Rimrock Jones Page 5

  CHAPTER V

  THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN

  It is an engineer's duty, when he is sent out to examine a mine, tomake a report on the property, regardless. The fact that the owner isa liar and a thief does not necessarily invalidate his claims; and anall-wise Providence has, on several occasions, allowed such creaturesto discover bonanzas. So the engineer hired a team and disappeared onthe horizon and L. W. went off buying cattle.

  A month passed by in which the derelictions of Rimrock were capped bythe machinations of a rival cattle buyer, who beat L. W. out of a buythat would have netted him up into the thousands. Disgusted witheverything, L. W. boarded the west-bound at Bowie Junction and flunghimself into a seat in the half-empty smoker without looking to theright or left. He was mad--mad clear through--and the last of hiscigars was mashed to a pulp in his vest. He had just made thisdiscovery when another cigar was thrust under his nose and a familiarvoice said:

  "Try one of mine!"

  L. W. looked at the cigar, which was undoubtedly expensive, and thenglanced hastily across the aisle. There, smiling sociably, was RimrockJones.

  L. W. squinted his eyes. Yes, Rimrock Jones, in a large, black hat; achecked suit, rather loud, and high boots. His legs were crossed andwith an air of elegant enjoyment he was smoking a similar cigar.

  "Don't want it!" snarled L. W. and, rising up in a fury, he moved offtowards the far end of the car.

  "Oh, all right," observed Rimrock, "I'll smoke it myself, then." AndL. W. grunted contemptuously.

  They rode for some hours across a flat, joyless country without eitherman making a move, but as the train neared Gunsight Rimrock rose up andwent forward to where L. W. sat.

  "Well, what're you all bowed up about?" he enquired bluffly. "Has yourgirl gone back on you, or what?"

  "Go on away!" answered L. W. dangerously, "I don't want to talk to you,you thief!"

  "Oh, that's what's the matter with you--you're thinking about themoney, eh? Well, you always did hate to lose."

  An insulting epithet burst from L. W.'s set lips, but Rimrock let itpass.

  "Oh, that's all right," he said. "Never mind my feelings. Say, howmuch do you figure I owe you?"

  "You don't owe me nothing!" cried L. W. half-rising. "You _stole_ fromme, you scoundrel--I can put you in the Pen for this!"

  "Aw, you wouldn't do that," answered Rimrock easily. "I know you toowell for that."

  "Say, you go away," panted L. W. in a frenzy, "or I'll throw you out ofthis car."

  "No you won't either," said Rimrock truculently. "You'll have to eatsome more beans before you can put _me_ on my back."

  Rimrock squared his great shoulders and his eyes sparkled dangerouslyas he faced L. W. in the aisle.

  "Now listen!" he went on after a tense moment of silence, "what's theuse of making a row? I know I lied to you--I had to do it in order toget the money. I just framed that on purpose so I could get back toNew York where a proposition like mine would be appreciated. I was abum, in Gunsight; but back in New York, where they think in millions,they treated me like a king."

  "I don't want to talk to you," rumbled L. W. moving off, "you lied oncetoo often, and I've _quit_ ye!"

  "All right!" answered Rimrock, "that suits me, too. All I askis--what's the damage?"

  "Thirty-seven hundred and fifty-five dollars," snapped back L. W.venomously, "and I'd sell out for thirty-seven cents."

  "You won't have to," said Rimrock with business directness and flasheda great roll of bills.

  "There's four thousand," he said, peeling off four bills, "you can keepthe change for _pilon_."

  There was one thing about L. W., he was a poker player of renown andaccustomed to thinking quick. He took one look at that roll of billsand waved the money away.

  "Nope! Keep it!" he said. "I don't want your money--just let me in onthis deal."

  "Huh!" grunted Rimrock, "for four thousand dollars? You must thinkI've been played for a sucker. No, four hundred thousand dollarswouldn't give you a look-in on the pot that I've opened this trip."

  "W'y, you lucky fool!" exclaimed L. W. incredulously, his eyes stillglued to the roll. "What's the proposition, Rimmy? Say, you know me,Rim!"

  "Yeh! Sure I do!" answered Rimrock dryly, and L. W. turned from bronzeto a dull red. "I know the whole bunch of you, from the dog robber up,and this time I play my own hand. I was a sucker once, but the onlyfriends I've got now are the ones that stayed with me when I was down."

  "But _I_ helped you, Rim!" cried L. W. appealingly. "Didn't I lend youmoney, time and again?"

  "Yes, and here it is," replied Rimrock indifferently as he held out thefour yellow bills. "You loaned me money, but you treated me likedirt--now take it or I'll ram it down your throat."

  L. W. took the money and stood gnawing his cigar as the train sloweddown for Gunsight.

  "Say, come over to the bank--I want to speak to you," he said as theydropped off the train.

  "Nope, can't stop," answered Rimrock curtly, "got to go and see myfriends."

  He strode off down the street and L. W. followed after him, beckoningfeverishly to every one he met.

  "Say, Rimrock's struck it rich!" he announced behind his hand and theprocession fell in behind.

  Straight down the street Rimrock went to the Alamo where old Hassayampstood shading his eyes, and while the crowd gathered around them hetook Hassayamp's hand and shook it again and again.

  "Here's the best man in town," he began with great feeling. "Anold-time Arizona sport. There never was a time, when I was down andout, that my word wasn't good for the drinks."

  And Hassayamp Hicks, divining some great piece of good fortune, invitedhim in for one more.

  "Here's to Rimrock Jones," he said to the crowd, "the livest boy inthis town."

  They drank and then Rimrock drew out his roll and peeled off animpressive yellow bill.

  "Just take out what I owe you," he said to old Hassayamp, "and let theboys drink up the rest."

  With that he was gone and the crowd, scarce believing, stayed behindand drank to his health. Not a word was said by Rimrock or his friendsas to the source of this sudden wealth. For once in his life RimrockJones was reticent, but the roll of bills spoke for itself. He cameout of Woo Chong's restaurant with a broad grin on his face and lookedabout for the next man he owed.

  "You can talk all you want to," he observed to the onlookers, "but aChink is as white as they make 'em. And any man in this crowd," headded impressively, "that ever loaned me a cent, all he has to do is tostep out and say so and he gets his money back--and then some."

  The crowd surged about, but no one stepped forward. Strange storieswere in the air, resurrected from the past, of Rimrock and the way hepaid. When the Gunsight mine, after many difficulties, began to payback what it had cost, Rimrock had appeared on the street with a roll.And then, as now, he had announced his willingness to pay any bill,good or bad, that he owed. He stood there waiting, with the bills inhis hand, and he paid every man who applied. He even paid men whoslipped in meanly with stories of loans when he was drunk; but he notedthem well and from that day forward they received no favors from him.

  "Ah, there's the very man I'm looking for," exclaimed Rimrock inSpanish as he spied old Juan in the crowd and, striding forward, heheld out his hand and greeted him ceremoniously. Old Juan it was ofwhom he had borrowed the gold ore that had coaxed the two thousanddollars from L. W.--and he had never sent the picked rock back.

  "How are you, Juan?" he enquired politely in the formula that allMexicans love. "And your wife, Rosita? Is she well also? Yes, thankGod, I am well, myself. Where is Rico now? He is a good boy,truly--will you do one more thing for me, Juan?"

  "Si, Si, Senor!" answered Juan deferentially; and Rimrock smiled as hepatted his shoulder.

  "You are a good man, Juan," he said. "A good friend of mine--I willremember it. Now get me an ore-sack--a strong one--like the one thatcontained the picked gold."

  "Un moment
o!" smiled Juan hurrying off towards the store and theMexicans began to swarm to and fro. Some reward, they knew, was to begiven to Juan to compensate him for the loss of his gold. His gold andhis labor and all the unpaid debt that was owing to him and his son andthe rest. The streets began to clatter with flying hoofs as they rodeoff to summon el pueblo, and by the time Old Juan returned with hissack all Mexican town was there.

  "Muy bien," pronounced Rimrock as he inspected the ore-sack, "now comewith me, Amigo!"

  Amigo Juan went, and all his friends after him, to see what El Patronwould do. Something generous and magnificent, they knew very well, forEl Patron was gentleman, muy caballero. He led the way to the bank,still enquiring most solicitously about Juan's relations, his children,his burros and so on; and Juan, sweating like a packed jack under thestress of the excitement, answered courteously, as one should to ElPatron, and clung eagerly to his sack. The crowd entered the bank andas L. W. came out Rimrock placed Juan's sack on the table.

  "Bring out new silver dollars, fresh from the mint," he said, "and fillup this sack for Juan!"

  "Santa Maria!" exclaimed Juan fervently as the cashier came staggeringforth with a sack, and Rimrock took the bag, containing a thousandbulging dollars, and set it down before him. He broke the seal and asthe shining silver burst forth he spilled it in a huge windrow on thetable.

  "Now fill up your ore-sack," he said to Juan, "and all you can stuffinto it is yours."

  "For a gift?" faltered Juan, and as Rimrock nodded he buried his handsin the coin. The dollars clanged and rattled as they spilled on thetable and a great silence came over the crowd. They gazed at Old Juanas if he were an Aladdin, or All Baba in his treasure-cave. Old,gray-bearded Juan who hauled wood for a living, or packed cargas on hisburros for El Patron! Yes, here he was with his fists full of dollars,piling them faster and faster into his bag.

  "Now shake the bag down," suggested El Patron, "and perhaps you can getin some more."

  "Some more?" panted Juan and quite mad with great riches he stuffed thesack to the top.

  "Very well," said Rimrock, "now take them home, and give part of themoney to Rosita. Then take what is left in this other bag and give afiesta to the boys who worked for me."

  "Make way!" cried Juan and as the crowd parted before him he wentstaggering down the street. A few shiny dollars heaped high on thetop, fell off and were picked up by his friends. They went offtogether, Old Juan and his amigos, and L. W. came over to Rimrock.

  "Now listen to me, Henry Jones," he began; but Rimrock waved him away.

  "I don't need to," he said, "I know what you'll say--but Juan there hasbeen my friend."

  "Well, you don't need to spoil him--to break his back with money--whenten dollars will do just as well."

  "Yes, I do!" said Rimrock, "didn't I borrow his picked rock? Well,keep out then; I know my friends. He'll be drunk for a month and atthe end of his fiesta he won't have a dollar to his name, but as longas he lives he can tell the other hombres about that big sack of moneyhe had."

  Rimrock laid down one big bill, which paid for all the dollars, andwalked out of the bank on air. He was feeling rich--that wealthyfeeling that penny-pinchers never know--and all the world, except L. W.Lockhart, seemed responsive to his smile. Men who had shunned him foryears now shook his hand and refused to take back what they had lent.They even claimed they had forgotten all about it or had intended theirloans as stakes. With his pockets full of money it was suddenlyimpossible for Rimrock to spend a dollar. In the Alamo Saloon, wherehis friends were all gathered in a determined assault on the bar, hispopularity was so intense that the drinks fairly jumped at him and heslipped out the back way to escape. There was one duty more--both aduty and a pleasure--and he headed for the Gunsight Hotel.

  The news of his success, whatever it was, had preceded him hoursbefore. Andrew McBain had hid out, the idle women were all a-twitter;but Mary Roget Fortune was calm. She had heard the news from the veryfirst moment, when L. W. had dropped in on McBain; but the more sheheard of his riotous prodigality the more it left her cold. His returnto town reminded her painfully of that other time when he had come.She had watched for him then, her knight from the desert, worn andragged but with his sack full of gold; but he had passed her by withouta word, and now she did not care.

  She looked up sharply as he came at last, a huge form, half-blockingthe door; and Rimrock noticed the change. Perhaps his suddenpopularity had made him unduly sensitive--he felt instinctively thatshe did not approve.

  "Do you mind my cigar?" he asked, stopping awkwardly half way to herdesk; and he suddenly came to life as she answered:

  "Why, yes. Since you ask me, I do."

  That was straight enough and Rimrock cast his fifty-cent cigar like astogie out of the door. Then he came back towards her with his bighead thrust out and a searching look in his eyes. She had greeted himpolitely, but it was not the manner of the girl he had expected to see.Somehow, without knowing why, he had expected her to meet him with adifferent look in her eyes. It had been there before, but now it wasabsent--a look that he liked very much. In fact, he had remembered itand thought, apropos of nothing, that it was a pity she was so deaf.He looked again and smiled very slightly. But no, the look had fled.