BUNCOED.
"DO you mean to say that Mr. Murphy does not own the machine, the
contract, and all the equipment?" Charley asked.
"Oh, I guess he owns the stuff out there, all right," said the agent.
"The point is, that in a year's time he has only completed ten miles
of the road, and, if you have read the contract over carefully, you
will have noticed that it calls for the completion of the road in two
years, or the contractor is liable to forfeit the machine itself.
There remains thirty miles to do within a year. And that thirty miles
is far harder to do than the ground Murphy has gone over. He has lost
thousands of dollars upon the work he has done. I hardly blame him for
trying to catch a sucker."
"But," Charley protested, "we saw the machine work. It digs over a
cubic yard of earth a minute, and, at 17½ cents a yard, that ought to
pay big money."
"It looks all right on paper," answered the agent wearily, "but
it doesn't figure out that way in fact. You have got to allow for
breakdowns, and a host of troubles you don't expect. The farther out
you get the more troubles you are going to have. I cannot tell you all
that may happen to you, for I do not know exactly, and, if I did, it
would be against the rules of the telegraph company for me to repeat
anything I have learned from messages that have come over the wire.
That is a rule an agent is honor-bound to obey. But I may, however,
give you a hint to be on your guard all the time. There are powerful
people and influences at work to stop that road-building."
"But why should anyone wish to stop it?" asked Charley, whose face
began to wear an anxious expression.
"That I do not know," answered the agent. "All I know is that you will
not be allowed to build that road in peace. How far its enemies will go
to stop it, and what their motive is, I cannot say. But, if I were you,
I'd be on the watchout for trouble right from the start."
"Cheerful news," commented Charley grimly.
"It isn't very joyful tidings, I admit," said the agent. "I would
hate to tackle the job under such circumstances. The work itself is
uncertain enough to keep any man worrying, without any trouble from
outside. Now you have all the warning I am permitted to give you, and,
if I may, I would like to ask you what are you going to do about it?"
"Do?" echoed Charley, throwing back his shoulders. "I coaxed my
companions into this deal, and it's up to me, with their help, to pull
out clear."
"Go to it," said Captain Westfield, approvingly. "We have still got
$2,000, and we'll back you up to the last cent. If we go broke, it will
not be the first time we've been that way."
"You've voiced my sentiments," agreed Walter, quickly.
"Dis nigger's sho' got to go wid you white chillens," Chris joined in.
"Don't know what you'd do widout dis nigger to look out for you-alls."
The agent observed this demonstration of loyalty with increased
interest. "If you all stick by each other like that, you will do better
than Murphy has, at any rate," he observed. "I'll help you all I can,
but I'm afraid that will not be very much, but, perhaps, I can drop
a hint now and then that will be of help to you. Well, there goes my
telegraph call. Guess it is an answer to your telegram to the bank."
In a few minutes he reappeared with the written message:
"Your message too late; check cashed a few minutes
after eight."
"BANK OF WEST PALM BEACH."
"I gossiped a little with the agent at Palm Beach," he said. "Murphy
left there on the southbound a few minutes ago. He bought a ticket
to Havana. Sorry, boys, I did my best for you, but it was too late.
Well, I hope you will have better luck than Murphy did. Drop in on me
whenever you feel like it. I have got to get some waybills ready for
the morning freight, now, so will have to get busy."
The little party thanked him for his kindness and, strolling down to
the dock, sat down to discuss the new turn of affairs.
"What a chump I am!" exclaimed Charley bitterly. "Here I've gone and
dragged you fellows into a hopeless proposition, when common sense
should have led me to investigate carefully. It was too good a bargain
not to have some string fastened to it. One can't get something for
nothing in this world."
"Maybe you were a mite hasty, lad," admitted the Captain; "but shucks,
we all make our little mistakes. Maybe we can do better than Murphy did
with that big land turtle. It appeared to me that Murphy wasn't just
the kind of a man to handle a lot of negroes, especially Saws. I could
see there was a pile of dissatisfaction in that camp, and, when there's
trouble in the forecastle, the ship is never worked right."
"Golly, I don't blame them niggers for looking sullen and working no
account when dey has to eat grub de way dat cook fixes it up. I reckon
I could fix up some dishes dat would sho' make them open their eyes."
"I believe there are several things that could be done to that machine
which would make her work a lot better," Walter remarked thoughtfully.
"I would like to work on the machine firing, if necessary, until I
learned how to run her. That's the way we will fix it. Chris can
be cook, I'll be engineer, the Captain overseer, and you, Charley,
business manager."
Charley forced a grin. "I'm afraid my ability as business manager
is at a discount now, but, if you fellows care to trust me again, I
believe I will profit from the lesson I've just learned, and, with your
help, will pull our hot chestnuts out of the fire. I believe it can be
done. The first thing now is to get back to our white elephant. Do you
suppose you can run that truck back to camp?"
"I believe so," said his chum doubtfully. "I used to run a car a little
at home, but it was a different make."
"Well, go ahead, and see about it," Charley said. "The Captain and
Chris will help you get our stuff aboard. I am going to make a round
of the stores and see whether Murphy owes all of them. It is likely we
will have to lay in supplies every week."
Charley found his surmise correct. Every merchant he met was clamorous
to collect overdue bills on Mr. Murphy's camp. It was here that
Charley's steady, if slow and interrupted, study of the law stood him
in good stead. "You can't collect from us, and there's no use you're
getting mad over it," he said coolly to each infuriated merchant. "You
took a chance on Murphy, and got stung, the same as we have, and you've
got to stand it the same as we have. If you get any of your money back
it will have to be from Murphy. If we had been notified beforehand
about your claims against Mr. Murphy, then we would have seen to it
that the bills were settled before we paid over the purchase price. We
have not benefited in the slightest by the things Mr. Murphy bought of
you, and you cannot expect us to pay his debts."
It was a frank, manly, straightforward statement, but the merchants
received it with wrath, sore over the losses they had sustained, and
treated the lad with many threats and charges of underhandedness, even
going so far as to accuse him of being in collusion with Murphy in an
attempt to defraud them. By the time the last merchant was visited
the lad was convinced that he could expect no credit or sympathy in
Jupiter. The knowledge did one good thing for him, however. It stirred
up every bit of his fighting spirit, and, when he rejoined his friends
at the truck, it was with the determination to make good on his
unfortunate venture, if it were possible for a human being to do so.
Walter looked up at him with beaming face. "I can run it all right,"
he declared, "and it's in pretty good shape, too, though it's been
frightfully misused."
"Good," said his chum cheerfully, as he climbed aboard. "Run me down to
the station first. I've got to send a telegram, and then we will go out
to camp."
"I've come back to ask some more questions," he grinned to the
friendly agent. "What's the name of a good wholesale grocery house
in Jacksonville? I want one that does not deal much with the local
merchants here."
"James K. Riley & Co. are the best I know of," said the agent promptly.
"Their prices are very low, but they demand spot cash, so retail
merchants do not trade with them much."
Charley wrote a few lines on a telegram blank and shoved it over to
him. "Will you rush that through for me?" he asked.
The agent grinned as he read the telegram:
"JAMES K. RILEY,
Jacksonville, Fla.
Please send at once your price list of staple groceries.
WEST, HAZARD, WESTFIELD & CO."
"Merchants here didn't exactly fold you to their bosoms, when they
learned that you were Murphy's successor?" he asked.
"Not so you could notice it," Charley admitted, with a smile. "One
can't blame them much for being sore, but, of course, we have got to
look out for ourselves."
"Sure," assented the agent, "you're making a wise move at that, kid.
It's a 250-mile haul from Jacksonville here, and the freights will be
high, but, even so, you'll get your stuff 20 per cent, cheaper than the
merchants here would charge you. The charge on this message will be a
quarter."
Charley paid over the twenty-five cents and hurried out to the truck,
where his companions were impatiently awaiting him. As they whirled out
on the dirt road leading to the camp he explained to them what he had
been doing.
"You did just right," approved the Captain. "There can't be more than
one captain to a ship, and I reckon you have got to be captain of this
one until she sails into port or is wrecked on the rocks. You have got
more business sense than the rest of us. I don't reckon because you
made one slip that you are going to keep on making them. We will back
you up with the last dollar we've got in the bank, won't we, lads?"
"Sure," said Walter heartily.
"Sho'," Chris agreed solemnly.
"Thanks," said Charley simply. "I'll do my best. Now, Walt, I wish you
would show me how to run this truck. I've got a hunch that I'm going
to have to use it a whole lot the next few months, and now's as good a
time as any to learn."
Fortunately the truck mechanism was very simple. And in half an hour
Charley had so far mastered the principles of the different levers that
he felt sure that he could run it if necessity demanded.
"There's one thing more to do before we reach camp," Charley said, when
his lesson was finished. "We ought to unpack our pistols and have them
handy in our pockets. I don't expect trouble, but it is just as well to
be ready for it. I guess there are some pretty tough characters in that
bunch. I noticed, big man as he is, Murphy had a couple of big pistols
strapped on him when he was in camp."
The pistols were gotten out of the pack and carefully oiled and
reloaded. They were late purchases and looked as small and harmless as
toy pistols, but their appearance was deceiving. In reality they were
automatics of the latest make, deadly accurate, and each, when loaded,
carried 11 steel-jacketed bullets, that could be discharged in as many
seconds. When slipped into a coat pocket they made only a slight bulge.
By the time they had all pocketed their weapons they came in full sight
of the camp. Charley stood up and viewed it with a puzzled frown on his
face.
"Something's gone wrong," he announced.