him reckless. Leaving her without another word, he went to the Pioneer. There Sudden found him an hour later and one glance showed him the state of affairs.
'Tryin' to buy the business a glassful at a time?' he asked sarcastically, and then, 'So Uncle is all wool an' a yard wide, huh?'
'Shore, an' at that he ain't so wide as Mister Lesurge,' Mason sneered.'Yu were dumb enough to mention him, o' course?'
'I on'y said he looked like a card-sharp an' she r'ared right up--I thought she was goin' to eat me.'
'A sad mouthful--she would have had a headache in the mornin'. Well, yu seem to have made a mess of it, an' that rotgut won't help none. Let's vamoose.' As they stepped from the door of the saloon, Mason staggered and nearly fell. And, of course, it was at that moment Miss Ducane and Lesurge passed on the other side of the street. The girl gave them one glance of mingled pity and disgust and went on, her head high.
'Your young friend appears to be enjoying himself,' Lesurge commented.
'I didn't think he was that kind,' she replied sadly, a little conscious that she might be responsible for the lapse.
'Oh, cattlemen are all alike,' he said easily. 'Women and drink are irresistible magnets to them.'
'Yes, I suppose so,' she returned, and wondered why she should regret it.
* * * The next few days were spent in preparing for the journey westwards and in the course of them Mary Ducane came to know and like the old man she called 'Uncle.' Queer he undoubtedly was, but always, to her, kind and considerate. He was eager to start for the gold-fields and extravagant in his promises of what he would do for her.
It had been arranged that Lesurge and his 'friend'--Fagan --who had expressed his contrition to Miss Ducane and been prettily pardoned--should join them in their journey to the Black Hills. They would not be alone. Tim Welder's reports and Snowy's stories of lucky strikes in the old wild Californian days had aroused the cupidity and adventurous spirit of some of the younger Waysiders, tempting them to try their fortunes at the new diggings.
'Yu fellas oughta come along,' Welder remarked to the two cowboys on the night before the start was to be made. 'Why, I reckon we'll trail with yu,' Sudden said, and saw the fleeting frown pass across the face of Lesurge. He looked at the saloon-keeper. 'I didn't figure on stayin' here, anyways.' The cowboys consulted Snowy as a matter of course and when he had advised on the question of outfit, he added: 'I'm right glad you boys is comin'. Don't git too fur from me--fella never knows when he'll need a friend:' With a finger on his lips he stole away.
'Now what d'yu make o' that?' Gerry queried, when they were alone. 'O' course, he's weak in the head.'
'Mebbe,' Sudden replied. 'Did yu notice that he kept glancin' over his shoulder an' that Lesurge an' Angel- face wasn't about? They ain't pleased we're goin'--not a little mite, an' that's a good reason for not changin' our minds.'
'An' for takin' Snowy's tip to stay around.'
'Shore, but I misdoubt we're headed for trouble.'
'I ain't carin',' the boy said. 'I can shoot some, an' I'm guessin' yu know about guns, seem' yu tote a couple.'
'It's a matter o' balance,' Sudden explained gravely. 'One makes me walk all lopsided. Allasame, I do savvy which end to point at the other man.'
'Yeah. Yo're forgettin' I was present when yu put Angel-face through his paces,' Gerry said, and regretted the reminder when he saw the twinkle in the other's eyes.
'I ain't,' Sudden replied. 'How's this strike yu for a tombstone? `Here lies Gerry Mason. He turned his back.' ' The boy laughed. It was impossible to be angry with this drawling, lazy-appearing stranger who had saved his life, and of whom he knew nothing.
Chapter IV
For weeks they had been traversing an apparently limitless, undulating waste of short grass, burned brown by the sun, and broken here and there by shallow ravines. There were no trees save occasional patches of cottonwoods by the river-banks, but bushes of greasewood, sagebrush and prickly pear were more plentiful. The nights were cold, the mornings clear and pleasant, but as the day advanced the heat increased and the travellers were almost stifled by the billowing clouds of sand and alkali dust churned up by the thousands of plodding hoofs.
The trail, scored and rutted by use, stretched out interminably to the horizon. Twenty-five miles a day was good going, and unless an outfit broke down, no attempt was made to pass it. If the daylight hours were long and monotonous, nightfall brought plenty to do. Camp had to be made, the wagons ranged in big circles, forage fetched--for the trail had beeneaten bare for some distance on both sides, wells dug--unless they were near a river--holes two or three feet deep, into which the water slowly seeped.
Smudge fires of greasewood or sage, aromatic but pungent and irritating, kept the mosquitoes at bay, and then came supper--bacon, beans, cornbread, pies made of dried fruits, and coffee.
The Wayside contingent had joined the train two weeks earlier. The men had their mounts, but a place was found for Miss Ducane in one of the leading wagons, to which party her uncle, Lesurge, and Fagan also attached themselves. The cowboys found a welcome with the traveller immediately behind, a raw-boned agriculturist from Missouri, who had a small herd of cattle to serve as relays for his team and to form a nucleus for the farm he hoped to establish.
For while some of the adventurers were headed for the goldfields, more were genuine settlers, crossing the continent to people and till the untamed soil of California and Oregon. The Missourian counted himself lucky to get a couple of cowboys to handle his herd and was well content to feed them in return for their service. They too did not complain, for his wife was a good cook.
'Which that woman's pumpkin pie is liable to wreck the happiness of any single fella,' was how Gerry put it.
'I'm takin' yore word,' Sudden said satirically. 'Gawd knows yu've concealed enough of it; I never seen anyone push pie into his face so fast an' frequent.' Before the outraged young man could find an adequate retort, he deftly switched the conversation, 'Seen Miss Ducane lately?' The red crept up under the boy's tanned skin. His fondness for riding ahead to 'take a look at the country' had not escaped his companion's notice. He had seen her but--and this was where the shoe pinched--she had not, apparently, seen him. So he lied brazenly.
'No,' he replied carelessly, 'She 'pears to stick to that blame' wagon like she was glued to it. Mister Lesurge is plenty active though, gettin' to be quite popular among the parties goin' to the Black Hills.' Sudden digested this in silence. Actually it was no news; he had already observed Lesurge's efforts to get acquainted with that section of his fellow-travellers and had put it down to the fellow's natural vanity.
'Fagan's got a new friend too,' Mason went on. 'Shortish chap with bow-legs an' a mean eye, called `Bandy'.'
'What's the name o' the other eye?' Sudden asked interest edly, and listened to a short but pithy description of himself. 'This hombre has a Dago's black greasy hair an' his face looks like someone had pushed it in.'
'Han'some fella,' Sudden commented. 'No, I ain't seen him.' The omission was to be rectified a little later when the chase of a steer took him down the trail. Returning with the runaway at the end of his rope, he pulled up at a halted wagon, with a group of men ringed round two others. One of these, a slight bow-legged man with a peculiarly fiat face and beady eyes, was bending forward, a hand on his pistol. The other, a burly, bearded teamster, stood a dozen paces away, gripping his whip.
'Pull yore gun, farmer,' the former was saying. 'I'll larn you to lay yore paws on Dick Rodd.'
'I don't use none,' the other replied. 'If you was more'n half a man I'd take my han's to you, but ...' His look of contempt at the puny figure of his adversary finished the sentence.
One of the onlookers now noticed the man on the black horse. 'Hey, cowboy,' he called. 'Yo're the fella to settle this; you've seen gun-fights, I'll lay.' Sudden rode nearer. 'What's the trouble?' he inquired.
The teamster explained, with an angry gesture towards his opponent: 'This rat has been shinin' up to my daughter, who don't want none of his company. I've warned him two-three times to keep his distance an' now I find him pesterin' her again. I had to argue with him.'
'He kicked me--me, Dick Rodd,' the little man almost screamed. 'He dies for that, the ' He ended with a string of obscenities.
'Why didn't yu let the gal alone if she didn't want yu?' the cowboy asked.
