White Wolf's Law: A Western Story

by Hal Dunning

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE MINERS' MEETING

  Pop Howes' mine, the American Beauty, was about a mile from town on thesouth side of the mining gulch where the walls became sheer and closedin. At the foot of the slope he had built a small three-room shackwhere he and his wife lived. Back of this were the barns, a donkeyengine, and a narrow building where his Mexican workers formerly ateand slept. But the bunk house was now deserted, the engine silent. Nowork was going on in the shaft.

  For thirty years Pop Howes had worked and saved; now he had been robbedand was broke. He had exhausted his credit at the bank. His eyes werebitter as they stared at the empty buildings.

  The gulch had been formed by a cataclysm that had split a mountain whenthe world was young. On the north side of the gulch was the El DoradoMine that was making a fortune for its owners. Pop Howes believed thatthe El Dorado lode extended through the whole mountain, on the south aswell as the north side of the gulch, and that if he could run his shaftdown another hundred feet, to the same level as the El Dorado shaft,he, too, would strike a rich, ore-bearing vein.

  Jim Allen, who had accompanied Pop from town, glanced with readysympathy at the old man's brooding face. "So the bank wouldn't give yuha nickel?" he asked.

  "Not a nickel, darn 'em! They was only too glad to loan me fivethousand last year, but now they acts as if I was wantin' to stealmoney from 'em!" Pop cried wrathfully.

  "Maybe they figger if they don't lend yuh no money they'll get the minean' a fortune on the mortgage," the ragged one said thoughtfully.

  "Of course that's it. That young fellow that they sent here knew hisonions; he spent a week measurin' an' clippin' rock from this side an'then goin' over yonder an' doin' the same thing," Pop sputtered. "An'if it hadn't been for them darned quartz thieves what cleaned me outlast week, I'd never have had to ask the bank for no money!"

  The two reached the house and entered a long, low room where they foundMrs. Howes waiting for them. She was a thin, frail woman of fifty. Herface was lined and her hair snow-white, but her eyes still had thecheerful courage of the woman who has been taught by life to take thegood with the bad. One look at her husband's face and she knew his tripto the county seat had been unsuccessful.

  Experience had taught her that disappointment is easier to bear on afull stomach, so she bustled into the kitchen and returned a fewminutes later with a dish of venison stew. She placed this on the tableand added a plate of hot biscuits and a pot of coffee.

  When the men returned from washing up she had already piled theirplates high with the steaming stew. Pop Howes slumped into his chairand gloomily told himself he was to lose the chance of a fortune, afterthirty years' labor, for the lack of only a few dollars.

  It was not that he minded so much for himself, but his wife, who hadstood by him through all sorts of hardships, loneliness, and thebitterest poverty, deserved some reward. Not that she had evercomplained, though he had noticed at times a wistful look in her eyesand even the traces of tears. He knew that she wanted to visit againthose relatives of hers in the East whom she had not seen since thedays of her marriage. And recently, when they had thought they wouldsoon strike the lode, soon have money, she had looked forward to itwith a new longing.

  Hardly had the two men finished their dinner when a messenger arrivedwith the news that a miners' meeting was to be held that evening at thehotel.

  "Bill Tucker sent up north an' asked one of them gun-slingin' sheriffsto come an' help ketch the quartz thieves," the messenger explained.

  "Never knew Bill Tucker had enough sense to do that. Always figgeredhim as the dumbest town marshal I ever see," Pop Howes grunted.

  He arose, buckled on his gun, took his coat and hat from the peg behindthe door, and filled his pipe. After he had lighted it he turned to themessenger and asked thoughtfully:

  "Who's this gun-slingin' hombre?"

  "Jack-twin Allen, the Wyoming sheriff."

  Pop Howes glanced at the small figure sitting by the fire, started tospeak, thought better of it, and clumped from the room. The messengerfollowed.

  The woman glanced curiously at Jim Allen, but her curiosity was tingedby sympathy and understanding. After a moment she asked falteringly:

  "He's your brother?"

  "Yeh. Twin brother." The voice was toneless, flat.

  "An'--have you spoken to him?" she asked. At the sight of his face sheinstantly regretted her words.

  "Naw, an' I don't reckon I will. 'Cause, yuh see, Jack's here onbusiness, an' he can't go cavortin' about with a disreputable gent likeme. Reckon I'll pull out pronto."

  Jim Allen was grinning now and he spoke with assumed indifference, butthe woman saw behind the mask.

  "Let me tell yuh somethin', ma'am. Jack Allen is the darnedest,fightingest gent I ever see. Let me tell yuh what he done now."

  Enthusiastically Allen poured out praises of his brother's courage, hisskill, and the wonderful things he had accomplished. But the more hepraised his brother, the more the woman understood his grief. Jim-twinAllen was an outlaw, with a fortune on his head; his brother was anofficer of the law--the gulf between the two was insurmountable.

  * * * * *

  When Pop Howes arrived at the hotel he found "Hard-rock" Hogan and BillTucker, the town marshal, waiting for him. Tucker was a powerfullybuilt man with a round, red face, a large mouth, and small gray eyes.

  "Howdy, Pop!" he cried jovially. "We sent for Baldy Kane, StevenBrandon, 'Two-finger' Smith, and some of the other boys. Bill Tuckersent up North and asked Jack-twin Allen--yuh've heard of him,yes?--well, Bill asked him to come on down here to help ketch thesehere quartz robbers. Well, he's here now, feedin' his face, an' he'llbe in here pronto."

  Bill Tucker cultivated a hearty, jovial manner, and, as the differentowners and managers of mines in the gulch arrived, he greeted each onelike a long-lost brother. Steve Brandon, the manager of the El Dorado,was one of the last to arrive.

  He was a short, heavy man with gray hair and a close-cropped mustache.When he spoke he snapped out his words like pistol shots. Shortly afterSteve Brandon arrived, Baldy Kane slid into the room. He nodded tothose present, and then his face became an expressionless, claylikemask. He silently drifted into a dark corner.

  "I hears tell that this here Jack Allen is faster than his brotherJim," Bill Tucker boomed.

  "Not any," Pop declared shortly but emphatically.

  "Wonder if the two speak? It's darn funny--Jack comes here to clean upthis town, an' here is Jim, his brother, the best of all thejailbirds." The marshal chuckled as if he found the situation amusing.

  Hard-rock Hogan was one of the men who had worked in and about minessince early childhood; he had lived all his life among rough, violentmen, and his experience with human nature was vast. He had discoveredthat many men used words to hide their thoughts, while otherscultivated a masklike face after the manner of Baldy Kane. He glancedcuriously at Bill Tucker.

  Now he saw only the tragedy that lay beneath the meeting of twobrothers in such circumstances, and he wondered if the town marshal hadbeen aware the two would meet when he sent his invitation to JackAllen. He was curious as to that, but he was more curious as to thereason behind the invitation; he was reasonably sure Tucker had somehidden motive. Hogan was still pondering the matter when the dooropened and Jack Allen entered.

  The famous Wyoming sheriff and United States marshal was cool andcollected. His eyes swept the room and rested on each man in turn. Mostof the miners met his searching gaze unflinchingly. But there were oneor two men there who hastily looked away, for they had a feeling thatAllen's rather hard brown eyes might read more than they cared to tell.Bill Tucker stepped forward and introduced Allen to the assembly.

  "Howdy, gents!" Jack greeted them.

  They murmured a reply, then all grew silent.

  "Suppose yuh give me a line on what's been goin' on here," the littleman suggested.

&
nbsp; "It's this way," Bill Tucker explained. "The placers has been givin'out an' there ain't nothin' but quartz mining hereabouts now. Abouteight mines are workin' sinkin' shafts. The veins are darned thin butmighty rich. About four months ago some gang started stealin' quartz,an' since then every darn mine has been robbed."

  "On the quiet or with guns?" Allen interrupted.

  "Sometimes one, sometimes the other. The last time this here gangworked they held up the American Beauty--about a week ago--shot oneguard, locked up the workers, and made off with about four thousanddollars in quartz," the town marshal explained.

  "When did you find out about it?" Jack Allen asked.

  Pop Howes cut into the conversation. "I was stayin' in town that nightwith my wife an' went out to the mine about daylight. I find a youngMex kid I left in the house, gunned proper, an' the rest locked up, soI come into town an' fetched Bill Tucker."

  "Yuh track 'em? Where did they go?"

  "Yeh, I follered them clear to the head of the canyon an' then comeback. Yuh see, I'm town marshal, an' we got a tough bunch of hombreshangin' aroun' here, so I got to sorter stick close to town an' not gotrackin' across the mountains." Bill Tucker flushed beneath Allen'sdirect appraisal and floundered in his explanation.

  "Why for d'yuh let these here tough hombres hang aroun'?" Allen askedquickly.

  "Why for? 'Cause--why, there's a bunch of 'em, an' I sorta figgered tolet the past slide, so long as the boys behaved," Bill Tucker saiduneasily. His eyes refused to meet Jack Allen's direct gaze and glancedfurtively about the room.

  "All right. The first thing to do, then, is to make a list of all thegents what is not workin', an' all them who have a reward on 'em or areknown to be bad ones, an' tell 'em to get out of town," the Wyomingsheriff said quietly.

  "Would yuh put your brother, Jim Allen, on that list?" Steve Brandonbarked.

  "Yes!" Jack Allen snapped.

  The miners regarded Allen curiously. Instinctively they knew he spokethe truth and would lock his own brother in jail if called upon to doso in the line of duty. Here was a man who made a fetish of honesty.Some of them had heard of him by reputation. Honest, hard, relentlessin his pursuit of outlaws, he was known to be just. He cared nothingabout the rewards for the outlaws he sought; having cleaned up a townor county, he would silently fade away, none the richer for his work.

  After a general discussion, it was agreed that Jack Allen was to begiven a free hand in the gulch. For a long while Bill Tucker insistedhe should have authority within the town limits, but at length he wasforced to give way and to agree to take orders from Allen.

  Later, as Hard-rock Hogan and Pop Howes were walking up the starlitgulch toward their homes, they both chuckled as they recalled BillTucker's expression when Jack Allen questioned him.

  "Bill sorta showed up as a windbag, didn't he?" the old prospectorremarked.

  "Yeh, Jack Allen is sure enough a little hellion on wheels." Hard-rockgrinned his admiration.

  "How come yuh persuaded Bill to write to him?" asked Pop.

  "I ain't supposed to say, but it was Steve Brandon who got me to prodBill to get Jack Allen," Hard-rock answered, after a moment'shesitation.

  When Pop Howes entered the living room he found Jim-twin Allen waitingfor him. Pop laughed as he related what had happened at the miners'meeting that night.

  "An' yuh say it was Steve Brandon who started gettin' Jack down here?"Allen asked curiously.

  "Yeh. Steve sure has a head on him. Reckon he don't want it known forfear these here quartz robbers will get after him."

  "Listen, Pop. I've been thinkin'. That night they robbed yuh--yuh saythe kid they downed was dressed in his underclothes an' wasn't armed?"

  "Yeh."

  "Did yuh ever think that maybe some one downed that kid, figgerin' itwas you--an' done it for a purpose?" Allen asked.

  Pop Howes frowned and stared thoughtfully into the fire.

  "Jim, I reckon you're correct. An' that means that gang is workin' forsome one who knows I'm due to strike it rich an' wants to cash me in sohe can buy my claim off the old woman for almost nothin'!"

  "Well, I figgers I'll bunk here, an', if they comes ag'in, I'll give'em a surprise." Allen grinned cheerfully.

  Pop Howes lay awake for a long time that night. He racked his braindespairingly, trying to think of some way by which he could raise themoney to continue his operations and at the same time pay the bank itsinterest on the mortgage. The more he puzzled, the more hopeless itseemed. He was within a few feet of riches and, for the want of a fewdollars, would be forced to watch some one else profit by his work. Hethought of his wife, sleeping quietly beside him--how patient she hadbeen, how hard working! Time after time she had been forced to worklike a slave while he was in the mountains prospecting. And now whatgood had it done?

  Pop turned back to bed. His wife tossed restlessly and moaned in hersleep.