SAG RUFF'S THREAT
For the time being the excitement was high in the gambler's shack
and Mark thought that somebody would surely be shot. The men present
affirmed that they had lost about a thousand dollars between them,
whereas Sag Ruff had only nine hundred dollars on hand with which to
make a settlement.
"Where is the rest of the money?" demanded one man.
"Lost it," answered the gambler. "Fellow named Hi Wilson got it from
me."
"I reckon that's right," said another. "He played with Hi night before
last and Hi went off with over three hundred dollars. He was too
sharp-eyed for this rascal."
"I'll fix this," said Maybe Dixon. "He owes us one thousand. Nine
hundred is a thousand with ten per cent. off, as the schoolmasters say.
Everybody gits wot is comin' to him less ten per cent. Ain't I right,
Perfesser?" The last to a man who had once taught in Yale College, and
who was now as eager to hunt gold as anybody.
"That is correct," answered the professor, with a nod of his bald head.
"Make the Perfesser the bookkeeper," said another man, and this was
done, and in a very few minutes the money was divided in the proper
ratio. During the proceedings the gambler looked glum. He gave Mark a
savage glance.
"I'll remember you, sonny!" he hissed, in a low tone.
"I'll remember you too," answered Mark, but the gambler's remark caused
him to shiver. He knew that Sag Ruff was angry enough to kill him if
given the opportunity.
It was after midnight, yet the camp was alive with people. The news
had spread that somebody had exposed a swindler, and a crowd began to
collect. Sag Ruff wanted to run away, but Maybe Dixon and some of the
others would not let him go.
"We are not done with you," said one man.
"Why not? I've given up all I've got," growled the swindler.
"We are going to teach you a lesson," said another.
"Ride him on a rail!"
"Duck him in the river!"
These and several other suggestions rang out. Torches were procured,
and in a few minutes one man found a long tent pole, which answered
very well for a rail. Sag Ruff was hoisted on this and marched through
the camp. Then he was taken to a pond filled with dirty water and
tumbled in head first.
"Now don't show your face on this trail again!" shouted several.
"If you do you'll be shot!" added several others.
Filled with rage and fear, Sag Ruff dragged himself from the pond and
hurried out of sight behind a nearby row of tents. As he went on he had
to pass the outfit belonging to our friends. He caught sight of Mark
just going into the tent.
"Look here, sonny!" he hissed, in a voice full of hate and bitterness.
"I shan't forget you, and some day I'll square up! Don't forget, I'll
square up!" And then the darkness of the night swallowed up his form.
"Who is there?" asked Si, rousing up in his sleep.
"It is all right, Si, I'm just getting back."
"Oh, all right, Mark. Did you see anything worth seeing?"
"I did--and I saved Maybe Dixon some money. But I guess I've made a
bitter enemy and one who is bound to do me an injury if he possibly
can."
"I thought I heard some shouting," said the country boy, as he sat up
in the darkness. "What was it all about?"
"I'll tell you in the morning. No use of waking Bob. I know he is
tired," answered Mark, and then he turned in beside his chums. But it
was all of an hour before he could get to sleep, and then he dreamed
that he was out in a shower of playing cards and Sag Ruff was pursuing
him with a big butcher knife. He awoke with a start, to find himself
bathed from head to feet in a cold perspiration.
In the morning he told his two friends the particulars of what had
occurred. He was just finishing the recital when Maybe Dixon hove into
sight, with a broad smile on his rather leathery features.
"This is the boy as done it!" he cried, slapping Mark on the back.
"Showed up the meanest swindler this camp ever struck."
"Where is Sag Ruff?" asked Mark.
"Gone,--an' he won't dare show his face on this trail ag'in, to my way
o' thinkin'."
"I am sure I don't want to see him again."
"He'll turn up some day, when you least expect it," said Bob, and told
the truth, as later events proved.
"Mark, I owe ye something for saving my money," went on Dixon.
"I don't want anything," was the prompt answer.
"The boys got together after the rail-ridin' an' duckin' was over,"
went on Maybe Dixon. "They made up a purse. Here it is--and you've got
to take it."
Dixon handed over the "purse," which proved to be a red bandana
handkerchief. Inside was a card on which were written the names of
sixteen men who had contributed to the fund. With the card was sixty
dollars, in bills and silver.
"You've got to keep it," said the man "from everywhere." "If ye don't
the boys will be mad."
"All right, I'll keep it, then," said Mark. "I am very much obliged and
I'll tell them so, when I meet them." And he kept his word. The sixty
dollars came in very handy, for funds all around were running low again.
Sunday was spent at Fort Laramie, and bright and early Monday morning
they took again to the trail, which now led across some broad stretches
of prairie lands, dotted here and there with clumps of trees and
bushes. Soon they were along the Platte once again, and then they left
the immediate vicinity of the river and took to the dry bed of a stream
which had once been a good-sized body of water. By Wednesday they were
again ascending a ridge.
"We'll be getting to the foothills soon," said Mark. "Then is when the
real climbing will begin."
"Not to say anything about when we reach the real mountains," put in
Bob. "They say some of the spots are fearful."
"The question is, are we going through this fall or are we going to
wait until next spring?" came from Si. "We've got to do one thing or
tudder."
"Oh, don't let us wait," said Mark, impatiently.
"I don't know as we can afford to wait," added the former sailor boy.
"We haven't any too much money, and if we remain here all winter we'll
be stranded in the spring, so far as money is concerned."
The boys talked it over several nights, while seated around the
campfire. They learned that Socket was going through without delay, and
also several other emigrants with families.
"If those fellows can get through with women and children we ought to
be able to get through," said Mark.
"Maybe they won't get through," said Maybe Dixon, who was present.
"More'n one pusson has lost his life on a mountain trail in snowy
weather."
"I know that," answered Bob. "But I, for one, am pretty tough. When I
was whaling I was often out in the north seas in a blinding snowstorm
and always got back to the ship in safety."
"All the same, I reckon a howling snowstorm in the mountains is not to
be sneezed at," said Si, with a shake of his head.
There was a general pause.
"Do we go, or don't we?" asked Mark, boldly. "I say go on."
"So do I."
"We'll risk it."
And so it was decided. Maybe Dixon said he would accompany them, and
made out a list of what he thought they ought to take along on the long
and perilous climb over the Rockies.
The roads so far had been fair, but now they often struck barren spots
and places where it was next to impossible to get good water.
"Gosh, how this smells!" exclaimed Si, on getting a drink one afternoon
at a spring.
"There is sulphur in that water, and also magnesia," answered Mark.
"Will it hurt one to drink it?"
"I think not--but I wouldn't drink too much."
The next day they came to another spring, this time of good, cold
water. Over the spring was a rude board on which were the words:
Drink Your Fill Here!
Thirty-two Miles to the Next Good Water!
"There's a warning for all," said Si. "I am going to get all I want."
"Yes, and we'll give Darling a good drink too," added Bob.
They filled their water jug, and also the three pails and kettles they
carried. To keep the water from slopping from the pails and kettles
they covered the vessels with canvas, tied around with strings.
The next day came traveling of the worst kind. The trail was more
barren than ever and the hot sun poured down upon them mercilessly.
Not a tree of any kind was in sight, sage was on every side, dotting
the sand but offering no fodder for the cattle. Even Darling would not
look at the sage. He plodded along with his ears laid back and his head
bobbing wearily.
That night they did not build a fire but simply lay down to rest in the
open, eating a cold and rather dry supper. They kept the last of the
water until morning, and even then saved a few swallows of the precious
liquid.
"We'd be pretty bad off if we didn't strike that spring," said Mark.
"Think of going a whole day without water!"
"Or two days--in this heat," put in Si. "It's enough to drive one
crazy."
Slowly they went on, with a great cavalcade in front and behind them.
Noon came and went and the boys calculated that they were still four
miles from the spring.
"Never mind, we'll reach it inside of two hours," said Maybe Dixon,
hopefully. "But even so, I'd give a dollar this minit fer a good glass
o' cold drinkin' water."
"Don't mention it," said Mark. "You make me more thirsty than ever."
On and on they went, until they calculated they must be within half a
mile of the precious spring. Then, of a sudden, they heard a commotion
ahead of them.
"Something is wrong sure!" cried Bob, and brought Darling to a halt.
There was a cry, taken up by the pioneers one after another, a cry that
made the hearts of the three boys sink like lead in their bosoms:
"The spring ahead has gone dry! There isn't a drop of water for any of
us!"