Part 19 (1/2)

Sure enough, Hiram came presently and asked her, as a special favor to him, to let him have what money was owing to him.

”Hiram,” she said, ”you're going to lend it to Tweet, and he's going out in the auto stage to-night.”

”I know it,” said Hiram. ”I got to help him. He's been a pretty good friend to me, Jo, and--and--I just like him. Why, if it hadn't been for him I'd never met you.”

Jo colored and looked away. ”You big, simple-hearted boy!” she cried.

”Do you know what he is going to do?”

”No--he won't talk.”

She was thoughtful a little, then took out a purse and handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

”Kiss it good-by,” she said; ”but I suppose the experience will be worth something to you.”

”Thank you,” said Hiram, very red of face. ”I'm sorry for what I said about you meetin' me through Tweet, Jo. I meant to say, o' course, that if it hadn't been for Tweet I'd never got the job.”

”Oh,” said Jo, straight-lipped, ”I understand.”

Tweet was not with the outfit when it pitched camp close by for the night. He sat in the automobile stage instead, and waved a friendly good-by to them. ”Bread on the water, Hiram, comes back chocolate cake!” he cried. ”That is, Tweet bread does. Ha-ha, Hiram! You been mighty good to me, folks. So long for a time!”

CHAPTER XVI

TEHACHAPI HANK

Toward the middle of the following afternoon Jerkline Jo's freight outfit, minus the diverting Mr. Tweet of the twisted nose, was wending its way empty back toward the distant mountains, hauling the necessary water in the tank wagon.

They were still ten miles from the mouth of the mountain pa.s.s when they went into camp on the desert for the night. When they started next morning the tank wagon was taken on a way and left, for, with the lake at the highest point of the pa.s.s, and the artesian water at the desert ranch on the other side, they would be well supplied for the remainder of the trip.

Before noon they were entering the pa.s.s and moving up the steep ascent into cooler atmosphere, and light, invigorating air, scented with the breath of pines and junipers.

Hiram Hooker was lazing on his high seat, dreaming and watching his leaders, when from behind came the familiar call:

”Who-hoo!”

He turned his face back toward the mistress of the ten gigantic whites.

”Who repaired the road back there?” she shouted.

”I don't know,” Hiram called back. ”I can't remember that we stopped there.”

”We didn't. Some one else has done that. Keep your eyes open, Gentle Wild Cat.”

Hiram did this, and presently began to see ruts had been filled in repeatedly and the marks left by boulders that had been snaked to the edge of the precipice and allowed to thunder down a canon.

This continued all the way to the summit, where they camped for a late nooning beside the mountain lake.

When they took up the journey again, and had reached a point half a mile beyond the lake, came upon a lone touring car and a little camp.

Frequently now Hiram looked back, to see perplexity and worry on the usually placid brow of Jerkline Jo. A half mile beyond the camp they found seven men working with ax and pick and shovel, repairing the road.