Part 20 (2/2)
Jo gasped, and turned and glanced helplessly over her little army of loyal men.
”By whose authority are you demanding this?” She spun back to the toll master, her dark eyes now aflame.
”Mr. Al Drummond he's the boss, ma'am. He's from Friscotown. He's gotta keep up the road, so o' course he's gonta charge other folks to travel on it. It's jest like as if it was his private prop'ty, as I savvy the deal, ma'am. I got papers to show ye, if ye wanta see 'em.
Course I got nothin' to do with it--nothin' atall. Mr. Drummond he jest hired me to collect the fees and keep folks off that refused to pay. I might add, though, ma'am, that I've always been considered a pretty good keeper-off when I'm hired for that purpose. I'm from the Kitchen Rancho, over toward the Tehachapi. They call me Tehachapi Hank. At yer service, ma'am.”
Jerkline Jo's red lips were straight. She was indignant. A sense of defeat almost overwhelmed her. Such a situation had not even remotely occurred to her. In a wave of despair the realization swept over her that she had attempted something of which she knew nothing. There had been no one to advise her, and in the unbounded confidence of youth she had not sought counsel. On the railroad grade few men could have put anything over on her. But this was another matter.
Fifty-six dollars for the eighteen-mile trip through the pa.s.s! It would be ruinous. She would be obliged to advance her rate to meet this additional expense, and then the truckman holding the franchise would be able to haul freight cheaper than she could.
Back of her the men were muttering useless threats among themselves.
Jo found her voice at last. There was no need to ask to see a copy of the franchise, because there was not the slightest doubt in her mind that everything was aboveboard in that respect. She simply had been outgeneraled. There was nothing to do but to pay--for the present, at least--as the freight on her wagons must be delivered at any cost, now that she had contracted to deliver it. What she said was:
”Will you accept my check?”
”Certainly, ma'am--most certain,” was the ready reply.
”I'll go back to my wagon and write one for you then,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. ”Let the wagons go on, please. When mine reaches you I'll hand out the check.”
Tehachapi Hank touched his broad-brimmed hat again. ”All right and proper, ma'am,” he a.s.sured her.
He was waiting by the roadside when her stanch whites marched past him, and she reached the check out through the slats of the rack. He touched his hat brim again and smiled then with true Western politeness, pocketed the slip of paper without so much as glancing at it.
Dully she watched the broad straining backs of her beloved animals as they planted their great fetlocked feet and heaved their burden ever upward. Ahead of them she could hear her skinners shouting back and forth from wagon to wagon above the jingling of the bells, their tones high-pitched and angry. Why had she not consulted with Demarest and asked him to lay before her details of every angle that might present itself in such an undertaking as hers?
Demarest knew all the twists and turns of modern business ruthlessness.
He might have been able to foresee a situation like this and to put weapons into her hands with which she might have combated it.
She shrugged her st.u.r.dy shoulders finally, and as noon was close at hand gave attention to her cooking. For the present she would drive the matter from her thoughts. There was work to be accomplished, which was a part of the present delivery of freight. When this task was completed she would see what could be done.
CHAPTER XVII
IN LETTERS OF BLACK
There was a general outburst of indignation on the part of Jerkline Jo's devoted retainers when the outfit went into camp at noon, quarterway through the mountain pa.s.s.
”We'll fix 'im, Jo!” Heine Schultz exclaimed angrily. ”All we gotta do is make out to get ahead o' his old cough wagons and not let 'em pa.s.s.
We can hold 'im back clear through the pa.s.s, if we string out. Le's figger it out fer the rest o' the trip, Jo. There's not over six places where one vehicle can pa.s.s another. Now what we gotta do is string out our outfit so's none o' us'll hit one o' those places when the machines are comin'. Say, we can hold 'em up till----”
”Heine,” said Jerkline Jo quietly, ”is that your idea of business.”
”Course it is. Stick it to the Al Drummond, Jo! He's started somethin' that he'll have a hard time finis.h.i.+n', that's all. Say, we can slip it to him till he'll be sick o' that dirty deal he handed you.
Leave it to Blink and me. We got it all schemed out.”
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