Overland Red: A Romance of the Moonstone Cañon Trail

by Henry Herbert Knibbs

  CHAPTER VII

  THE GIRL WHO GLANCED BACK

  At the crossroads in the valley stood the local jail, or "coop," as itwas more descriptively called. Unpainted, isolated, its solitaryugliness lacked even the squalid dignity commonly associated with theword "jail." The sun pelted down upon its bleached, unshaded roof andsides. The burning air ran over its warped shingles like a kind ofcolorless fire.

  The boy Collie, half-dreaming in the suffocating heat of the place,started to his feet as the door swung open. He had heard horses coming.They had stopped. He could hardly realize that the sunlight was swimmingthrough the close dusk of the place. But the girl of Moonstone Canon,reining Boyar round, was real, and she smiled and nodded a greeting.

  "This is Mr. Stone, my uncle," she said. "He wants to talk with you."

  With a glance that noted each unlovely detail of the place, the brokeniron bed, the cracked pitcher, and the unspeakable blankets, Louisetouched her pony and was gone.

  Collie rubbed his eyes, blinking in the sun as he stood gazing afterher.

  Walter Stone, standing near the doorway, noted the lad's clear, healthyskin, his well-shaped head with its tumble of wavy black hair, and theluminous dark eyes. He felt an instant sympathy for the boy, a sympathythat he masked with a business-like brusqueness. "Well, young man?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Come outside. It's vile in there."

  Stone led his pony to the north side of the "coop."

  Collie followed.

  Away to the west he saw the hazy peaks. A lake of burning air pulsedabove the flat, hot floor of the valley. Over there lay the hills andthe shade and the road.... Somewhere beyond was Overland, his friend,penniless, hunted, hungry....

  "She brung you?" queried the boy.

  "Yes. I have seen Tenlow, the sheriff. He is willing to let you go at myrequest. What do you intend doing, now that you are free?"

  "I don' know. Find Red, I guess."

  Walter Stone nodded. "What then?"

  "Oh, stick it out with Red. They'll be after him sure now. Red's mypal."

  "What has he done to get the police after him?"

  "Nothin'. It's the bunch."

  "The bunch?"

  "Uhuh. Them guys out on the Mojave. But say, are you workin' me to getnext to Red and get him pinched again?"

  "No. You don't have to answer me. This man Red is nothing to me, one wayor the other. He took Miss Lacharme's pony, but she has overlooked that.I thought, perhaps, you might care to explain your position. Perhaps youhad rather not. You may go now if you wish."

  "Is that straight?"

  "Yes."

  For several tense seconds the lad gazed at his questioner. Finally hisgaze shifted to the hills. "I guess you're straight," he said presently."I guess she wouldn't have you for a relation if you wasn't straight."

  The elder man laughed. "That's right--she wouldn't, young man."

  "How's the sheriff guy?" asked the boy.

  "He's getting along well enough. What made you ask?"

  "Oh, nothin'. I hate to see any guy get hurt."

  "I'm glad to hear you say that. I begin to think you are a bigger manthan he is."

  "Me?" And Collie flushed, misunderstanding the other's drift. "I guessyou're kiddin'."

  "No, I mean it. Mr. Tenlow still seemed pretty hot about your share inthis--er--enterprise. You seem to have no hard feelings against him."

  "Huh! He shouldn't to be sore at _me_. I didn't spur no horse onto himand ride him down like a dog. I guess Red would 'a' killed him if he'dseen it. Say, nobody got Red, did they?"

  "I haven't heard of it. How did this man Red come to pick you up? You'repretty young to be tramping."

  "Cross your heart you ain't tryin' to queer Red? You ain't tryin' to putthe Injun sign on us, are you?"

  "No. I have heard all about the Mojave affair--the prospector that diedon the track--and the arrest of Overland Red at Barstow. You told myniece that this Overland Red was 'square.' How did you come to be mixedup in it?"

  "I guess I'll have to tell you the whole thing, straight. Red alwayssaid that to tell the truth was just as good as lyin', because nobodywould believe us, anyway. And if a fella gets caught tellin' the truth,why, he's that much to the good."

  "Well, I shall try and believe you this time," said Stone. "MissLacharme thinks you're honest."

  "A guy couldn't lie to her!" said the boy.

  "Then just consider me her representative," said Stone, smiling.

  Collie squatted in the meager shade of the "coop."

  Walter Stone, dropping the pony's reins, came and sat beside the lad.There was something in the older man's presence, an unspoken assuranceof comradeship and sincerity that annulled the boy's tendency toreticence about himself. He began hesitatingly, "My dad was a drinkin'man. Ma died, and he got worse at it. I was a kid and didn't care, forhe never done nothin' to me. We lived back East, over a pawnbroker's onMain Street. One day pa come home with a timetable. He sat up 'most allnight readin' it. Every time I woke up, he was readin' it and talkin' tohimself. That was after ma died.

  "In the mornin', when I was gettin' dressed, he come over and says totake the needle he had and stick it through the timetable anywhere. Iwas scared he was goin' to have the jimmies. But I took the needle--ithad black thread in it--and stuck it through the timetable. He openedthe page and laughed awful loud and queer. Albuquerque was where theneedle went in. He couldn't say the name right, but he kept lookin' atit.

  "Then he went out and was gone all day and all night. When he come backhe showed me a whole wad of money. I says, 'Where did you get it?' Hegot mad and tells me to shut up.

  "That day we got on a train. I says, 'Where are we goin'?' and he saysto never mind, and did I want some peanuts.

  "We kept ridin' and ridin' in the same car, and eatin' bananas andsan'wiches and sleepin' settin' up at nights. I was just about sick whenwe come to Albuquerque. You see, that was where the needle went throughthe timetable, and dad said we would get off there. He got awful drunkthat night.

  "Next day he said he was goin' to quit liquor and make a fresh start. Iknowed he wouldn't, 'cause he always said that next mornin'. But I guesshe tried to quit. I don't know.

  "One night he didn't come back to the room where we was stayin' upstairsover the saloon. They found him 'way down the track next day, all cut topieces by the train."

  The boy paused, reached forward, and plucked a withered stem of grasswhich he wound round and round his finger.

  Walter Stone sat looking across the valley.

  "I guess his money was all gone," resumed the boy. "Anyhow, 'bout a yearafter, Overland Red comes along. He comes to the saloon where I wasstayin',--they give me a job cleanin' out every day,--and he got totalkin' a lot of stuff about scenery and livin' the simple life, and allthat guff. The bartender got to jawin' with him, and I laughed, and thebartender hits me a lick side the head. Red, he hits the bartender alick side of _his_ head--and the bartender don't get up right away.'I'll learn him to hit kids,' said Red. 'If you learn him to hit 'em ashard as that,' I says to Red, 'then it will be all off with me the nexttime.'

  "Does he hit you very often?' said Red.

  "Whenever he feels like it,' I told him.

  "Red laughed and said to come on. I was sick of there, so I run awaywith Red. We tried it on a freight and got put off. Red had some waterin a canteen he swiped. It was lucky for us he did. We kept walkin' andgoin' nights, and mebby ridin' on freights in the daytime if we could.One day, a long time after that, we was crossin' the desert again. Wegot put off a freight that time, too. We was walkin' along when we founda guy layin' beside the track. Red said he wasn't dead, but was dyin'.We give him some water. Then he kind of come to and wanted to drink itall. Red said, 'No.' Then the guy got kind of crazy. He got up andgrabbed Red. I was scared.

  "Red, he passed me the canteen and told me to keep it away from the guybecause more water would kill him. Then the guy went for Red. 'He'sdyin' on his feet,' said Red. 'It's his
last flash.' And he tried tohold the guy quiet, talkin' decent to him all the time. They wasstaggerin' around when the guy tripped backwards over the rail. His headhit on the other rail and Red fell on top of him. Anyway, the guy wasdead."

  Walter Stone shifted his position, turning to gaze at the boy's whiteface. "Yes--go on," he said quietly.

  "Red was for searchin' the guy, but I says to come on before we gotcaught. Red, he laughed kind of queer, and asked me, 'Caught at what?'Then I said, 'I dunno,' but I was scared.

  "Anyway, he went through the dead guy's clothes and found some papersand old letters and a little leather bag with a whole lot of gold-dustin it. Red said mebby five hundred dollars!"

  "Gold-dust?"

  "Uhuh! Then Red _was_ scared. He buried the bag and the papers 'way outin the sand and made a mark on the ties to find it by."

  "Did you find out the dead man's name?" asked Stone, glancing curiouslyat the boy.

  "Nope. We just beat it for the next station. I was feelin' sick. I giveout, and Red, he lugged me to the next water-tank. He was pourin' wateron me when the Limited come along and stopped, and _she_ throwed therose to us. Red told me about it after. You wouldn't go back on a pallike that, would you?"

  "No, I don't know that I should."

  "That's me!" said the boy. "Then they went to work and pinched us atBarstow. Said we killed the guy because his head was smashed in where hehit the rails. They tried to make Red say that he robbed the guy afterkillin' him. But Red told everything, except he didn't tell about theletters and the gold-dust. They tried to make me say it, but I dassent.I knowed they would fix Red sure if I did, and he told me not to tellabout the gold if they did pinch us."

  "They let you go--after the police examination. Then how is it that theauthorities are after you again?"

  "It's the bunch," replied the boy. "Them guys out there knowed the deadguy had a mine or a ledge or somethin' where he got the gold. Nobody waswise to where. They told at the jail how he used to come in once in awhile and send his dust to Los Angeles by the express company. All themguys like the sheriff and the station agent and all the people in thattown are workin' tryin' to find out where the gold come from. They thinkbecause Red and me is tramps that they can make us tell and arrest uswhenever they like. But even Red don't know, unless it's in the papershe hid in the sand."

  "That sounds like a pretty straight story," said Stone. "So you intendto stick to this man Red?"

  "Sure! Would you quit him now, when they're after him worst?"

  "They will get him finally."

  "Mebby. But Red's pretty slick at a getaway. If they do pinch him again,that's where I come in. I'm the only witness and the only friend he'sgot."

  "Of course. But don't you see, my boy, that your way of living is somuch against you that you couldn't really help him? A man's naked wordis worth just what his friends and neighbors will allow him for it, andno more."

  "But ain't a guy got no rights in this country?"

  "Certainly he has. But he has to prove that he is entitled to them, byhis way of living."

  "Then he's got to go to church, and work, and live decent, or he don'tget a square deal, hey?"

  "But why shouldn't he do that much?"

  Collie did not answer. Instead, he inspected his questioner criticallyfrom head to foot. "I guess you're right," he said finally. "I've heardfolks talk like that before, but I never took no stock. They kind ofsaid it because they knowed it. I guess you say it because you mean it."

  "Of course I do," said Stone heartily. "Well, here comes my niece withthe mail. See! Over there is El Camino Real, running north. My ranch isup _there_, in the hills. My foreman's name is Williams. If you shouldask him for work, I believe he might give you something to do. I heardhim say he needed a man, not long ago."

  Walter Stone cinched up the saddle and mounted his pony. The boy's eyesshone as he gazed at the strong, soldierly figure. Ah, to look likethat, and ride a horse like that!

  Boyar, the black pony, clattered up and stopped. "Hello, folks!" saidLouise, purposely including the boy in her greeting.

  Collie flushed happily. Then a bitterness grew in his heart as hethought of his friend Overland, hunted from town to town by the same lawthat protected these people--an unjust law that they observed andfostered.

  "Well?" said Stone.

  Collie's gaze was on the ground. "I don' know," he muttered. "I don'know."

  "Well, good luck to you!" And the ponies swung into that philosophicallope of the Western horse who knows his journey's length.

  The figures of the riders grew smaller. Still the boy stood in the road,watching them. Undecided, he gazed. Then came an answer to his stubbornself-questioning. Louise glanced back--glanced back for an instant inmute sympathy with his loneliness.

  Slowly the boy turned and entered the jail. He folded his coat over hisarm, stepped outside, and closed the door.

  Before him stretched the hot gray level of El Camino Real, the road tothe beyond. From it branched a narrower road, reaching up into thesouthern hills,--on, up to the mysterious Moonstone Canon with itssinging stream and its gracious shade. Somewhere beyond, higher, and inthe shadowy fastness of the great ranges lay the Moonstone Ranch ... herhome.

  "I guess, steppin' up smart, I'll be there just about in time forsupper," said the boy. And whistling cheerily, he set his feet towardthe south and the Moonstone Trail.