QUICK JUSTICE IN THE WEST
Jack Jellup, marshal and "bad man," was never more surprised in his
life. But Jack was no fool, and something in Ned Napier's eyes made
the westerner conclude instantly that he had unexpectedly and
unquestionably "barked up the wrong tree." For a few moments the
marshal and the young aeronaut stood facing each other and then
Jellup sneered:
"Do you reckon you'd better run this town?"
"No, nor you," quietly answered Ned, "and if that's the way you are
going to do it you can settle with me right now. I'm going to stand
on my rights."
He was conscious that Russell had hurried back and was behind him.
Another second and there was a sharp click. Both Jellup and Ned
turned to see the nervy young reporter with the torn suit case open
on the ground at his feet. A snap shot camera was in his hand. His
face was white, but there was a trace of his usual smile on it. Ned
wanted to laugh too, but the situation was too serious.
"I've got you both," said Bob, a little nervously, "and if it's a
good one I've got a dandy--'shooting up the town or the bad man
covered'--"
Had it not been for Ned's lightning-like action these might have
been Bob's last words. Jellup's pistol had flashed once more, but
as it dew into position Ned's own weapon rose with it under Jellup's
right hand and the marshal's shot passed over Bob's head. Before
Jellup and Ned could recover themselves Bob's camera was on the
ground and the reporter had his own revolver, which he had grabbed
quickly from the suit case.
In the center of this group now stood, unarmed, Alan Hope and old
Buck. Almost at the same time a dozen men, attracted by the melee,
had also intervened and had taken charge of the three excited
combatants.
Pushing the crowd right and left appeared the stalwart form of Mayor
Curt Bradley, weaponless, but with the stem face of one who gives
orders that cannot be ignored.
"Put 'em up, every one of you," he exclaimed; "do ye hear? Put 'em
up."
"Ye'r both under arrest," shouted Jellup to Ned and Bob.
There was a quick explanation and then Mayor Bradley, still very
stem of face, ordered everybody across the street to his office
above the drug store. Men seemed to spring out of the ground, and
the room was instantly packed to suffocation. Marshal Jellup made a
formal charge against the two boys of "resisting and interfering
with an officer" and then each told his story. The decision was
immediate. Mayor Bradley ordered that both boys be released and the
court be instantly cleared.
Jellup made his way noisily toward the door, his face white with
rage. Apparently a number present were his friends and cronies, for
the looks of sympathy that he got turned into open murmurs of
dissent.
Mayor Bradley was on his feet at once.
"What's the matter?" he began incisively. "Is there some one here
who wants to appeal from my decision?"
The hubbub subsided but there wag no response.
"The time to make any complaint about my decision is right now and
to me," went on the tall Bradley, looking over those in the room.
But no one apparently cared to take up Jellup's cause. When the
spectators had gone the Mayor, who had sternly watched the slow exit
of the last loiterer, turned to the boys.
"I thank you, Mr. Bradley," exclaimed Ned earnestly.
"And I want to thank both of you," quickly added Bob Russell, taking
the hand of each. "I'm the cause of this and I'm sorry. I guess
you saved my life twice," he added, wringing Ned's hand. "If it
hadn't been for you the Comet certainly would never have heard from
me again. I guess that, puts all my obligation up to you."
"No," said Ned, "I can't let you say that. You have your own duty
just as I have mine. We'll go over to the car and wait for the two
o'clock Limited. Then you are at liberty to go and write your story
and do its you like."
"He don't have to leave," interrupted the Mayor; "this is a free
town and it's going to be an orderly one."
"And I'm not going to," broke in Bob. "You've got yourself in a
muss over me and some of these soreheads may try to make you more
trouble. If you'll let me, I'll stay to the end and if it comes to
a mix-up I'm going to be right there with you."
Mayor Bradley smiled and old Buck slapped the reporter on the back.
"But how about the story you say you are going to write about us,"
asked Alan.
"There wouldn't have been any story if it hadn't been for Mr.
Napier," replied Bob. "And there isn't going to be one until he
tells me to write it. It's up to him."
Ned was looking out of the window at the curious loungers standing
in the street. He was thinking of the work yet to be done and of
all the difficulties that the discomfited marshal might put in his
way. It wasn't a "picnic proposition." He didn't fear for himself,
but the thought of his expensive and delicate outfit and of how
easily it might be irreparably injured was not reassuring.
"Russell," he said finally, "I think we need you. If you care to
stay with us we'll be glad to have you. It isn't because I don't
want to be bluffed by Jellup, but because you are game. If you'll
go with Buck and Elmer, I'll try to make it worth your while--some
time--and you shall be the historian of this expedition--when the
time comes to write its story."
Am hour later the delayed overland expedition was on its way toward
the desert. There had been a quick shopping expedition in the
stores of Clarkeville and Bob Russell, in a new hat and boots and
various other articles of clothing, most of them too large for him,
sat proudly on the driver's seat of the second wagon. Around his
waist was a new cartridge belt and holster carrying Ned's gift, a 44
revolver--"for game or rattlesnakes," as the boys expressed it, but
the weapon was not concealed when the little cavalcade traversed the
main street of the town, and if Jellup was an onlooker Ned felt sure
that the outwitted marshal would think twice before again molesting
the expedition.
"All set," laughed Bob, as the final farewells had been said, and he
held up his camera, "now for the real thing."
Ned and Alan were now alone. To tell the truth, the excitement of
the morning had been rather trying for them, but if it left them a
trifle nervous they soon forgot their apprehension in making the
last of the transfer. There was now another reason for abandoning
the car. With headquarters established in the corral they would be
near the balloon and its equipment, and if Jellup should permit his
ill will to develop into some overt act, they would be in a position
more easily to protect themselves. For that reason a number of
their "greaser" assistants were taken to the car before noon and the
hydrogen cask was loaded on the small wagon and carefully freighted
to the corral. Then followed the remainder of the provisions and
the personal belongings of the boys. Early in the afternoon the
Placida was closed and turned over to the railway agent.