The Young Explorer; Or, Claiming His Fortune
Page 24
CHAPTER XXIV.
BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME.
Bradley was of a social disposition, and even without the gift oftobacco would have been glad of an addition to their small party.
"I'm glad to see you," he said, repeating his welcome. "I wonder Ididn't hear you comin'. Have you been long in Californy?"
"Well onto a year," said the one who seemed the elder of the two."How is it with you, stranger?"
"I have been here about as long," answered Bradley. "Ben has onlyjust come out."
"What luck have you had?" pursued the questioner.
"Good and bad. I made quite a pile, and went to 'Frisco and gambledit away like a fool. Now I've come back for another trial."
'"What might your name be?"
"Bradley-Jake Bradley. It isn't much of a name, but it'll do for me.The boy is Ben Stanton--come from the East."
"My name is Bill Mosely," said the other. "My friend's Tom Hadley.We're both from Missouri, and, though I say it, we're about aswide-awake as they make 'em. We don't stand no back talk, Tom andme. When a man insults me, I drop him," and the speaker rolled hiseyes in what was meant to stimulate ferocity.
Bradley eyed him shrewdly, and was not quite so much impressed asMosely intended him to be. He had observed that the greatestboasters did not always possess the largest share of courage.
"Isn't that so, Tom?" asked Bill Mosely, appealing to his friend.
"I should say so," answered Tom, nodding emphatically.
"You've seen me in a scrimmage more than once?"
"I should say I have."
"Did you ever see me shoot a man that riled me?"
"Dozens of times," returned Hadley, who appeared to play secondfiddle to his terrible companion.
"That's the kind of man I am," said Bill Mosely, in a tone ofcomplacency.
Still, Bradley did not seem particularly nervous or frightened. Hewas fast making up his mind that Mosely was a cheap bully, whosewords were more terrible than his deeds. Ben had less experience ofmen, and he regarded the speaker as a reckless desperado, ready touse his knife or pistol on the least provocation. He began to thinkhe would have preferred solitude to such society. He was rathersurprised to hear Bradley say quietly:
"Mosely, you're a man after my own heart. That's the kind of man Ibe. If a man don't treat me right, I shoot him in his tracks. Oneday I was drinkin' in a saloon among the foothills, when I saw a manwinkin' at me. I waited to see if he would do it again. When he did,I hauled out my revolver and shot him dead."
"You did?" exclaimed Mosely uneasily.
"Of course I did; but I was rather sorry afterward when I heard thathis eyelids were weak and he couldn't help it."
"Did you get into any trouble about it, stranger?" asked Mosely,with a shade of anxiety.
"No; none of the party dared touch me. Besides, I did the handsomething. I had the man buried, and put a stone over him. I couldn't doany more, could I?"
"No," said Mosely dubiously, and he drew a little farther away fromBradley.
"What do you find to eat?" he inquired, after a pause. "Tom and Iare as hungry as if we hadn't eaten anything for a week. You haven'tgot any provisions left over?"
"No; but you can have as good a supper as we had, and we had a goodone. What do you say to trout, now?"
Bill Mosely smacked his lips.
"Jest show me where I'll find some," he said.
Bradley pointed to the brook from which he had drawn his supply.
"I don't mind helping you," he said. "Ben, are you tired?"
"No, Jake."
"Then come along, and we'll try to get some supper for our friends."
"All right!" said Ben cheerfully.
In a short time a fresh supply of trout was drawn from the brook,and they were roughly cooked at the fire, Bradley officiating ascook.
"Now, my friends, set up," said he. "I'm sorry I can't give you anypotatoes, but the barrel's out, and it's too late to get any at thestore. Likewise, you must excuse the puddin', as it's too late tomake any."
The two visitors appeared to think no apologies were needful, forthey made short work with the trout. From the manner in which theydevoured their supper, it was quite evident that it was some timesince they had eaten. Ben and Bradley did not join them, havingalready eaten heartily.
"I hope you relished your supper, gentlemen," said Bradley politely.
"I should say we did," responded Tom Hadley.
"I say, them trout beat the world."
"I'll shoot the man that says they don't!" said Bill Mosely,relapsing into his old tone.
"So will I!" exclaimed Bradley, springing to his feet andbrandishing his revolver.
Ben began to see that he was playing a part, and, with assumedgravity, he looked to see what effect it would have on their newfriend.
"I say, stranger, don't handle that weapon of yours so careless,"said Mosely uneasily.
"I guess you're right," said Bradley, appearing to calm down. "OnceI was swingin' my gun kinder careless, and it went off and hit myfriend, Jim Saunders, in his shoulder. Might have been worse. He hada narrer escape. But Jim couldn't complain. I jest took care of him,night and day, till he got well. I couldn't do any more'n that, now,could I?"
"I reckon he'd rather you hadn't shot him," said Mosely dryly.
"I reckon you're right," said Bradley, with equanimity. "Such littleaccidents will happen sometimes, Mosely. Somehow, you can't alwayshelp it."
"It's best to be keerful," observed Mosely uneasily.
"I should say so," echoed his friend, Tom Hadley.
"Right you both are!" said Bradley affably. "I say, Mosely, I likeyou. You're jest such a sort of man as I am. You'd jest as lieveshoot a man as to eat your dinner; now, wouldn't you?"
"If he'd insulted me," said Mosely hesitatingly.
"Of course. Come, now, how many men have you killed, first andlast?"
"About twenty, I should think," answered the bully, who seemed togrow meeker and more peaceable as Bradley's apparent recklessferocity increased.
"Only twenty!" exclaimed Bradley contemptuously. "Why, that'snothing at all!"
"How many have you killed?" asked Mosely uneasily.
"Seventy or eighty, I should say," answered Bradley carelessly. "Ofcourse, a man can't keep an account of all these little affairs. Idid once think I'd keep a list, but I got tired of it after a shorttime, and gave it up after I'd got up to forty-seven."
"Where was you raised, stranger?" asked Mosely.
"In Kentucky-glorious old Kentuck! and if there's a man dares to saya word against my State, I'll take his life!" and Bradley sprang tohis feet.
"Lay down again, stranger," interposed Bill Mosely hastily. "There'sno one here wants to say a word agin' Kentuck. It's a glorious oldState, as you say. Isn't it, Tom?"
"I should say so," responded Tom Hadley, using his customaryformula.
"Are you in search of gold, Mosely?" asked Bradley, in a more quietmanner.
"We're kinder prospectin' among the hills," answered Mosely.
"You haven't come across anything yet, have you?"
"Not yet. Have you?"
"We're looking for a friend that's gone ahead. Maybe he's struck itrich. When we find him we'll turn in and help him."
"You've got one advantage of us, stranger. You've got hosses, andwe've had to walk."
"Why didn't you buy animals?"
"We did, but they were stolen from us a little way back."
"If our hosses should be stolen," said Bradley, "the thieves woulddie within a week."
Mosely and his friend looked at each other in silence, and theconversation languished.
"Ben," said Bradley, after the two visitors were fast asleep, "shallI tell you what I think of these two men?"
"Well, Bradley?"
"They are thieves, and they meant to steal our hosses."
"Won't they do it now?"
Bradley laughed.
"They'll be afraid to," he answered. "I've beaten them
at their owngame, and they think I'm as desperate a bully as they pretend to be.No; they won't think it safe to interfere with our property."
"How many men did you say you had killed, Jake?" asked Ben, with asmile.
"That was all talk. Thank Heaven, I haven't the blood of any fellowcreature on my hands!"