THE MARSHAL INTERFERES
"Excuse me," said the loud-spoken man, as he made Jed a mocking bow,
"but perhaps you did not understand me. I asked for the honor of your
company in partaking of a little of the liquid refreshment which they
serve in this palatial hotel," and with his big hat he swept the floor.
"Once more, stranger, a tenderfoot by your looks, what will you have?"
The last words were sternly spoken, and there was a general movement, on
the part of those nearest Haverhill, to get out of range of the gun
which they momentarily expected him to draw.
"I understood you perfectly," replied Jed, "but I can only repeat what I
said. I don't drink."
"Why--why!" spluttered Haverhill, for he considered himself insulted
such was his peculiar code of "honor." "You've got to drink with me, or
take the consequences!"
He reached toward his revolver, which was in plain sight in his belt.
But Jed never quailed. Will, with a white face, started forward to his
brother's aid, but Gabe pulled him back.
"That'll do!" exclaimed the old miner, as he took a step in advance, and
stood beside Jed. "I'm with this lad, and what he says I'll back up."
"Oh, you will, eh?" asked Haverhill, with a sneer. "And who are you?"
"No tenderfoot, if that's what you mean. I was out in California in '49,
when you were eating bread and milk, and you can't bluff me. Don't you
draw that gun!" suddenly exclaimed the brave miner, as he saw
Haverhill's hand stealing toward the revolver.
"You dare give me orders!" exclaimed the other. "Why--why--dynamite and
rattlesnakes--I'll--I'll eat you alive!"
"You will, eh?" exclaimed Gabe, taking a step closer to the man. Every
one expected to see some "gun-play," but, for some reason, the man who
had invited Jed to drink seemed so astonished at Gabe's defiance that he
did not know what to say.
"Yes, and I'll--I'll----" spluttered the man, in his rage.
"That'll do you now!" replied Gabe quietly. "If you know what's good for
you, you'll get out of here."
"I will? What for, I'd like to know?"
"Because, Sam Small, _alias_ Ned Haverhill, _alias_ Short-card Ike, I
know who you are, and if you don't leave at once I'll report you to the
United States marshal. I know you well, but you fooled me at first. You
were Con Morton's partner when he swindled me out of the best part of my
fortune, and you can tell Con, when you see him, that I'm looking for
him. Now clear out!"
"Why--why--you dare order me----" began the gambler, as if he could not
believe what he heard.
"Yes, you'd better go, Ned," advised the bar-keeper in a low voice.
Gabe's quiet manner, and the way he spoke, convinced the hotel keeper
that the old miner had spoken the truth, and the saloon man did not want
trouble with the authorities.
"I'll not go!" cried the angry man. "I'll--I'll----"
"Hold on there!" exclaimed a new voice, and every one turned to see
Marshal Judson standing in the door. He was armed with a rifle, and,
though he did not aim it at any one, the manner in which he looked at
Haverhill, the cause of the disturbance, argued anything but peaceable
intentions toward that individual.
"Clear out of here," added the marshal, "and don't you show up in these
diggings again. I heard what Mr. Harrison said about you, and I believe
him. Get out!" and his blue eyes blazed in a convincing manner.
"I--I was--was just goin' to," answered the man, who had been so bold a
little while ago. "I'm going," and he sneaked out of the door, while
several, who a few minutes before were afraid of him, laughed openly.
"Tenderfoot, you're all right!" exclaimed a man, extending his hand to
Jed. "There aren't many who would refuse to drink with Haverhill."
Others also spoke of Jed's nervy stand, for, it was said, Haverhill was
known to be a bad man in a quarrel, and dangerous when angered.
Evidently, however, he feared the marshal.
Matters were rather quiet about the hotel the rest of the night, for the
marshal remained in that vicinity In the morning Gabe and the two boys,
having completed their outfits, set off on their horses in the direction
of Dizzy Gulch. Several old miners tried, with the best of intentions,
to dissuade Gabe from going to those diggings, saying he would only meet
with failure.
"I don't care. I'm going," he said. "I'll trust Ted Jordan."
They traveled all that day, and reached a small mining camp that
evening. It appeared to be a prosperous one, for there were several
saloons and dance halls in full operation, and, usually, this is the
surest sign of such prosperity. When the miners are digging plenty of
gold they are spending it, and every one in the place seemed to have a
good-sized bag of yellow dust, or else several nuggets in his pockets.
Though the boys had seen these evidences of the earth's richness at the
town where they first stopped, they did not lose interest in watching
the men pay for what they bought with gold dust or nuggets, instead of
money.
"That's what we'll be doing soon, eh, Will?" suggested Jed.
"I hope so, but maybe we'll be fooled when we get to Dizzy Gulch. Every
one seems to think there is no gold there."
"Don't let that worry you," replied Jed. "We'll get gold, I'm sure. Old
Gabe knows what he is about. Don't believe what those old miners say."
"I hope you're right, but it doesn't seem so," added Will, with his
usual habit of looking on the dark side of things.
The travelers found that the hotel they stopped at was somewhat better
patronized than the former one, though it had been hastily constructed.
There was the same quality of customers, however--miners and gamblers.
After supper Gabe left the two boys alone, as he wanted to go about and
make some inquiries of an old friend of his, who was somewhere about the
diggings.
As Jed and Will were passing out of the hotel through the barroom, for
there were no other egress, they were stopped by a flashily dressed man,
who, with several others, was playing cards at a table in a corner.
"Hello, sports!" he greeted the lads. "Take a hand in the game. We're
short."
"We don't gamble!" exclaimed Jed quickly. He was an outspoken lad, and
never beat about the bush.
"You don't gamble? I reckon you're afraid of losing a dollar or so,"
sneered the man.
"No, but we don't believe in it," replied Jed, good-naturedly, and
preparing to pass on.
"Hold on!" exclaimed the man. "Do you mean to insult me?"
"Not at all," answered the boy.
"But I consider you have insulted me, when you don't think I'm good
enough for you to play cards with!"
"I did not say that," was Jed's reply. "I said I didn't believe in
gambling or card playing. I don't consider that it's right."
"Then you think I'm doing wrong?"
"I don't think anything about you. I'm simply speaking for myself."
"Aw, you're a tenderfoot! A milksop! Why didn't you stay back East, tied
to your mother's apron string? Does she know you're out? Give her my
regards!"
That was too much for Jed. That any one should speak disrespectfully of
his dear mother was more than he could stand. Without stopping to think
of the consequences of his act, he shot out his left arm, his fist
caught the gambler squarely on the chin, and the fellow fell flat on his
back, after a desperate effort to retain his footing.
There were murmurs of astonishment from all in the room. The boy's act
was so sudden it took every one by surprise. Instinctively Will moved
nearer to his brother to protect him, for he felt there would be a
fight.
The gambler was on his feet in an instant. With a quick motion he drew a
revolver and leveled it at Jed.
"Put up that gun!" yelled a sudden voice, and every one turned to see
who had spoken. Old Gabe was entering the room. At the sight of him, the
gambler's hand shook, and he lowered the weapon.
"Ah! I've found you, have I!" exclaimed Gabe, as he pushed his way
through the crowd. "Now I've got you!"
"No, you haven't!" yelled the gambler, and, with a quick motion, he
jumped to one side, and out of an open window near the table,
disappearing in the darkness outside.