The Forbidden Trail Part 54

Roger sighed and scratched his head. "Then why did you come at all?"

"The chief asked us and we knew Charley. She's been kind to me and I wanted to help her out."

"If the whole gang of you would give me just two more days we could finish in good shape," pleaded Roger.

"You can get along," replied Jo. "We've done what we promised."

"Yes, you have, and a bully job. But--well, I'm floored. I just can't get your point of view." Roger's voice was rueful.

Jo laughed. "And we can't get yours."

There was an extra good supper that night and formal thanks on the part of Charley. Then, in the moonlight, the whole picturesque caravan moved off up the mountain trail.

Charley, returning to the living room, said, "Well, children, I'm cheerful in spite of the fact that there's not two days' food left in the house."

"I've got a little credit still at Hackett's," said Roger. "I think Gustav had better go in to Archer's in the morning. I think my freight must be there from the Dean and we should be hearing from Ernest."

d.i.c.k, smoking in the doorway, nodded, then repeated the remark that he had made on the average of once an hour ever since Friday. "There isn't a well like mine in a radius of a hundred miles."

Gustav brought back two weeks' food supply, the freight from the Dean and letters from Ernest. They were very noncommittal but cheerful. He had cleared up the misunderstanding with the Smithsonian Inst.i.tution, but as yet had no money and did not know when he could get back.

"Well," said Roger, "we've got grub for a week or so. I'm not quite sure whose grub it is. These two camps seem to me to have become helplessly entangled."

"Who cares!" said Elsa.

"Not you, young woman," returned Charley, dryly. She still seemed indifferent to d.i.c.k but there was no mistaking her warm enthusiasm over Elsa as a sister.

"I'm going to cut the first five acres to-morrow," said d.i.c.k. "That will solve the most pressing problems. The second field is dead. I'm going to plow it under. But I should worry. That's the best well in a radius of a hundred miles."

"Well, I'll a.s.semble my engine." Roger tamped down the tobacco in his pipe. "The Lord send that it goes together right."

"Amen to that," said Charley, while the others nodded.

Another two weeks pa.s.sed in unremitting industry, but by the second Sat.u.r.day night, Roger with a sigh of unutterable satisfaction announced himself ready for a test of the plant on Monday. It was mid-September now, and it seemed as if the heat were a little less intense. The nights, at any rate, were not so parching. In spite of the sadness that would not lift, the little community was experiencing some of the contentment that comes from hard work and sympathetic companions.h.i.+p.

Roger was finding that the regular, well cooked meals and the home life of the adobe was making a great difference in his mental as well as his physical condition. In spite of the nerve strain of the past months, he was beginning to feel that life never had been so much worth while as now.

On the Sunday afternoon before the test of the rebuilt plant, Ernest, driven by Hackett, jogged up to the corral.

After the noisy and excited greetings and after Ernest's delight over the moving of the plant had been expressed, Ernest slapped Roger on the back. They all were talking at once, on the adobe porch.

"Here, put your eye on that, you emaciated desert blister!"

Ernest pulled a bill case carefully from his inner breast pocket and carefully extracted a check which he handed to Roger. It was for five thousand dollars. Roger stared at it stupidly.

"Browning! Who on earth is he?" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Smithsonian! I had the check made out to me. It was simpler. But I'm going to make it payable to you, right now."

He sat down at the table, pulled out his fountain pen and, signing the check, handed it over to Roger. The room was silent for a moment then, "Ernest," faltered Roger, his thin tanned face working. "I can't tell you--why old man, if I'd had a brother he couldn't have done for me what you have done. It's wonderful! How did you do it, Ern?"

Ernest beamed. "There's more where that came from. They're crazy about your whole scheme."

Roger stood staring at his friend, lost in admiration. "You are a genius, Ernest! Your talents as a salesman are lost on a college professor."

"Don't you think it! When I'm made President of the University, it will be because of my talents as a salesman."

Everybody laughed. "Ernest, do tell us how you did it," urged Elsa.

"Wait a minute!" cried Roger. "What shall I do with the check?" holding it as if it were alive and dangerous to the touch.

"Put it in your pocket, you chump! Then have a talk with Hackett. He has a connection with a bank at Los Angeles and he does a lot of banking for the miners south of Archer's Springs. He'll take care of it for you."

"I can't carry it in the pocket of my s.h.i.+rt, I perspire so!" protested Roger. "Why not s.h.i.+ft it to Hackett right now?"

"So be it!" returned Ernest, wearily. "Must I hold your hand while you do it! Say, did you move my clothes up here?"

"Our living tent is just the other side of the old tool house," replied Roger. "Come along, old man, and get rid of your store clothes. You look like a tenderfoot."

"Farewell to decency again!" groaned Ernest.

"When you come back, supper will be ready," called Elsa.

Hackett was sitting in the shade of the engine house and Roger reached an understanding with him very quickly. He undertook to act not only as Roger's banker but as his purchasing agent as well, and Roger undertook to furnish him with a list of tools and machinery before his return to Archer's Springs at dawn.

Gustav was waiting impatiently during the interview, and when Roger said with a sigh:

"Well, I guess that covers everything, Mr. Hackett," Gustav put in quickly:

"Did Ernest tell you there is var in Europe. The Vaterland, England, France, Belgium. Mein Gott, you should see the papers they brought."

"Good heavens! War! You don't mean it! Not a real one," cried Roger.

"Yes, more or less real! Of course, Germany will be in Paris any time now, and that will end it," said Ernest.

"But what is it all about? War! I can't believe it." Roger looked over the breathless, s.h.i.+mmering desert to the far calm blue of the River Range.

"n.o.body knows exactly who started it or why," said Hackett. "Looks to me though as if Germany was trying to hog Belgium."

"Belgium deserves to be hogged," exclaimed Ernest, who had changed his clothes, "after her Congo history."

"But if it is var, I must get back to the Vaterland," cried Gustav.

"Oh, as to that," returned Ernest, "I saw Werner in New York and he said for you to stay here till you heard from him. He plans to be down this way, this fall."

Gustav grinned. "That vas good. I don't vant to go, sure."

"Were you in New York?" asked Roger vaguely. "War in Europe! I can't realize it."