CHAPTER XI
For the time being the excitement was high in the gambler's shack and Mark thought that somebody would surely be shot. The men present affirmed that they had lost about a thousand dollars between them, whereas Sag Ruff had only nine hundred dollars on hand with which to make a settlement.
"Where is the rest of the money?" demanded one man.
"Lost it," answered the gambler. "Fellow named Hi Wilson got it from me."
"I reckon that's right," said another. "He played with Hi night before last and Hi went off with over three hundred dollars. He was too sharp-eyed for this rascal."
"I'll fix this," said Maybe Dixon. "He owes us one thousand. Nine hundred is a thousand with ten per cent. off, as the schoolmasters say. Everybody gits wot is comin' to him less ten per cent. Ain't I right, Perfesser?" The last to a man who had once taught in Yale College, and who was now as eager to hunt gold as anybody.
"That is correct," answered the professor, with a nod of his bald head.
"Make the Perfesser the bookkeeper," said another man, and this was done, and in a very few minutes the money was divided in the proper ratio. During the proceedings the gambler looked glum. He gave Mark a savage glance.
"I'll remember you, sonny!" he hissed, in a low tone.
"I'll remember you too," answered Mark, but the gambler's remark caused him to shiver. He knew that Sag Ruff was angry enough to kill him if given the opportunity.
It was after midnight, yet the camp was alive with people. The news had spread that somebody had exposed a swindler, and a crowd began to collect. Sag Ruff wanted to run away, but Maybe Dixon and some of the others would not let him go.
"We are not done with you," said one man.
"Why not? I've given up all I've got," growled the swindler.
"We are going to teach you a lesson," said another.
"Ride him on a rail!"
"Duck him in the river!"
These and several other suggestions rang out. Torches were procured, and in a few minutes one man found a long tent pole, which answered very well for a rail. Sag Ruff was hoisted on this and marched through the camp. Then he was taken to a pond filled with dirty water and tumbled in head first.
"Now don't show your face on this trail again!" shouted several.
"If you do you'll be shot!" added several others.
Filled with rage and fear, Sag Ruff dragged himself from the pond and hurried out of sight behind a nearby row of tents. As he went on he had to pass the outfit belonging to our friends. He caught sight of Mark just going into the tent.
"Look here, sonny!" he hissed, in a voice full of hate and bitterness. "I shan't forget you, and some day I'll square up! Don't forget, I'll square up!" And then the darkness of the night swallowed up his form.
"Who is there?" asked Si, rousing up in his sleep.
"It is all right, Si, I'm just getting back."
"Oh, all right, Mark. Did you see anything worth seeing?"
"I did—and I saved Maybe Dixon some money. But I guess I've made a bitter enemy and one who is bound to do me an injury if he possibly can."
"I thought I heard some shouting," said the country boy, as he sat up in the darkness. "What was it all about?"
"I'll tell you in the morning. No use of waking Bob. I know he is tired," answered Mark, and then he turned in beside his chums. But it was all of an hour before he could get to sleep, and then he dreamed that he was out in a shower of playing cards and Sag Ruff was pursuing him with a big butcher knife. He awoke with a start, to find himself bathed from head to feet in a cold perspiration.
In the morning he told his two friends the particulars of what had occurred. He was just finishing the recital when Maybe Dixon hove into sight, with a broad smile on his rather leathery features.
"This is the boy as done it!" he cried, slapping Mark on the back. "Showed up the meanest swindler this camp ever struck."
"Where is Sag Ruff?" asked Mark.
"Gone,—an' he won't dare show his face on this trail ag'in, to my way o' thinkin'."
"I am sure I don't want to see him again."
"He'll turn up some day, when you least expect it," said Bob, and told the truth, as later events proved.
"Mark, I owe ye something for saving my money," went on Dixon.
"I don't want anything," was the prompt answer.
"The boys got together after the rail-ridin' an' duckin' was over," went on Maybe Dixon. "They made up a purse. Here it is—and you've got to take it."
Dixon handed over the "purse," which proved to be a red bandana handkerchief. Inside was a card on which were written the names of sixteen men who had contributed to the fund. With the card was sixty dollars, in bills and silver.
"You've got to keep it," said the man "from everywhere." "If ye don't the boys will be mad."
"All right, I'll keep it, then," said Mark. "I am very much obliged and I'll tell them so, when I meet them." And he kept his word. The sixty dollars came in very handy, for funds all around were running low again.
Sunday was spent at Fort Laramie, and bright and early Monday morning they took again to the trail, which now led across some broad stretches of prairie lands, dotted here and there with clumps of trees and bushes. Soon they were along the Platte once again, and then they left the immediate vicinity of the river and took to the dry bed of a stream which had once been a good-sized body of water. By Wednesday they were again ascending a ridge.
"We'll be getting to the foothills soon," said Mark. "Then is when the real climbing will begin."
"Not to say anything about when we reach the real mountains," put in Bob. "They say some of the spots are fearful."
"The question is, are we going through this fall or are we going to wait until next spring?" came from Si. "We've got to do one thing or tudder."
"Oh, don't let us wait," said Mark, impatiently.
"I don't know as we can afford to wait," added the former sailor boy. "We haven't any too much money, and if we remain here all winter we'll be stranded in the spring, so far as money is concerned."
The boys talked it over several nights, while seated around the campfire. They learned that Socket was going through without delay, and also several other emigrants with families.
"If those fellows can get through with women and children we ought to be able to get through," said Mark.
"Maybe they won't get through," said Maybe Dixon, who was present. "More'n one pusson has lost his life on a mountain trail in snowy weather."
"I know that," answered Bob. "But I, for one, am pretty tough. When I was whaling I was often out in the north seas in a blinding snowstorm and always got back to the ship in safety."
"All the same, I reckon a howling snowstorm in the mountains is not to be sneezed at," said Si, with a shake of his head.
There was a general pause.
"Do we go, or don't we?" asked Mark, boldly. "I say go on."
"So do I."
"We'll risk it."
And so it was decided. Maybe Dixon said he would accompany them, and made out a list of what he thought they ought to take along on the long and perilous climb over the Rockies.
The roads so far had been fair, but now they often struck barren spots and places where it was next to impossible to get good water.
"Gosh, how this smells!" exclaimed Si, on getting a drink one afternoon at a spring.
"There is sulphur in that water, and also magnesia," answered Mark.
"Will it hurt one to drink it?"
"I think not—but I wouldn't drink too much."
The next day they came to another spring, this time of good, cold water. Over the spring was a rude board on which were the words:
Drink Your Fill Here!Thirty-two Miles to the Next Good Water!
"There's a warning for all," said Si. "I am going to get all I want."
"Yes, and we'll give Darling a good drink too," added Bob.
They filled their water jug, and also the three pails and kettles they carried. To keep the water from slopping from the pails and kettles they covered the vessels with canvas, tied around with strings.
The next day came traveling of the worst kind. The trail was more barren than ever and the hot sun poured down upon them mercilessly. Not a tree of any kind was in sight, sage was on every side, dotting the sand but offering no fodder for the cattle. Even Darling would not look at the sage. He plodded along with his ears laid back and his head bobbing wearily.
That night they did not build a fire but simply lay down to rest in the open, eating a cold and rather dry supper. They kept the last of the water until morning, and even then saved a few swallows of the precious liquid.
"We'd be pretty bad off if we didn't strike that spring," said Mark. "Think of going a whole day without water!"
"Or two days—in this heat," put in Si. "It's enough to drive one crazy."
Slowly they went on, with a great cavalcade in front and behind them. Noon came and went and the boys calculated that they were still four miles from the spring.
"Never mind, we'll reach it inside of two hours," said Maybe Dixon, hopefully. "But even so, I'd give a dollar this minit fer a good glass o' cold drinkin' water."
"Don't mention it," said Mark. "You make me more thirsty than ever."
On and on they went, until they calculated they must be within half a mile of the precious spring. Then, of a sudden, they heard a commotion ahead of them.
"Something is wrong sure!" cried Bob, and brought Darling to a halt.
There was a cry, taken up by the pioneers one after another, a cry that made the hearts of the three boys sink like lead in their bosoms:
"The spring ahead has gone dry! There isn't a drop of water for any of us!"