Part 12 (1/2)
In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and Bessie and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the stirring industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope.
Virginia joined them.
”Isn't it a shame!” she said. ”Of course, I want our side to win; but it seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly.”
Calvert said, ”Isn't what a shame?” thereby eliciting a crisp explanation from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion in the light of fact.
The Reverend Billy shook his head.
”Such things may be within the law--of business; but they will surely breed bad blood--”
The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out fiercely to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the three at the window fell silent.
There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions to his posse.
”Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns to the front! Steady!”
The Reverend Billy rose.
”What are you going to do?” said Virginia.
”I'm going to give Winton a tip if it's the last thing I ever do.”
She shook her head and pointed eastward to the mouth of the lateral gulch. Under cover of a clump of evergreen-scrub a man in a wideflapped hat and leather breeches was climbing swiftly to the level of the new line, cautiously waving a handkerchief as a peace token.
”That is the man who arrested Mr. Winton yesterday. This time he is going to fight on the other side. He'll carry the warning.”
”Think so?” said Calvert.
”I am sure of it. Open the window, please. I want to see better.”
As yet there was no sign of preparation on the embankment. For the moment the rifles of the track force were laid aside, and every man was plying pick or shovel.
Winton was in the thick of the pick-and-shovel melee, urging it on, when Biggin ran up.
”Hi!” he shouted. ”Fixin' to take another play-day in Carbonate?
Lookee down yonder!”
Winton looked and became alive to the possibilities in the turning of a leaf.
”Guns!” he yelled; and at the word of command the tools were flung aside, and the track force, over two hundred strong, became an army.
”Mulcahey, take half the men and go up the grade till you can rake those fellows without hitting the car. Branagan, you take the other half and go down till you can cross-fire with Mulcahey. Aim low, both of you; and the man who fires before he gets the word from me will break his neck at a rope's end. Fall in!”
”By Jove!” said Adams. ”Are you going to resist? That spells felony, doesn't it?”
Winton pointed to the waiting octopod.
”I'm going to order the Two-fifteen down out of the way: you may go with her if you like.”
”I guess not!” quoth the a.s.sistant, calmly lighting a fresh cigarette.