So Rogers found him later, and having doctored the hurt --an ugly scalp wound--to the best of his ability, got the old man to bed and straightened up the place. It was some hours ere Jacob recovered sufficiently to explain, and he did not tell all he knew.
'Must 'a' been someone who knowed Jim an' his pardner warn't here--wouldn't 'a' tried it else,' the miner decided. 'Me an' the boys'll camp with you till they're back.'
'That's good of you, Rogers, but they know there's nothing here now,' the patient protested.
'Shore, but other skunks don't, an' Deadwood's full of 'em,' was the reply. 'On that, you'll need nussin'. If Jim comes back an' finds we ain't looked after you he'll crawl our humps good an' plenty.'
'I can't picture you afraid of anyone,' the gold-buyer smiled.
'You got me wrong,' Rogers said. 'If Jim invited me to pull my gun I'd do it an' go to hell with my self- respect, anyways. But he's white, an' I'd hate for him to be disappointed in me. Sabe?' Jacob looked at the rough, hard face and smiled again. 'I know, my friend,' he said gently. 'A white man. That is saying it all. I'd ask for no better epitaph.' He was silent for a while, thinking, and then he turned to Rogers.
'Listen. I am not much hurt--just a broken head, but I intend to lie low and let it be thought serious,' he said. 'When d'you figure the boys'll be back?' Rogers asked.
'I cannot guess. They are on a dangerous mission and I shall be anxious,' was the reply.
Chapter XVIII
The gold-buyer was not the only one to be concerned respecting the cowboys. Lesurge, from entirely different motives, was also worried. Everything else was going well. Stark's influence in Deadwood was growing, and he had the man in his pocket. Hickok, whom he feared, was disposed of, and his slayer--having been acquitted by a miners' court--had left the district, to pay the penalty for his crime later, after a trial before a regular tribunal.
All was now ready for the final coup--the seizure of Ducane's mine, the wealth from which would enable him to gratify his grasping ambition. But for this he needed Green, who--as he believed--alone knew the location, and he coveted the gold stolen from the stage. So, as day succeeded day, and there was no sign of the puncher, Paul's usually placid forehead grew more furrowed. Once, as they were finishing the evening meal, he jocularly referred to the difficulty he was facing:
'Forgetfulness must be catching, Phil, and you seem to have infected Miss Mary.'
'Memories is queer things, Paul,' Snowy replied. 'Mine has served me scurvy tricks but I reckoned I'd played safe when I took Green with me that time--plainsmen is used to rememberin' trails. Now it looks like he's got lost in the woods--I ain't seen him quite a while.' Lesurge told him why, giving the version he had used for Stark, and concluding with, 'I doubt if either of them will show up again.' Lora had listened with growing doubt. He had told her nothing of this matter, but she was acquainted with his methods. Her shrewd brain divined the deadlock he had stumbled into, and even self-interest did not prevent a sense of spiteful satisfaction.
'You seem to have handled this outlaw all the cards, Paul,' she remarked. 'He has the gold, and--since he alone knows where to find it--he has the mine too. I've never known you so generous.' The cool, sarcastic tone stung as though she had lashed him with a whip, but while his dark eyes were threatening, his voice remained unruffled:
'Lora, with her usual lucidity, has put the matter in a nutshell. If Green does not return ...'
'He dasn't, if he's corralled the gold,' Snowy pointed out. 'That's so, and therefore we have to find the mine without him,' Paul said. 'Mary, can't you cudgel that pretty head and come to our assistance?' The girl shook the pretty head. Though she did not know why her silence was desired, she was loyal to the old man. 'It ain't Paul, but the fellas he's mixed up with,' her uncle had said. 'They might git ahead of us. Which was not very clear, but it satisfied her.
'I've tried to remember,' she replied. 'Something about travelling north-west, over a ridge and past a peak, but that doesn't help much, does it?'
'I'm afraid not,' Paul admitted. 'The confounded country is all ridges and peaks. Never mind, we'll find it; I don't allow little obstacles like that to beat me.' He looked at his sister. 'One of your admirers is complaining of not seeing you. Yes, Reuben Stark. Suppose we all go over and let Mary see what Deadwood can do in the way of entertainment?'
'I'd like to, if it will be-all right,' the girl said.
'Of course it will--you'll be with us,' Lora cried eagerly. 'Come along, we must make ourselves beautiful.' Lesurge paid the obvious compliment as they ran out of the room, and turned to his companion.
'Phil, that niece of yours'--there was a sneering emphasis on the last word--'gets prettier every day. You'll lose her, certain, but not, I hope, to a common cowboy.'
'Her father ran a small ranch an' warn't o' much account,' Snowy replied.
'No reason for her to stay in the mire because she was born there,' the other retorted. 'If her uncle'--again the emphasis--'was not romancing, she'll be a rich woman, and should marry a--gentleman.'
'Yeah,' Snowy said, and then, with apparent inconsequence, 'She thinks a lot o' yu, Paul.'
'I'm very glad to know it,' Lesurge smiled, and turning to the door, failed to see the old man's savage grimace.
The Monte provided three forms of amusement for its patrons. On the right of the wide space in front of the long bar, with its shining array of bottles, one might lose or win money, as fortune decided, at various games of chance; on the left there was dancing, to the strains of a couple of fiddles and a somewhat tinny piano; for those who cared for neither of these attractions, tables and chairs enabled them to consume liquor in comfort.
At first, the bright lights, swimming in a haze of blue tobacco smoke, the music, the clamour of many voices and boisterous laughter would have made Mary Ducane retreat, but the sight of her own sex among the company reassured her. Ignorant of the world, she did not notice that they were harsh-toned, over-painted and under- dressed; they were women, and justified her presence.
A hum of admiration greeted Lora Lesurge, as, arm-in-arm with the younger girl, she advanced along the narrow aisle leading to the back of the room. Cold, aloof, confident in the power of her beauty, she stilled the tongues of men who had wellnigh lost respect for everything that wore a skirt. The saloon-keeper, who had seen her enter, watched her progress with greedy eyes.
'Damn me, she's shore a queen,' he muttered, and hastened to meet her.
She received him with a baffling smile and presented her companion.
'Miss Lora,' he said. 'The Monte is honoured indeed; if I'd knowed ... Pleased to meetcha, Miss Ducane. Hello, Paul; yo're a public benefactor, for once; Deadwood don't see near enough of its most charmin' citizens.' He led the way to a table set apart, at which two men were sitting. They rose, bowed to the women, and would have moved away but Stark protested:
'Set down, boys, you know pretty near everybody here. Miss Ducane, meet Jack Lider an' Bill Eddy, two o' the town's most prominent men.'
'Don't you believe him, ma'am,' Eddy smiled, as he shook hands. 'There's on'y one prominent man in Deadwood an' he's goin' to order a bottle of wine, ain't you, Reuben?'
'No, sir,' Stark grinned. 'I'm agoin' to order two.' The wine was brought, the ladies toasted, and the men began to discuss Deadwood's most absorbing topic--gold. Mary was free to study the strange scene. The noise was incessant. To the jangle of the piano and scraping of the fiddles, she watched rough-shirted, coatless men dancing, their heavy boots beating up clouds of dust from the board floor. A few had female partners, others one of their own sex, and to keep moving seemed to be the only rule observed. Bursts of laughter and an occasional good-natured oath when one couple collided with another punctuated the proceedings. On the other side of the room, where the gamblers were gathered, there was little less din; above the rattle of dice, the shuffling of feet, and whirr of the roulette wheel, players loudly bemoaned their losses or exulted over their gains. Throughout the room men wrangled and cursed each other, but she saw no violence.
Absorbed in what was going on, Mary took little notice of the conversation, but she gleaned that they were talking of the coach robbery, and that Eddy and Lider were, after Stark, the principal sufferers.
'I acted for the best,' she heard the saloon-keeper say. 'Jacob vouched for Green, an' he was riskin' a tidy bit hisself.'
'Perhaps he was in on it,' Paul suggested.
'Hell! I never thought o' that,' Stark said. 'Come to think, I ain't seen him since, neither. What is it?' as an attendant approached.
