Standing by that big bowlder, Shea suddenly awakened from his dream. Out
of the night on the other side of the bowlder, where the dim fire of the
two natives had flickered into red embers, floated a slow, musical laugh
and a few words. The patois was totally unknown to Shea. One of those
words, however, drifted across the darkness and smote upon his brain
with jarring force. The laugh, too, was not honest; it was a silky
laugh, a laugh pregnant with sly meanings and furtive humours. The word
was "Dorales."
Shea trembled. Dorales! Why did these natives speak of Dorales in this
way?
Now it came into his mind how Tom Logan had known all about him; how
Logan had been in Zacaton City the previous night; how Logan had gotten
lost in the lava beds--even to Shea's innocence a very improbable thing.
Prospectors for limestone formations do not enter the lava beds.
Latent suspicion crystallized within Shea's brain. Tom Logan was no
other than Abel Dorales; he was certain of it, he knew it absolutely.
His eyes were opened, and he sought for no proof.
Dorales had intended to come here, thinking the place deserted. In
Zacaton City he had learned that Thady Shea was probably at Number
Sixteen. He had come with cunning intent, he had come with cunning words
and a false tongue. The offer of ten thousand dollars might or might not
be genuine; no matter!
To the terribly childlike Shea it seemed that Providence had sent that
low word and laugh through the night to his ears, to save him from
temptation. At thought of how, a few minutes ago, he had been on the
point of swallowing the gilded lure of Dorales, he shivered and wiped
sweat from his brow.
He turned about and started toward the shacks.
Beside the table where the oil lamp burned, Dorales was sitting and
writing. He filled out a previously prepared paper which would transfer
to the Empire State Chemical Company, for the sum of ten thousand
dollars, all the rights, holdings, and so forth, of Thaddeus Shea in the
property underfoot. The company in question consisted of Sandy
Mackintavers.
This paper ready for signatures and witnessing, Dorales produced a blank
check which bore the almost illegible but widely known signature of A.
Mackintavers. This Dorales filled out in the name of Thaddeus Shea, and
in the amount of ten thousand dollars. At this instant he heard a hoarse
voice whisper his name--"Dorales!"
"Well?" He glanced up sharply, taken by surprise.
Into the lighted doorway stepped Thady Shea, his cavernous eyes blazing.
For an instant Dorales was too completely astounded to move--astounded
by the realization of how he had just betrayed himself, astounded by the
fact that this gaunt fellow was no simpleton after all!
That instant of indecision was fatal. Dorales pushed back his chair and
came to his feet, one hand sliding to his coat pocket. Too late! The big
fingers of Thady Shea gripped down on his wrist, and Shea's right hand
took him by the left shoulder, and he was staring into the blazing black
eyes of the man he had thought to cheat.
"I am glad to meet you, friend Dorales!" A grim smile sat on Shea's wide
lips. "The airy tongues that syllable men's names have borne to me your
rightful cognomen."
Dorales writhed under that iron grip. His left hand drove up to Shea's
face, landed hard. From his lips broke a shout for aid.
Under the blow, Shea staggered; he knew nothing of fighting. He did
know, however, that the shout of Dorales would bring the two Mexicans,
and the knowledge fired him. He merely threw himself bodily and blindly
at Dorales and carried the latter to the floor.
Luck was kind. Dorales, trying not to fall underneath, writhed aside;
the impetus of Shea's rush, or rather fall, threw Abel Dorales headlong
against the wall and knocked him senseless.
After a moment Shea realized that Dorales was knocked out, relaxed his
iron grip, and rose. His first thought was to turn out the lamp. Then,
taking from the corner the axe helve, Shea passed outside the shack. He
discerned two figures running toward him in the starlight, and he strode
at them.
The two natives were not at all sure of what had been going on. They
called to Shea, who made no answer but came steadily at them. Hesitant,
they awaited his approach, again addressing him in English. For
response, Shea heaved up the axe helve and struck the nearer man
senseless.
Here was answer enough. The second man whipped up a ready revolver and
fired hastily; too hastily, for the bullet only whipped Shea's lean
cheek and passed over the hogback. An instant later the axe helve broke
the man's arm.
"Be quiet!" commanded Shea; then considered that the groaning wretch
could not well obey such an order with a smashed arm. "Go down and climb
into your automobile. Wait there."
"Si, senor." The native turned and went into the night, groaning.
Stooping, Shea picked up the body of the second man, the one whom he had
stricken senseless. He heaved it up over his shoulder, and returned to
the shack. There he lighted a match, got the lamp burning again, and
clumsily tied Abel Dorales hand and foot. He rightly considered that the
fight was taken out of the two natives.
Dorales evinced no symptoms of recovery. Shea threw some water over the
face of his native prisoner, and presently the man sat up and stared
around. At sight of Shea's figure, he shrank back and crossed himself.
"I'll not hurt you," said Shea. "Where's Mackintavers?"
"At the ranch, senor," whimpered the wide-eyed native.
"Is he coming here?"
"No, senor, not until Senor Dorales sends for him."
"That will not be for some time." And Shea smiled. "Do you know where
Mrs. Crump is?"
"I heard Senor Dorales say that she would not get there until to-morrow
night, senor."
This explained to Shea why Dorales had planned on cleaning up the sale
so hastily. It also set his mind at rest about Mackintavers, whose
arrival he had feared.
There was no doubt whatever that Dorales had figured things closely and
accurately. Therefore, Mrs. Crump would return upon the following
afternoon or evening, and in the meantime no other attempt would be made
upon the property.
With this thought in mind, Thady Shea set about making his departure,
for he intended to be gone when Mrs. Crump arrived home. If Dorales were
safely out of the way for a day or two, there would be no danger in
leaving the mine deserted; and Shea was already possessed of a scheme
for putting Dorales in cold storage.
Prompt to act upon the swift impulse in his mind, Shea turned over the
cleverly drawn paper which Dorales had been studying, and upon its back
wrote a note to Mrs. Crump. The check caught his eye, and he pulled it
toward him; smiling sardonically, he read and reread that magic slip of
paper which stood for ten thousand dollars.
He picked up the check and held it for a moment over the oil lamp--then
he quickly jerked it back.
"No, I'll leave it," he muttered. "She'll know I'm honest, perchance! It
will be a tongue most eloquent."
That sardonic smile still curving his wide lips, he turned over the
check and carefully indorsed it; across the back of the paper he wrote
the same name which he had signed to the note. The whimsical thought
came to him that, if he presented this paper at a bank, he would get ten
thousand dollars for Mrs. Crump; he had no intention of so presenting
it, however--had he not refused the proffered negotiations? He indorsed
that check merely as a mute message to Mrs. Crump. It quite escaped him
that, by so indorsing it, he had made it good.
He picked up the epistle which he had written, and read it over,
frowning:
MADAM: If you do not already know of my unhappy share in your
misfortunes, you may be easily apprised of it from other lips.
Farewell! I take my leave to seek an errant soul upon the roads,
and I shall not return until some testing has surfeited my most
uneasy spirit.
---- Thaddeus R. Shea.
He folded up the note, and nodded to himself.
"'Tis not so clear as crystal, yet 'twill serve," he murmured.
Whether Mrs. Crump would fully understand the reasons for his departure
was immaterial, since Shea himself did not fully understand them; at
least, he had not figured them into concrete bases. His idea of doing
penance, of seeking either ultimate strength or ultimate failure again
in the world, was vague. His secondary motive, that of not drawing his
benefactress into his own danger from the Mackintavers forces, was
equally vague, since Mrs. Crump was far more imperilled and far better
equipped to face such peril than he.
However, it is these vague impulses which often lead men upon the trail
of fate, and thus it proved with Thady Shea.
He left the note upon the table, and with it the indorsed check and
legally phrased paper, knowing that these would in some measure make
matters clear to Mrs. Crump. Then he procured that lady's whiskey and
poured a generous portion into a tin cup. This time, he deliberately
smelled of it, and smiled grimly. Mrs. Crump kept on hand a vial of
laudanum for the sake of recurrent toothache, and from this vial he
dropped a little of the drug into the whiskey.
"Friend Dorales will sleep to-night, methinks," he said to the staring
native captive. "Lift up his head!"
The native picked up the head and shoulders of the still senseless
Dorales. Forcing open the thin, strong lips, Shea poured his mixture
into the man's mouth. Dorales choked, but swallowed it and began to
revive.
Shea packed his few belongings, regretfully left the historic axe helve
for Mrs. Crump, then motioned his prisoner to help him lift Dorales. The
latter was now swearing luridly but feebly. Together they carried him
out into the darkness.
Ten minutes later Dorales was snoring in the tonneau of Mackintavers'
flivver, beside the injured native. By the light of the lamps, the
uninjured captive was working under the directions of Shea, who had
realized that upon reaching home Mrs. Crump would be unable to use her
own car without tires.
So Shea stripped the enemy car, left the tires beside the dust-white
flivver, and then climbed into his captured vehicle. Having disarmed his
conquered foemen, he had nothing to fear from them, and headed his bumpy
equipage toward No Agua. When the canon road warned him that he was
close to that lone hovel of desolation, he stopped the car and took from
his pocket Mrs. Crump's flask into which he had emptied the laudanum
vial. He turned to the two natives, one of whom was groaning and
shivering, the other merely shivering.
"Friends," he said, sonorously, "drink--or take the consequences."
Knowing from the example of Abel Dorales that the flask contained
nothing worse than sleep, mingled with liquor, the two natives drank the
contents with avidity. Shea tossed away the empty flask, envy in his
eye; he wanted a drink very badly--but he did not want one badly enough
to take it.
Passing the No Agua store with a rattle and clatter, Shea considered
swiftly. If he went south to Silver City he might meet Mrs. Crump, and
he had no desire to meet her at present. If he went west, he would get
into Arizona. All he knew about Arizona was founded upon the drama of
that name; the prospect of being scalped by Apaches or otherwise
mutilated did not invite his soul particularly.
So he turned east to Zacaton City, confident that he could pass through
that nest of enemies before dawn, and with a vague scheme already in his
mind. All he wanted was to get clear away, and he mentally blessed that
vial of laudanum.
It was shortly before dawn when the snoring mechanic in Aimes' garage
was awakened by a tall, gaunt stranger.
"Friend," said Shea to the yawning mechanic, "in this my vehicle behold
three villains, scoundrels of the deepest dye! But yesternight they
tried to jump my claim, wherefore I laid them by the heels, and charge
you, upon your honest visage, guard them well until the sheriff shall
appear to claim them."
After some repetition the astonished mechanic gathered that this gaunt
stranger had brought in three claim jumpers to be held until the sheriff
arrived. Not having participated in the events of Sunday morning, the
mechanic was blissfully ignorant of Shea's identity, and Thady had no
intention of disclosing it. Despite protest, Shea left the crippled
flivver in the garage, the three snoring occupants being obviously safe
for another twenty-four hours. Having been carefully dirtied and
disguised by Dorales himself, the flivver was not recognized immediately
as that of Sandy Mackintavers.
These things successfully accomplished, Thady Shea faded into the gray
dawn. For lack of better direction, he took the rough and rugged road
that led off to Datil and the transcontinental highway into Magdalena.
He had no illusions about arrest not being probable in _this_ case, and
he desired to avoid arrest.
Zacaton City was ere long in a roar of half-wrathful enjoyment. The
three "claim jumpers," who slept like the dead and refused to be
awakened, were soon known as Abel Dorales, tied hand and foot, and two
natives from the Mackintavers ranch, one having a broken arm. The garage
mechanic's description of Thady Shea was accurate and recognizable.
Details were lacking and could not be obtained until the drugged men
awakened--but details were largely unnecessary.
Ben Aimes did not telephone to Mackintavers at the ranch; at the time,
this seemed a rather superfluous detail. The news bearer would have a
thankless and possibly dangerous job, so Ben Aimes left Mackintavers
alone, and left Dorales to tell the sorry tale in person. However, Aimes
swore out warrants charging battery and other things, and sent
automobiles forth to bring in Thady Shea.
Him they did not find; but they went as far as Magdalena, spreading the
story as they progressed. Within three days, this immediate section of
the state was in a roar of laughter; Dorales had a reputation as "the
worst man to monkey with" in existence. Added to the joke was the story
of Thady Shea and the axe helve, which travelled fast and far. Neither
story reached the Mackintavers ranch fast enough, however.
On the afternoon following Thady Shea's desertion of Number Sixteen,
Mrs. Crump arrived there in a hired car from Silver City. She came
alone; Gilbert and Lewis were in jail awaiting bail, and she came only
to make sure that Number Sixteen had escaped the ravishers.
By this time Mrs. Crump knew all about what had happened to Thady Shea
in Zacaton City, and how the disaster had come upon her, but she had
made no comments. At the shack, she found the papers which Thady Shea
had left. She read his note, and muttered something about "damned fool."
Then she took the check which he had indorsed, returned to her hired
car, and before midnight was back in Silver City.
At nine the next morning the Silver City bank telephoned Sandy
Mackintavers over long distance regarding a check for ten thousand
dollars issued to one Thady Shea, and properly indorsed, which had been
presented for payment by Mrs. Crump. Promptly and delightedly
Mackintavers gave it his O. K. Quite naturally, he considered that Abel
Dorales had carried his mission to success, and that Number Sixteen now
belonged to the Empire State Chemical Company.
But that evening, when Dorales arrived with new tires on the flivver,
Mackintavers learned what had really taken place. Then he telephoned to
Silver City in all haste, only to find that he was out ten thousand big
round dollars. He had gambled, and he had lost his stake.
Dorales spent a most unpleasant evening. Despite everything, even the
monetary loss, which rankled to the very bottom of his soul,
Mackintavers had a deep grain of humour. This was the first time he had
ever known Abel Dorales to be put absolutely down and out; he gave his
humour full vent until Dorales, who had no humour whatever, writhed
under the lash.
"It's your loss most of all," growled Dorales, white lipped and
venomous.
"Aiblins, yes." Mackintavers fell grave. "We'll leave Mrs. Crump alone
for the present; never fear, I'll get that money back, with interest!
I've a scheme in the back of my head that will work on her a bit later.
Are ye going to hide out till the laughing's done with?"
"Hide--hell!" snarled Dorales, viciously. "The first man that laughs to
my face, except you, gets something to remember. And," he added, slowly,
"I'm not so sure about excepting you, Sandy."
"There, there, cannot ye take a joke?" returned Mackintavers, hastily.
"I've suffered the most, but leave Mrs. Crump be for the present. I want
to get the matter o' those stone idols settled, and under cover o' the
noise it will make when I become a scientist, then we'll take over this
strontianite mine.
"I want ye to go up to Santa Fe, and get a big sack o' silver dollars.
I've me eye on two or three o' them Cochiti redskins and I think ye can
bribe 'em. If----"
"What about this man Shea?" snapped Dorales. "I'm going to get him if it
takes me ten years! I'm going to write my name in his hide with a
knife!"
"Ye shall; he'll be here when ye get back from Santa Fe," soothed
Mackintavers. "He can't hide out long, Abel. I'll have him held for ye."
"You'd better," said the other, sourly. "I don't like wasting time on
these idols, anyway. I never knew any good to come of bothering the
Indian gods, Sandy."
Mackintavers only laughed, although not without a frown to follow the
laugh. He was wondering if the presence of those gods in his house had
brought him the loss of ten thousand dollars. He was the last man on
earth to let superstition alter his plans; yet he was Scottish, and he
could not help wondering--just a little.