THE EXPRESS MESSENGER
We slept late the following morning, and awoke tired, as though we had
been on a long journey.
"Now," said Johnny, when our after-breakfast pipes had been lit, "we've
got to get together. There's two serious questions before the house: the
first and most important is, who and what is Danny Randall?"
"I agree with you there," said I heartily.
"And the second is, what are we going to do with ourselves?"
"I'm going to begin mining," I stated.
"All right, old strong-arm; I am not. I'm dead sick of cricking my back
and blistering my hands. It isn't my kind of work; and the only reason I
ever thought it was is because the stuff we dig is called gold."
"You aren't going to lie down?" I cried incredulously.
"No, old sport, I'm not going to lie down. I came out here to make my
fortune; but I don't know that I've got to dig gold to do that."
"What are you going to do?"
"That I don't know," confessed Johnny, "but I'll be able to inform you
in a few days. I suppose you'll be going back to the Porcupine?"
"I don't know about that," said I seriously. "I don't believe the
Porcupine is any richer than these diggings, and it's mighty uncertain.
I believe a man's more apt to keep what he gets here, and there's a lot
more company, and----"
"In other words, you're going to stick around old Yank or know the
reason why!" interrupted Johnny with a little smile.
I flushed, hesitated, then blurted out: "Well, yes. I shouldn't be easy
about him here by himself. It strikes me this is a tough camp, and
almost anything's likely to happen."
"I feel the same way," confessed Johnny. "We're all partners. All right;
'stick' it is. We'll have to be mighty plausible to keep Yank quiet.
That's agreed," he grinned. "Now I'm going up to town to find out about
Danny Randall, and incidentally to look around for something to do.
You're a good steady liar; you go over and talk to Yank."
We separated until noon. I had no great difficulty with Yank, either
because I was, as Johnny said, a plausible liar, or because Yank was
secretly glad to have us near. After visiting with him a while I took
the axe and set about the construction of a cradle. Johnny returned near
twelve o'clock to find me at this useful occupation.
"As to Danny Randall," he began at once, squatting near by: "Origin lost
in mists of obscurity. First known in this country as guide to a party
of overland immigrants before the gold discovery. One of the original
Bear Flag revolutionists. Member of Fremont's raiders in the south.
Showed up again at Sonoma and headed a dozen forays after the
horse-thieving Indians and half-breeds in the San Joaquin. Seems now to
follow the mines. Guaranteed the best shot with rifle or pistol in the
state. Guaranteed the best courage and the quietest manners in the
state. Very eminent and square in his profession. That's his entire
history."
"What is his profession?" I asked.
"He runs the Bella Union."
"A gambler?" I cried, astonished.
"Just so--a square gambler."
I digested this in silence for a moment.
"Did you discover anything for yourself?" I asked at last.
"Best job ever invented," said Johnny triumphantly, "at three ounces a
day; and I can't beat that at your beastly digging."
"Yes?" I urged.
"I invented it myself, too," went on Johnny proudly. "You remember what
Randall--or the doctor--said about the robberies, and the bodies of the
drowned men floating? Well, every man carries his dust around in a belt
because he dare not do anything else with it. I do myself, and so do
you; and you'll agree that it weighs like the mischief. So I went to
Randall and I suggested that we start an express service to get the
stuff out to bank with some good firm in San Francisco. He fell in with
the idea in a minute. My first notion was that we take it right through
to San Francisco ourselves; but he says he can make satisfactory
arrangements to send it in from Sacramento. That's about sixty miles;
and we'll call it a day's hard ride through this country, with a change
of horses. So now I'm what you might call an express messenger--at three
good ounces a day."
"But you'll be killed and robbed!" I cried.
Johnny's eyes were dancing.
"Think of the fun!" said he.
"You're a rotten shot," I reminded him.
"I'm to practise, under Danny Randall, from now until the first trip."
"When is that?"
"Do you think we'll advertise the date? Of course I'd tell you, Jim; but
honestly I don't know yet."
Since the matter seemed settled, and Johnny delighted, I said no more.
My cradle occupied me for three days longer. In that length of time
Johnny banged away an immense quantity of ammunition, much of it under
the personal supervision of Danny Randall. The latter had his own ideas
as to the proper practice. He utterly refused to let Johnny shoot at a
small mark or linger on his aim.
"It's only fairly accurate work you want, but quick," said he. "If you
practise always getting hold of your revolver the same way, and squeeze
the trigger instead of jerking it, you'll do. If you run against robbers
it isn't going to be any target match."
When my cradle was finished, I went prospecting with a pan; and since
this was that golden year 1849, and the diggings were neither crowded
nor worked out, I soon found 'colour.' There I dragged my cradle, and
set quite happily to work. Since I performed all my own labour, the
process seemed slow to me after the quick results of trained
cooperation; yet my cleanings at night averaged more than my share used
to be under the partnership. So I fell into settled work, well content.
A week later Johnny rode up on a spirited and beautiful horse, proud as
could be over his mount.
He confided to me that it was one of the express horses; that the first
trip would be very soon; and that if I desired to send out my own
savings, I could do so. I was glad to do this, even though the rates
were high; and we easily persuaded Yank of the advisability. Nobody
anticipated any danger from this first trip, for the simple reason that
few knew anything about it. Randall and his friends made up the amount
that could be carried by the three men. For the first time I learned
that Johnny had companions. They started from our own tent, a little
after sundown. Indeed, they ate their supper with us, while their
beautiful horses, head high, stared out into the growing darkness. One
of the express riders was a slight, dark youth whom I had never seen
before. In the other I was surprised to recognize Old Hickory Pine. He
told me his people had "squatted" not far from Sacramento, but that he
had come up into the hills on summons by Danny Randall. The fact
impressed me anew as to Randall's wide knowledge, for the Pines had not
been long in the country.
The trip went through without incident. Johnny returned four days later
aglow with the joy of that adventurous ride through the dark. Robbers
aside, I acknowledge I should not have liked that job. I am no horseman,
and I confess that at full speed I am always uneasy as to how a
four-hoofed animal is going successfully to plant all four of them. And
these three boys, for they were nothing else, had to gallop the thirty
miles of the road to Sacramento that lay in the mountains before dawn
caught them in the defiles.
Johnny seemed to glory in it, however. Danny Randall had arranged for a
change of horses; and the three express riders liked to dash up at full
speed to the relay station, fling themselves and their treasure bags
from one beast to the other, and be off again with the least possible
expenditure of time. The incoming animal had hardly come to a stand
before the fresh animal was off. There could have been no real occasion
for quite so much haste; but they liked to do it. The trips were made at
irregular intervals; and the riders left camp at odd times. Indeed, no
hour of the twenty-four was unlikely to be that of their start. Each boy
carried fifty pounds of gold dust distributed in four pouches. This was
a heavy weight, but it was compensated for to some extent by the fact
that they rode very light saddles. Thus every trip the enormous sum of
thirty-five thousand dollars went out in charge of the three.
The first half dozen journeys were more or less secret, so that the
express service did not become known to the general public. Then the
news inevitably leaked out. Danny Randall thereupon openly received
shipments and gave receipts at the Bella Union. It seemed to me only a
matter of time before the express messengers should be waylaid, for the
treasure they carried was worth any one's while. I spoke to Randall
about it one day.
"If Amijo or Murietta or Dick Temple were in this part of the country,
I'd agree with you," said he seriously, "but they are not, and there's
nobody in this lot of cheap desperadoes around here that has the nerve.
Those three boys have a big reputation as fighters; their horses are
good; they constantly vary their route and their times of starting; and
Johnny in especial has a foxy head on him."
"The weak point is the place they change horses," said I.
Randall looked at me quickly, as though surprised.
"Why, that's true," said he; "not a doubt of it. But I've got five armed
men there to look after just that. And another thing you must remember:
they know that Danny Randall is running this show."
Certainly, thought I, Danny at least appreciates himself; and yet, after
all, I do not think he in any way exaggerated the terror his name
inspired.