Part 23 (1/2)
There followed a bantering conversation on the relative merits of the various teams, with minute explanation by the foremost skinners as to just why it was impossible for such miserable animals as the whites and the blacks to keep in sight of the rest. And for the time being, this ended the incident.
They left the delicately scented mountain country in due course and took up the long, weary journey over the desert. When they were near enough to the b.u.t.tes to make out objects at their feet it became plain to all that the big outfit of Demarest, Spruce & Tillou had arrived and pitched its camp.
Shortly after they became aware of this a machine was discovered coming toward them from the distant tents. Then another put in an appearance, following the first. Jo now heard the cough of motors behind her, and, looking back, saw two trucks.
The first machine coming from the camps swung from the road when it neared Blink Keddie and waited, panting, until the outfit had pa.s.sed it. Only the driver was in it, a man Jerkline Jo had never before seen. He lifted his hat politely as her whites rolled past, and she thanked him for his patience. Then he moved his car into the road and continued on toward the trucks. Looking back, Jo saw that all three stopped when they came together.
Now, from ahead, came the second car, and at the wheel sat Twitter-or-Tweet. He signaled Keddie to stop, and the outfit came to a halt.
”h.e.l.lo, Jo, and fellas!” cried the beaming Mr. Tweet, descending from his car. ”The man who just pa.s.sed you in the touring car is Mr.
Richard Huber, one of our first citizens. He's Ragtown's first merchant. He's gone to direct the trucks to come to Greater Ragtown with their loads. For, folks, Ragtown is moving in a body, with its traps on burros' and men's backs and in wagons and flivvers to the Tweet-to-be. Talked Huber out o' leasing, and sold him fifteen town lots, by golly! Half down, balance in three years--seven and a half per cent interest on deferred payments. Man of discernment. I'll proclaim to the high, green mountains! I'm on my way to collect our fee for allowin' the trucks to cross Paloma Rancho. How much you been held up for, Jo?”
”One hundred and twelve dollars,” she told him.
”Just a minute. I'll hand it to you. Move on now, and I'll get back in the road and collect.”
CHAPTER XIX
WHAT MADE THE WILD CAT
Jerkline Jo's wagon train snailed on over the desert toward the tents of Demarest's big camp. The tires of Mr. Tweet's s.h.i.+ny new car plunked down into the road, and that gentleman continued on toward the trucks and the machine of Ragtown's first merchant, Mr. Huber.
Hiram Hooker was riding with Jerkline Jo, and the two had been deep in their studies when the appearance of the various automobiles had distracted their attention. Hiram now climbed to the top of Jo's immense load of baled alfalfa, and, looking back, made reports to her.
”They're all together now,” he said, ”and having quite an argument.
Tweet's swinging his arms about as if he wanted to fight.
”Now he's getting into his car. He and the storekeeper are turning in ahead of the trucks. Here they all come, Tweet in the lead!”
A little later Tweet shouted to Hiram to stop, and Hiram relayed the command to Jo, who called to her ten whites and brought them to a standstill. A little later five angry men hurried on foot alongside the wagon.
”Here's your hundred and twelve dollars, Jo,” Tweet said exultantly, pa.s.sing the girl a sheaf of bills, ”And that settles that. Now, Mr.
Drummond, step over here and be introduced to Jerkline Jo Modock and my friend Hiram Hooker, from Wild-cat Hill. We'll see if you folks can't get together and conduct your affairs amicably.”
Al Drummond, Hiram Hooker's one-time rival, was indeed there, dressed after the fas.h.i.+on of Mr. Tweet, and looking big and important and business-like. There was a dark scowl on his brow though as he came forward and nodded to Jo, but did not offer his hand.
”Well, I've been held up,” he muttered, ”and I'm going to see about it, but----”
”See about it all you want to, my friend,” put in Tweet smoothly. ”I have complete control of this land, and have the sole right to say who shall cross it and who shall not, and under what conditions. The ranch is posted, and everything is in order. This road is a new one, and you can't make the claim that it has been used so long that it must be considered in the nature of a public highway. You've not a leg to stand on; so every time you turn a wheel on this property it's goin' to cost you just what the last trip through the pa.s.s cost Jerkline Jo.
You started something, my friend, and you can't finish it--that's all.
Take your medicine like a sport.”
”I'm going to keep up that mountain road, and I'm going to charge to move vehicles and teams over it,” replied Drummond angrily. ”My operations are legitimate. Yours are a holdup.”
”Suit yourself.” Tweet shrugged indifferently. ”But, as I pointed out, you'll pay back every cent you collect from Jo. And, besides, you'll be out the expenses of your toll master.”
”Others besides this lady will be crossing--lots of them later on,”
said Drummond. ”I'm not going to keep that road in condition for the general public free of charge.”