about who had tried to make Ted’s
father join in the plot against the dam. Although Bob had started for
the door he stopped. Possibly the other man Wesley was here too. He
was, for a moment later Jerry said:
“I’ll call you, Wesley,” and shoved some chips to the center of the
table. The man addressed, a rather villainous looking person, smiled
and laid down his hand. Jerry did not smile. He threw his cards face
down on the table. He had lost.
Bob’s mind began to act quickly. The links of his chain of evidence
against Jerry were rapidly coming together. From Ted he had learned
that Wesley and Harper represented the most desperate faction of
the cattlemen; they were the spokesmen of the crowd that wanted the
Mexicans to do real damage to the dam. Here they were gambling with
Jerry and winning from him.
Wasn’t there a likelihood that they were doing this to get the boy
under some obligation to them? If so, it was a point against Jerry.
Then, Jerry was intimate with Miguel, who undoubtedly was the leader of
the dissatisfied and reckless element among the Mexican laborers. The
cattlemen had no way of getting in touch with the Mexicans at the dam
without being suspected of some treachery. Hence Jerry’s coming to them
might possibly have been a lucky thing from their standpoint. Still all
this was circumstantial and as yet Bob had no proof. But everything
that happened made him more and more suspicious of Jerry’s good faith.
At last he slipped out of the bunkhouse, went up and said good-bye to
his host and rode off in the direction of home. In all probability
Jerry would not come home until late.
Bob made his way back toward the dam slowly, his mind too busy with
the situation in which he found himself to pay much attention to
the beauties of the landscape. Before he had gone many miles he was
surprised to hear the sounds of galloping hoofs coming behind him.
His first thought was that Jerry had changed his mind and was going
to accompany him back to camp. But the noise was more than one horse
could make, so he was prepared to see strangers ride past him. He
turned in his saddle as the first horse came around the bend in the
trail.
It was Jerry, closely followed by the men he had identified as Wesley
and Harper! In a moment they caught up to him and stopped. But Jerry’s
first words were more surprising than his sudden appearance.
“What’d you sneak off for like that?” he said sneeringly. “Going back
to tell the boss you caught me gambling?”
Jerry’s two companions had reined up also and were waiting for the
answer. Bob quickly saw the object of this maneuver. After he had gone
one of them had suspected that his being at the ranch with Jerry was
not just an innocent visit. Probably they had struck on what was really
the truth of the matter--that Bob was suspicious in a general way of
Jerry and had taken a chance that he might learn something definite
if he came out and spent a day with him. Evidently Jerry had not been
able to make Wesley and Harper believe that Bob’s suspicions had been
quieted and they had insisted on following him on the pretext of
shutting him up about the poker business. This was to be used only as
a cloak under which to threaten him against telling anyone of _any_
suspicions he might have. They hoped in this way to frighten him into
silence.
But Bob would not be frightened. He realized that the time had come
when there could be no more fighting under cover. Throwing his head up
and looking Jerry in the eyes he said quietly,
“You know that I won’t tell Whitney about your poker playing. What I am
going to tell him is that you’re a traitor to the Service.”
Jerry quailed before the thrust. “What--what do you mean?” he stammered.
“Yes, what do you mean?” said one of the men threateningly.
“I mean that you and the cattlemen are planning to interfere and delay
the work of the Service! For the cattlemen it is only a crime. But for
you to help them, is treachery!”
As he spoke Bob did not flinch before the threatening attitude of the
two cowboys. “You little shrimp,” said Wesley. “I’ve got half a mind
to wring your neck and throw you in the bushes.”
Bob paid no attention to him. “Jerry,” he said, “is it true? If you
tell me now it isn’t I’ll believe that you just got mixed up in the
poker game and--and--Oh, Jerry, I can’t believe it. Please--please tell
me it isn’t true.”
For a moment Bob thought he had won, for there was a look in his former
chum’s eyes as if he was struggling to express something he could not
say aloud. But Jerry’s words belied the message of his eyes.
“Why--why of course not. Why of--of course it isn’t true. I--I don’t
know what you mean. I--I--”
From this hesitating manner Bob knew that Jerry was guilty.
“You are lying,” he said evenly. “Traitor!”