CHAPTER XVIII
TWO AMBUSHES
The clock at the new Verinder Building showed ten minutes past eleven asJack Kilmeny took the Utah Junction road out of Goldbanks with hisloaded ore wagon. It was a night of scudding clouds, through whichgleamed occasionally a fugitive moon. The mountain road was steep andnarrow, but both the driver and the mules were used to its every turnand curve. In early days the highgrader had driven a stage along it manya night when he could not have seen the ears of the bronchos.
His destination was the Jack Pot, a mine three miles from town, whereintermittently for months he had been raising worthless rock in the hopeof striking the extension of the Mollie Gibson vein. It was not quitetrue, as Bleyer had intimated, that his lease was merely a blind tocover ore thefts, though undoubtedly he used it for that purposeincidentally.
Bleyer had guessed shrewdly that Kilmeny would drive out to the JackPot, put up in the deserted bunk-house till morning, and then haul theore down to the junction to ship to the smelter on the presumption thatit had been taken from the leased property. This was exactly what Jackhad intended to do. Apparently his purpose was unchanged. He woundsteadily up the hill trail, keeping the animals at a steady pull, exceptfor breathing spells. The miner had been a mule skinner in his time,just as he had tried his hand at a dozen other occupations. In the stillnight the crack of his whip sounded clear as a shot when it hissed abovethe flanks of the leaders without touching them.
He ran into the expected ambush a half mile from the mine, at a pointwhere the road dipped down a wooded slope to a sandy wash.
"Hands up!" ordered a sharp voice.
A horseman loomed up in the darkness beside the wagon. A second appearedfrom the brush. Other figures emerged dimly from the void.
Jack gave his mules the whip and the heavy wagon plowed into the deepsand. Before the wheels had made two revolutions the leaders werestopped. Other men swarmed up the side of the wagon, dragged the driverfrom his seat, and flung him to the ground.
Even though his face was buried in the sand and two men were spread overhis body, the captive was enjoying himself.
"This is no way to treat a man's anatomy--most unladylike conduct I eversaw," he protested.
He was sharply advised to shut up.
After the pressure on his neck was a little relieved, Jack twisted roundenough to see that his captors were all masked.
"What is this game, boys--a hold-up?" he asked.
"Yes. A hold-up of a hold-up," answered one.
Three of the men busied themselves moving the ore sacks from his wagonto another that had been driven out of the brush. A fourth, whom hejudged to be Bleyer, was directing operations, while the fifth menacedhim with a revolver shoved against the small of his back.
The situation would have been a serious one--if it had not happened tobe amusing instead. Kilmeny wanted to laugh at the bustling energy ofthe men, but restrained himself out of respect for what was expected ofhim.
"I'll have the law on you fellows," he threatened, living up to thesituation. "You'd look fine behind the bars, Bleyer."
"All those sacks transferred yet, Tim?" barked the superintendent.
"Yep."
"Good. Hit the trail."
The wagon passed out of the draw toward Goldbanks. For some minutes thesound of the wheels grinding against the disintegrated granite of theroadbed came back to Jack and the two guards who remained with him.
"Hope this will be a lesson to you," said the superintendent presently."Better take warning. Next time you'll go to the pen sure."
"Wait till I get you into court, Bleyer."
"What'll you do there?" jeered the other man. "You'd have a heluvatimeswearing to him and making it stick. You're sewed up tight this time,Jack."
"Am I? Bet you a new hat that by this time to-morrow night you fellowswon't be cracking your lips laughing."
"Take you. Just order the hat left at Goldstein's for the man who callsfor it."
For an hour by the superintendent's watch Kilmeny was held under guard.Then, after warning the highgrader not to return to town beforedaybreak, the two men mounted and rode swiftly away. Jack was alone withhis mules and his empty wagon.
He restrained himself no longer. Mirth pealed in rich laughter from histhroat, doubled him up, shook him until he had to hang on to a wagonwheel for support. At last he wiped tears from his eyes, climbed intothe wagon, and continued on the way to the Jack Pot. At intervals hiswhoop of gayety rang out boyishly on the night breeze. Again he whistledcheerfully. He was in the best of humor with himself and the world. Forhe had played a pretty good joke on Bleyer and Verinder, one they wouldappreciate at its full within a day or two. He would have given a gooddeal to be present when they made a certain discovery. Would Moya smilewhen Verinder told her how the tables had been turned? Or would shethink it merely another instance of his depravity?
The road wound up and down over scarred hillsides and through gorgeswhich cut into the range like sword clefts. From one of these it creptup a stiff slope toward the Jack Pot. One hundred and fifty yards fromthe mine Jack drew up to give the mules a rest.
His lips framed themselves to whistle the first bars of a popular song,but the sound died stillborn. Sharply through the clear night air rang arifle shot.
Jack did not hear it. A bolt of jagged lightning seared through hisbrain. The limp hands of the driver fell away from the reins and he fellto the ground, crumpling as a dry leaf that is crushed in the palm.
From the shadow of the bunk-house two men stole into the moonlightheavily like awkward beasts of prey. They crept stealthily forward,rifles in hand, never once lifting their eyes from the huddled massbeside the wagon.
The first looked stolidly down upon the white face and kicked the bodywith his heavy boot.
"By Goad, Dave, us be quits wi' Jack Kilmeny."
The other--it was Peale, the Cornish miner--had stepped on a spoke ofthe wheel and pulled himself up so that he could look down into the bedof the wagon. Now he broke out with an oath.
"The wagon's empty."
"What!" Trefoyle straightened instantly, then ran to see for himself.For a moment he could not speak for the rage that surged up in him. "Thedommed robber has made fool of us'n," he cried savagely.
In their fury they were like barbarians, cursing impotently the manlying with a white face shining in the moonlight. They had expected topay a debt of vengeance and to win a fortune at the same stroke. Thelatter they had missed. The disappointment of their loss stripped themto stark primeval savagery. It was some time before they could exult intheir revenge.
"He'll interfere wi' us no more--not this side o' hell anyway," Pealecried.
"Not he. An' we'll put him in a fine grave where he'll lie safe."
They threw the body into the wagon and climbed to the seat. Peale drovealong an unused road that deflected from the one running to the JackPot.
The Highgrader Page 19
