ADVENTURE AT HEART'S DESIRE
_The Strange Story of the King of Gee-Whiz, and his Unusual Experience
in Foreign Parts_
In the absence of McKinney with the sheriff's posse, Curly became, by
virtue of seniority, acting foreman on the Carrizoso ranch. Grieving
over the edict which held him home from sheriffing, and disconsolate
now that Ellsworth and Constance had departed, he sought an outlet for
his feelings. "I'll show folks what a real cow foreman is like," he
asserted, and forthwith began plans which, in his opinion, had been too
long deferred by the more conservative McKinney.
The wagons of the Carrizoso cow outfit came into town one morning, with
a requisition for all the loose .44-caliber ammunition that could be
bought, begged, or commandeered under the plea of urgent necessity.
Whiteman burrowed through his stock from top to bottom, but still the
new foreman growled at the insufficiency.
"There's more'n five thousand sheep in that bunch that has just crossed
the Nogales," said he, "and we've got to kill 'em, every one. Do you
suppose my men is goin' to take to clubs, like Digger Injuns?"
Whiteman could only shrug. There had always been ammunition in Heart's
Desire sufficient for all benevolent and social purposes. No one had
suspected sheep. The Carrizoso plateau had been sacred ground, and it
was unsupposable that it could ever be desecrated by the trampling
hoofs and scissor noses of these woolly abominations. Grumbling, Curly
rode away with his wagons, surrounded by a group of be-Winchestered cow
punchers, not unlike that which had accompanied Stillson out at the
other end of the town.
It was two days before they returned. When they did so, two of the men
were not in their saddles, but at the bottom of a wagon. Beside them,
bucked up and bound, lay a strange and long-haired figure, at which the
new foreman occasionally looked back with a gaze of mingled curiosity
and respect.
It appeared that Carrizoso cow honor had been maintained. The five
thousand sheep had been rounded up in a box cañon, and scrupulously
killed to the last item, while two herders went flying westward in
fright such as might have warranted euchre upon their stiffly extended
coat-tails.
Willie, the half-wit, one of the sheep outfit, had readily taken the
oath of allegiance; beyond that, however, there had been a hitch in the
proceedings. The man causing this hitch--the long-haired figure at the
bottom of the wagon--had been presumptuous enough to make a stand
against the lords of the earth! The men of Heart's Desire, confident
that the new foreman understood his business, asked few questions as
they gathered about the wagon and gazed at the silent captive.
He was a singular-looking man, tall, lean, sinewy, with a high, thin
nose and a square chin which seemed not in keeping with his calling.
His left nostril was indented by a scar which ran across his cheek, and
one ear was notched well-nigh as deeply as that of a calf at a spring
branding.
"This feller," said Uncle Jim Brothers, "looks like he come from
Arkansaw."
"Maybe _so_," answered Curly. "Anyhow, he shot up two of the boys and
killed a horse for us before we got at him. We was out of
ammunition--I told you we didn't have enough. After we killed the
woollies, and run off them two herders, we rid up the cañon. There was
him, a-settin' in the door of his ole Kentucky home, with a Winchester
that'd go off--which it stands to reason couldn't have happened if he
was a real sheepherder. I can't figure that out." Curly scratched his
head dubiously, and looked again at his prisoner.
"He ain't saying a vort alretty," said Whiteman.
"He's happy enough without. He was livin' like a lord there, in his
shack--four hundred paper-back novels, a keg of whiskey and a tin cup,
and some kind of 'hop' that we brung along, and which was the only
thing he hollered over."
The prisoner sat up in the wagon. "If you'd be so good as to give me
the packet you've in your pocket," said he to Curly, "I'd be awfully
obliged to you, old fellow, I would indeed." Curly drew a paper
package from his pocket and passed it to the speaker, who opened it
with eager fingers.
"Thanks, my good man," he remarked, "thank you awfully." They led him
into the deserted Lone Star for further deliberations.
"That's the snuff he's been takin'," Curly explained aside. "I know.
It's 'hop.' Sheep, 'hop,' and whiskey! With that for a life and them
for a steady diet, I don't believe our friend here'd last more'n about
thirty years more." He turned to the captive, who by this time was
leaning back against the wall in his chair, the central figure of
present affairs, but apparently quite unconcerned.
"How you feelin' now?" Curly asked.
"Much better," replied the prisoner. "Thank you awfully. I was
beginning to feel deucedly seedy, you know."
"I'd like to know," inquired Curly, bluntly, "what in merry-hell you're
doing down in here, anyhow. Where'd you come from? Where've you been?"
A half-humorous smile came to the face of the captive. "You seem not
to know a Sandhurst man, gentlemen, when you see one," said he.
"I said he was from Arkansaw," remarked Uncle Jim.
"No foolin' now, young feller," said Curly, frowning. "You may have
more trouble than you're lookin' for. What's your name?"
"I really forget my first name," replied the prisoner, blandly, but not
discourteously. "Of late I have been customarily addressed as the King
of Gee-Whiz."
"Well, King," suggested the acting foreman, grimly, "you'd better turn
loose and tell us your story, about as soon as you know how."
"Very gladly," responded the other, "very gladly. You seem a good
sort, and you fought fair. I'll tell you the absolute truth.
"I came from England originally, and not from Arkansaw, as my friend
supposes, although I don't know where Arkansaw is, I'm sure. I was
long in the British Army, or Navy, I cawn't remember which. I'm quite
sure it was one or the other, possibly both."
"I wouldn't kid too much, friend," said Curly, warningly.
"I beg pardon?"
"Drop the foolishness!"
"You misunderstand me, I'm sure," said the King of Gee-Whiz. "At that
time it was quite customary, indeed very fashionable, for young
gentlemen to belong both to the Army and the Navy. Now, I remember
with perfect distinctness that I shipped before the mast on her
Majesty's submarine, the _Equator_."
Uncle Jim drew a long breath. "A submarine ain't _got_ no mast," said
he. "It crawls, on the bottom of the ocean."
"Don't mind him, friend," interrupted Curly. "He come from the
short-grass country of Kansas, and he don't know a submarine from a
muley cow. Go on, King."
"As I was saying," continued the latter, somewhat annoyed, "I shipped
before the mast on her Majesty's submarine, the _Equator_, Captain
Harry Oglethorpe commanding,--a great friend of mine, and a very brave
and clever fellow. I knew him well before I got so deucedly down on my
luck. But what was I saying?"
"About submarines--"
"Ah, yes, I remember; we left Portsmouth Harbor the 12th of August,
1357. It seemed a gruelling hard thing to us to sail just on the
opening of the shooting season, but the wuzzies were troubling a bit.
"One day, as Sir Harry and I were sitting on deck before the mast,
having a cigarette--"
"At the bottom of the sea--on deck!" gasped Uncle Jim Brothers.
"Pray don't interrupt me, or I'll never get on," chided the King of
Gee-Whiz, politely. "We were smoking, as I said, awfter dinner. I was
remarking to Sir Harry that we were having a very good voyage over,
when, as he turned to reply, an orderly rode up to us and saluted."
"Rode--rode--rode up!" murmured Curly. "How could he?"
"Let him alone," said Uncle Jim. "Didn't he say he couldn't remember
whether he was in the Army or the Navy? The horse goes."
"The orderly saluted," resumed the King of Gee-Whiz, "and said he, 'I
beg pardon, but the officer of the day presents his compliments, and
begs to report that the ship's a-fire, and upon the point of exploding.'
"Sir Harry looked at his watch. 'Thanks,' said he. 'Present my
compliments to the officer of the day, and ask how long it will be
before the explosion occurs.'
"'I beg pardon,' replied the orderly, 'but the officer of the day
presents his compliments, and begs to say that the explosion will occur
in about three minutes.'
"'Very well,' said Sir Harry, 'you may go.'--'That will give us time to
finish our cigarettes,' said he to me. The orderly saluted and rode
away. We never saw him again.
"The officer of the day was a very accurate man, very accurate indeed.
In three minutes to the dot the explosion did occur. We never knew
what caused it. No doubt the Admiralty Board determined that, but we
were not present at the session.
"The explosion was most violent, and no doubt the submarine was quite
destroyed by it. Sir Harry and I were blown to an extraordinary
distance from the spot. I remember saying to him, as we reached the
surface and started upward, that it seemed quite too bad that we'd not
had time to get together our personal kit for the journey.
"It's no use my mentioning how long we travelled thus, for I'm not in
the least clear about it myself. All I can say is that in course of
time we descended, and that we found ourselves on solid ground, on the
island of Gee-Whiz. That, you will understand, was an uncharted and
hitherto undiscovered land, lying near the 400th parallel west of
London and somewhere below Sumatra--several weeks' march from Calcutta,
I should say. We'd never seen the place nor heard of it, but were
jolly well pleased to alight upon it, under the circumstances. Of the
rest of the ship's company we never heard.
"It was a baddish fix, I must say, for to be marooned on a desert
island is serious; and it's still more serious to lose one's ship in
the British Army. Presently, however, we composed ourselves. 'I say,'
said Sir Harry, 'this is a great go, isn't it? Here I am with no
luggage whatever except one bar of soap!'
"Presently I saw approaching a band of natives, headed by a large
person, who was apparently their leader or king."
"Then that was the real King of Gee-Whiz?" asked Doc Tomlinson.
"At that time, but not permanently, as I shall presently show you."
"I explained the situation to the King, who turned out to be a very
good sort. 'God bless my soul!' said he. 'My dear sir, there's not
the slightest occasion for uneasiness, there really isn't, indeed.'
"You may fawncy the situation! As it was, Sir Harry and I were obliged
to make the best of it. We concluded to remain and to take possession
of the region in the name of her Britennic Majesty."
"That's the most natural part of your story!" affirmed Uncle Jim, with
conviction.
"Thank you. But I must tell you of the complications which now arose.
You will see that all these people were sun-worshippers, or something
of the sort, and they'd a beastly unpleasant habit, you know, of
offering up a sacrifice now and again to appease the spirits, or the
like. We learned they'd a valley of gold hidden away somewhere back in
the island, and from this the King got all his gold, though even under
these circumstances not so much as he wanted at all times. He'd the
trouble of most royal families.
"The ruler of this golden valley was some sort of a princess, and she
was downright niggardly with her money, as some of these heiresses are,
you know. She'd promise the King to bring him an apronful of gold if
he'd give her a sacrifice to offer up, but he had no way of providing
an offering. No one had come for years in the line of a sacrifice,
excepting ourselves. You can imagine the awkwardness this created.
The King wanted to sacrifice us, one or both, directly. The princess,
who by the by was a regular ripper in her way, was quite gone on Sir
Harry, and he on her as well. At this point my own personal fortunes
were much involved, as you may understand.
"Sir Harry explained that while he wished to be quite the gentleman
about it, and accord me every courtesy, he'd be obliged if I'd be the
sacrifice, and leave him to represent her Majesty in the new territory.
We talked it over a bit, but came to no conclusion about the matter.
It was at this time that one of the most remarkable portions of our
experience occurred.
"One morning Sir Harry and I were standing in front of our residence,
in our part of the island, talking over matters. Sir Harry was taking
a bawth in a wash-hand basin--"
"What's that?" asked Uncle Jim.
"I reckon he means a wash-pan," explained Billy Hudgens.
"At least, Sir Harry was making a deuce of a row with the soap, and
he'd the wash-hand basin quite full of bubbles. Just then the King of
Gee-Whiz came by, and chawnced to notice the bubbles. You should have
seen his expression!
"You must remember he'd never seen a bit of soap in all his life; and
no one who has been without it--like the King and myself--can tell what
that means. He was deucedly infatuated with the bubbles. In short, he
valued them at once far more than all the gold in the valley; and he
wound up by telling us flat, that so long as we could make bubbles for
him, there would be no sacrifice. He commanded us to appear before him
every day and make these bubbles--Sir Harry showed him how to do it
with his pipe--every morning and awfternoon.
"Awfter he'd gone, Sir Harry and I looked at each other. 'It's death
or bubbles,' said he to me. I pointed out to him that it was either
death or no bawth. He was much shocked. Evidently the thing could not
go on, for our soap was already very near exhausted. Sir Harry was a
sad dog. Said he to me, 'While there is soap there is life,' meaning
to say, you see, that while there was life there was hope. Ha, ha!"
"Leave that out," admonished Curly. "Go on."
"About now there went ashore on the island the private yacht of a
gentleman whom we found to be Sir Isaac Morgenstern. He was a retired
soap-maker, of wealth and station, and was on a voyage to Samoa with
his daughter, his household servants, and the like. He'd with him, as
chaplain, a missionary, William Cook, a person of very fat habit of
body.
"When the boat went ashore, Sir Isaac, his daughter, Lady Sophie, her
maid, a Miss Eckerstrom, Mr. Cook, and one or two others were saved,
together with certain of their effects--an auto car or so, a piano, a
harp, some books, pictures, and a number of other items which made our
life much pleasanter. We all settled down together in a bit of colony,
and we got on well enough.
"The King by this time was becoming most unpleasant again about his
sacrifice. Sir Harry was a sad dog. 'Sacrifice Morgenstern,'
suggested he, 'he's used to sacrifice.' You see, in the retail
business--"
"Never mind dot," said Whiteman. "Tell vot happenet!"
"A great many things happened. For one thing, the death of Sir Isaac."
"How come that?" asked Billy Hudgens.
"One day Sir Harry met Sir Isaac in the woods, and they'd a bit of
talk. Without thinking much about it, Sir Harry explained that he was
called on to blow soap bubbles for the King, and that he was in great
need of soap, which at that time was worth far more than gold."
"Unt Morgenstern a retiret soap-mager" exclaimed Whiteman,
involuntarily.
"Now that was shore hard luck for _him_," added Uncle Jim.
"You may quite believe so," said the teller of the story, gently. "And
the saddest part of it, he'd nearly solved our problem before he left
us. At once Sir Harry began talking of soap, Sir Isaac began wondering
how he could make soap. Ere long he thought of Mr. Cook, the
missionary. 'Soap making is simple,' said he, 'if one has fat and a
bit of alkali.' The water there was most alkaline, I may add. 'Now
there is Mr. Cook?'
"'You cawn't have the missionary,' interrupted Sir Harry, 'until after
he has married me and the princess. Then I don't mind.'
"I've every reason to believe that Mr. Cook was made over into soap.
But for once Sir Isaac was wrong. He oversold the market, and that was
his mistake. As soon as the King of Gee-Whiz found that there was
abundance of soap he lost his fawncy for bubbles. The shock of this
lost opportunity prostrated Sir Isaac, and he presently passed away.
We mourned him for a time, but presently other events occurred which
deadened the loss.
"You will understand that the King of Gee-Whiz was a deucedly good
sort. He'd take a nip now and again, of course. The only thing he had
to drink was palm wine, which he got by chopping a notch in a tree and
catching the juice in a cup."
"That sounds like wood alcohol," said Billy Hudgens, in a professional
tone of voice. "It ain't safe."
"Quite right. It wasn't safe. The palm wine itself caused the King to
cut a pretty caper now and then; but awfter his mistake, he was far
worse--far, far worse. He never got over that, never."
"What happened to him?"
"A most extraordinary thing. I never knew of anything like it in all
the world.
"You see, there were two trees which grew close together near the royal
palace. One of these was his Majesty's private drinking tree. The
other, as it chawnced, was a rubber tree."
Curly deliberately removed his hat and placed it on his knee, wiping,
as he did so, a brow dotted thick with moisture. No one broke the
silence.
"You will easily understand," resumed the speaker, "that when the King
of Gee-Whiz had chopped into the rubber tree with his little gold axe,
drinking awfterwards a cupful of pure caoutchouc, it did not take him
long to repent of his inadvertence. The results were what I may call
most extraordinary. I should judge the rubber juice to have been of
very high proof indeed.
"To be brief, I give you my word of honor, the King was turned into an
absolutely elastic person on the spot! When he stamped his foot he
bounded into the air. 'He's a regular bounder, anyway,' said Sir
Harry, who would always have his joke. 'And,' said he to me, as I
remember distinctly, 'if his conscience becomes elastic, we're gone,
the same as Cook and Morgenstern.' Sir Harry was a great wit.
"Now, the more furious the King became, the more helpless he became as
well. He simply bounced up and down and around and about. Reigning
monarch, too--lack of dignity--all that sort of thing--must have been
most annoying to him. We could do nothing to calm him. In all my
travels, I have never seen such a state of affairs; I haven't, really."
"Nor me neither," said Billy Hudgens, sighing, "and I've kept bar from
Butte to El Paso."
"Then what happened?" demanded Curly.
"Everything that could happen," said the other, bitterly. "Lady Sophie
and her maid, Sir Harry and the princess--the entire household suite of
the King of Gee-Whiz--were mad enough to taste also of the juice of
this rubber tree. It had the same effect upon them! I say to you,
positively and truthfully, that then and there the island of Gee-Whiz
was inhabited by the maddest population ever known in any possession of
her Britannic Majesty."
"Reckon they was a pretty lively bunch to hold," suggested Curly; "but
what happened next?"
"I am not quite clear as to all that transpired awfter that. I know
that I was the only sane man left on the island."
"Then," remarked Curly, with conviction, taking a huge chew off his
plug, "then that must shore have been one hell of a island!"
But the narrator went on unmoved: "I reproved the others, and they
resented it. There was a great battle with the natives one day, of
which I remember but little. I seem to have been left insensible on
the field. When I recovered, I saw dawncing off across the sea the
figures of all these different persons except Sir Harry--who, of
course, was with me in the battle. Sir Harry was still with me, quite
sober at lawst, and quite dead, I do not know from what cause. I was
left alone.
"It was thus, gentlemen, that I acquired, by right, as I think, my
title which I assumed--awfter acting for a time as Viceroy for her
Britannic Majesty--as the King of Gee-Whiz. For a while I lived there
alone. Awfterwards, in some way, which I do not quite call to mind at
present, I appear to have been discovered. It was shortly awfter that
I received my decoration--I beg your pardon." He flushed a dull red.
"It was nothing, of course," said he. "As to saving Sir Harry, it was
only what any other fellow would have done in the Army or the Navy--I
don't remember which.
"So, gentlemen, I've told you my story as a gentleman should. I've
been deucedly down on my luck ever since then, and I cawn't tell you,
really I cawn't, how I happened to be here and in this business as you
found me. There's many a younger son, in the Army or the Navy, who
knocks about and gets a bit to the bad. I hope you'll not lay it up
against me, I do indeed!" His head dropped forward on his chest. "I
was stone broke," he whispered, "and I'd not a friend on earth."
"And so you drifted here," said Curly. "Well, it's about the right
place. Heart's Desire's wide open."
"It wasn't so bad," resumed the stranger, wearily, passing his hand
across his forehead; "it wasn't so bad down here for a time. I didn't
mind it, being alone, that sort of thing, for you see I was alone on
the island for so long. But the trouble was that I was followed all
the time--have been for more than a year now--by that cursed King--that
damned fiend that I thought I'd left long ago! I'd go out into the
sunshine, and there he'd be, walking, and bounding, and jumping along,
anyway I'd look! He'd follow me like a--look! look! there he is now.
See!"
He raised a trembling finger and pointed to a spot in front of the open
door. A black shadow was cast upon the floor by the strong sunlight
which shone upon the figure of a leaning spectator.
"Look!" cried the King of Gee-Whiz. "He's there! He's there!" He
slipped and sank to the floor, rolling over into an utter
insensibility. Curly put on his hat and stood looking down at him.
"Sand, sunshine, and sheep herdin'," said he, "will do up any man in
time. I'd 'a' made a good cow puncher out of this fellow, too, if I'd
got him in time. By Golly! I'll do it anyhow. I'll have Mac get him
a horse and saddle and put him to work. Any feller that kin shoot and
lie as good as him has got the makin' of a good cow puncher in him."
They turned over the King of Gee-Whiz gently, that he might rest more
easily, where he lay. His coat and waistcoat fell open. Underneath
them, upon the left side of his chest, appeared a small, dull-colored
cross of metal.
"For Valor"; Curly read the inscription with difficulty. "I knowed it;
I knowed he'd been a cow puncher sometime, and just went wrong."
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Uncle Jim Brothers, "that's the Victoria
Cross! This here's a V. C. man!"
"I don't know that brand. It ain't registered for this range," said
Curly.
"Well," said Billy Hudgens, philosophically gazing at the sleeper, "I
reckon 'D. T.' would be easier to understand, all things considered."
"If he ever comes to," said Curly, as he cast away through the open
door the contents of the pockets of the King of Gee-Whiz, "we'll try to
get him through the D. T. stage as well as the V. C., whatever that is,
and I reckon he's good for a job on the Carrizoso range. This country
can't afford to be too damned particular about a feller's past."