A Deal in Wheat and Other Stories of the New and Old West, Page 3

  A BARGAIN WITH PEG-LEG

  "Hey, youse!" shouted the car-boy. He brought his trundling, jolting,loose-jointed car to a halt by the face of the drift. "Hey, youse!" heshouted again.

  Bunt shut off the Burly air-drill and nodded.

  "Chaw," he remarked to me.

  We clambered into the car, and, as the boy released the brake, rolledout into the main tunnel of the Big Dipple, and banged and bumped downthe long incline that led to the mouth.

  "Chaw" was dinner. It was one o'clock in the morning, and the men on thenight shift were taking their midnight spell off. Bunt was back at hisold occupation of miner, and I--the one loafer of all that little worldof workers--had brought him a bottle of beer to go with the "chaw"; forBunt and I were ancient friends.

  As we emerged from the cool, cave-like dampness of the mine and ran outinto the wonderful night air of the Sierra foothills, warm, dry,redolent of witch-hazel, the carboy began to cough, and, after we hadclimbed out of the car and had sat down on the embankment to eat anddrink, Bunt observed:

  "D'ye hear that bark? That kid's a one-lunger for fair. Which ain't nosalubrious graft for him--this hiking cars about in the bowels of theearth, Some day he'll sure up an' quit. Ought to go down to Yuma aspell."

  The engineer in the mill was starting the stamps. They got under waywith broken, hiccoughing dislocations, bumping and stumbling like thehoofs of a group of horses on the cattle-deck in a gale. Then theyjumped to a trot, then to a canter, and at last settled down to theprolonged roaring gallop that reverberated far off over the entirecanyon.

  "I knew a one-lunger once," Bunt continued, as he uncorked the bottle,"and the acquaintance was some distressful by reason of its bringing meinto strained relations with a cow-rustlin', hair-liftin',only-one-born-in-captivity, man-eatin' brute of a one-legged Greaserwhich he was named Peg-leg Smith. He was shy a leg because of a shotgunthat the other man thought wasn't loaded. And this here happens, lemmetell you, 'way down in the Panamint country, where they wasn't no doctorwithin twenty miles, and Peg-leg outs with his bowie and amputates thatleg hisself, then later makes a wood stump outa a ole halter and atable-leg. I guess the whole jing-bang of it turned his head, for hegoes bad and loco thereafter, and begins shootin' and r'arin' up an'down the hull Southwest, a-roarin' and a-bellerin' and a-takin' onamazin'. We dasn't say boo to a yaller pup while he's round. I never seesuch mean blood. Jus' let the boys know that Peg-leg was anywaysadjacent an' you can gamble they walked chalk.

  "Y'see, this Peg-leg lay it out as how he couldn't abide no cussin' an'swearin'. He said if there was any tall talkin' done he wanted to do it.And he sure could. I've seed him hold on for six minutes by the watchan' never repeat hisself once. An' shoot! Say, lemme tell you he did fortwo Greasers once in a barroom at La Paz, one in front o' him, t'otherstraight behind, _him_ standing between with a gun in each hand, andshootin' both guns _at the same time_. Well, he was just a terror,"declared Bunt, solemnly, "and when he was in real good form there wa'n'ta man south o' Leadville dared to call his hand.

  "Now, the way I met up with this skunkin' little dewdrop was this-likeIt was at Yuma, at a time when I was a kid of about nineteen. It was aSunday mornin'; Peg-leg was in town. He was asleep on a lounge in theback room o' Bud Overick's Grand Transcontinental Hotel. (I used toguess Bud called it that by reason that it wa'n't grand, nortranscontinental, nor yet a hotel--it was a bar.) This was twenty yearago, and in those days I knowed a one-lunger in Yuma named Clarence. (Hecouldn't help that--he was a good kid--but his name _was_ Clarence.) Wegot along first-rate. Yuma was a great consumptive place at that time.They used to come in on every train; yes, and go out, too--by freight.

  "Well, findin' that they couldn't do much else than jes' sit around an'bark and keep their shawls tight, these 'ere chaps kinda drew together,and lay it out to meet every Sunday morning at Bud's to sorta talk itover and have a quiet game. One game they had that they played steady,an' when I drifted into Bud's that morning they was about a dozen of 'emat it--Clarence, too. When I came in, there they be, all sittin' in acircle round a table with a cigar box on it. They'd each put four bitsinto the box. That was the pot.

  "A stranger wouldn't 'a' made nothin' very excitin' out of that game,nor yet would 'a' caught on to what it were. For them pore yaps jes' satthere, each with his little glass thermometer in his mouth, a-waitin'and a-waitin' and never sayin' a word. Then bime-by Bud, who's a-holdin'of the watch on 'em, sings out 'Time!' an' they all takes theirthermometers out an' looks at 'em careful-like to see where they stand.

  "'Mine's ninety-nine,' says one.

  "An' another says:

  "'Mine's a hundred.'

  "An' Clarence pipes up--coughin' all the time:

  "'Mine's a hundred 'n one 'n 'alf.'

  "An', no one havin' a higher tempriture than that, Clarence captures thepot. It was a queer kind o' game.

  "Well, on that particular Sunday morning they's some unpleasantnessalong o' one o' the other one-lungers layin' it out as how Clarence haddone some monkey-business to make his tempriture so high. It was said ashow Clarence had took and drunk some hot tea afore comin' into the gameat Bud's. They all began to discuss that same p'int.

  "Naturally, they don't go at it polite, and to make their remarksp'inted they says a cuss-word occasional, and Clarence, bein' ahigh-steppin' gent as takes nobody's dust, slings it back some forceful.

  "Then all at once they hears Peg-leg beller from where's he layin' onthe lounge (they ain't figured on his bein' so contiguous), and he givesit to be understood, does Peg-leg, as how the next one-lunger thatindulges in whatsoever profanity will lose his voice abrupt.

  "They all drops out at that, bar the chap who had the next highesttempriture to Clarence. Him having missed the pot by only a degree or sois considerable sore.

  "'Why,' says he, 'I've had a reg'lar _fever_ since yesterday afternoon,an' only just dodged a hem'rage by a squeak. I'm all legitimate, I am;an' if you-alls misdoubts as how my tempriture ain't normal you kin jes'ask the doctor. I don't take it easy that a strappin', healthy gesabewhose case ain't nowheres near the hopeless p'int yet steps in here witha scalded mouth and plays it low.'

  "Clarence he r'ars right up at that an' forgits about Peg-leg an'expresses doubts, not to say convictions, about the one-lunger's chancesof salvation. He puts it all into about three words, an' just as quickas look at it we hears ol' Peg-leg's wooden stump a-comin'. We stampedesconsiderable prompt, but Clarence falls over a chair, an' before he kinget up Peg-leg has him by the windpipe.

  "Now I ain't billin' myself as a all-round star hero an' generalgrand-stand man. But I was sure took with Clarence, an' I'd 'a' beenreal disappointed if Peg-leg 'ud a-killed him that morning--which hesure was tryin' to do when I came in for a few chips.

  "I don' draw on Peg-leg, him being down on his knees over Clarence, an'his back turned, but without sensin' very much _what_ I'm a-doin' of Igrabs holt o' the first part o' Peg-leg that comes handy, which, so helpme, Bob, is his old wooden leg. I starts to pull him off o' Clarence,but instead o' that I pulls off the wooden leg an' goes a-staggerin'back agin the wall with the thing in my fist.

  "Y'know how it is now with a fightin' pup if you pull his tail whilehe's a-chawin' up the other pup. Ye can bat him over the head tillyou're tired, or kick him till you w'ars your boot out, an' he'll goright on chawin' the harder. But monkey with his tail an' he's thatsensitive an' techy about it that he'll take a interest right off.

  "Well, it were just so with Peg-leg--though I never knew it. Just byaccident I'd laid holt of him where he was tender; an' when he felt thatleg go--say, lemme tell you, he was some excited. He forgits all aboutClarence, and he lines out for me, a-clawin' the air. Lucky he'd lefthis gun in the other room.

  "Well, sir, y'ought to have seen him, a-hoppin' on one foot, and bangingagin the furniture, jes' naturally black in the face with rage, an'doin' his darnedest to lay his hands on me, roarin' all the whiles likea steer with a kinked tail.

  "Well, I'm skeere
d, and I remarks that same without shame. I'm skeered.I don't want to come to no grapples with Peg-leg in his wrath, an' Iknows that so long as he can't git his leg he can't take after me veryfast. Bud's saloon backs right up agin the bluff over the river. So whatdo I do but heave that same wooden leg through one o' the back windows,an' down she goes (as I _thought_) mebbe seventy feet into the canyon o'the Colorado? And then, mister man, _I skins out--fast_.

  "I takes me headlong flight by way o' the back room and _on-root_pitches Peg-leg's gun over into the canyon, too, an' then whips aroundthe corner of the saloon an' fetches out ag'in by the street in front.With his gun gone an' his leg gone, Peg-leg--so long's y'ain't withinarm's reach--is as harmless as a horned toad. So I kinda hangs 'roundthe neighbourhood jes' to see what-all mout turn up.

  "Peg-leg, after hoppin' back to find that his gun was gone, to look forhis leg, comes out by the front door, hoppin' from one chair to another,an' seein' me standin' there across the street makes remarks; an' heinforms me that because of this same little turn-up this mornin' I ain'tnever goin' to live to grow hair on my face. His observations are thatvigorous an' p'inted that I sure begin to see it that way, too, and Isays to myself:

  "'Now you, Bunt McBride, you've cut it out for yourself good and hard,an' the rest o' your life ain't goin' to be free from nervousness.Either y'ought to 'a' let this here hell-roarin' maverick alone or elseyou should 'a' put him clean out o' business when you had holt o' hisshootin'-iron. An' I ain't a bit happy.' And then jes' at this stage o'the proceedings occurs what youse 'ud call a diversion.

  "It seemed that that wood stump didn't go clean to the river as I firstfigured, but stuck three-fourths the way down. An' a-course there's afool half-breed kid who's got to chase after it, thinkin' to do Peg-lega good turn.

  "I don't know nothin' about this, but jes' stand there talkin' back toPeg-leg, an' pre-tendin' I ain't got no misgivings, when I sees this kidcomin' a-cavoortin' an' a-cayoodlin' down the street with the leg in hishands, hollerin' out:

  "'Here's your leg, Mister Peg-leg! I went an' got it for you, MisterPeg-leg!'

  "It ain't so likely that Peg-leg could 'a' caught me even if he'd hadhis leg, but I wa'n't takin' no chances. An' as Peg-leg starts for thekid I start, too--with my heart knockin' agin my front teeth, you canbet.

  "I never knew how fast a man could hop till that mornin', an', lookin'at Peg-leg with the tail o' my eye as I ran, it seemed to me as how hewas a-goin' over the ground like a ole he-kangaroo. But somehow he getsoff his balance and comes down all of a smash like a rickety table, an'I reaches the kid first an' takes the leg away from him.

  "I guess Peg-leg must 'a' begun to lay it out by then that I held astraight flush to his ace high, for he sits down on the edge of thesidewalk an', being some winded, too, he just glares. Then byme-by hesays:

  "'You think you are some smart now, sonny, but I'm a-studyin' of yourface so's I'll know who to look for when I git a new leg; an' believeme, I'll know it, m'son--yours and your friend's too' (he meantClarence)--'an' I guess you'll both be kind o' sick afore I'm done withyou. _You!_' he goes on, tremendous disgustful. 'You! an' themone-lungers a-swearin' an' a-cussin' an' bedamnin' an' bedevilin' onea-other. Ain't ye just ashamed o' yourselves ?' (he thought I was aone-lunger, too); 'ain't ye ashamed--befoulin' your mouths, anddisturbin' the peace along of a quiet Sunday mornin', an' you-alls waistover in your graves? I'm fair sick o' my job,' he remarks, goin' kind o'thoughtful. 'Ten years now I've been range-ridin' all this yere ranch,a-doin' o' my little feeble, or'nary best to clean out the mouths o' youmen an' purify the atmosphere o' God's own country, but I ain't made_one_ convert. I've pounded 'em an' booted 'em, an' busted 'em an' shot'em up, an' they go on cussin' each other out harder'n ever. I don'tknow w'at all to do an' I sometimes gets plumb discouraged-like.'

  "Now, hearin' of him talk that-a-way, an' a-knowin' of his weakness, Igits a idea. It's a chanst and mebbee it don't pan out, but I puts it upas a bluff. I don't want, you see, to spend the rest o' my appointedtime in this yere vale o' tears a-dodgin' o' Peg-leg Smith, an' in theend, after all, to git between the wind and a forty-eight caliberdo-good, sure not. So I puts up a deal. Says I: 'Peg-leg, I'll make abargint along o' you. You lays it out as how you ain't never convertednobody out o' his swearin' habits. Now if you wants, 'ere's a chanst.You gimmee your word as a gent and a good-man-an'-true, as how you won'tnever make no play to shoot me up, in nowise whatsoever, so long as weboth do live, an' promise never to bust me, or otherwise, and promisenever to rustle me or interfere with my life, liberty and pursuit o'happiness, an' thereunto you set your seal an' may Lord 'a' mercy onyour soul--you promise that, an' I will agree an' covenant with theparty o' the first part to abstain an' abjure, early or late, dry ordrinkin', in liquor or out, out o' luck or in, rangin' or roundin', fromall part an' parcel o' profanity, cuss-words, little or big, several andseparate, bar none; this yere agreement to be considered as bindin' an'obligatory till the day o' your demise, decease or death. _There!_' saysI, 'there's a fair bargint put up between man an' man, an' I puts it toyou fair. You comes in with a strong ante an' you gets a genuine,guaranteed an' high-grade convert--the real article. You stays out, an'not only you loses a good chanst to cut off and dam up as vigorous astream o' profanity as is found between here and Laredo, but you loses ahandmade, copper-bound, steel-riveted, artificial limb--which in fiveminutes o' time,' says I, windin' up, 'will sure feed the fire. There'sthe bargint.'

  "Well, the ol' man takes out time for about as long as a thirstyhorse-rustler could put away half a dozen drinks an' he studies theproposition sideways and endways an' down side up. Then at last he upsand speaks out decided-like:

  "'Son,' he says, 'son, it's a bargint. Gimmee my leg.'

  "Somehow neither o' us misdoubts as how the other man won't keep hisword; an' I gives him his stump, an' he straps her on joyful-like, justas if he'd got back a ole friend. Then later on he hikes out for Mojaveand I don' see him no more for mebbee three years."

  "And then?" I prompted.

  "Well, I'll tell you," continued Bunt, between mouthfuls of pie, "I'lltell you. This yere prejudice agin profanity is the only thing aboutthis yere Peg-leg that ain't pizen bad, an' _that_ prejudice, you got toknow, was just along o' his being loco on that one subjeck. 'Twa'n't asif he had any real principles or convictions about the thing. It wasjust a loco prejudice. Just as some gesabes has feelin's agin cats an'snakes, or agin seein' a speckled nigger. It was just on-reasonable. Sowhat I'm aimin' to have you understand is the fact that it was extremelyappropriate that Peg-leg should die, that it was a blame good thing, andsomethin' to be celebrated by free drinks all round.

  "You can say he treated me white, an' took my unsupported word. Well, sohe did; but that was in spite o' what he really was hisself, 'way on theinside o' him. Inside o' him he was black-bad, an' it wa'n't a weekafter we had made our bargint that he did for a little Mojave kid in away I don't like to think of.

  "So when he took an' died like as how I'm a-going to tell you of, I wasplumb joyful, not only because I could feel at liberty to relieve mymind when necessary in a manner as is approved of and rightful amonggents--not only because o' that, but because they was one less bad eggin the cow-country.

  "Now the manner o' Peg-leg's dying was sure hilarious-like. I didn't gitover laughin' about it for a month o' Sundays--an' I ain't done yet. Itwas sure a joke on Peg-leg. The cutest joke that ever was played off onhim.

  "It was in Sonora--Sonora, Arizona, I mean. They'd a-been a kind o' goldexcitement there, and all the boys had rounded up. The town wasfull--chock-a-block. Peg-leg he was there too, drunk all the time an'bullyin' everybody, an' slambangin' around in his same old way. Thatvery day he'd used a friend o' his--his best friend--cruel hard: justmean and nasty, you know.

  "Well, I'm sitting into a little game o' faro about twelve o'clock atnight, me an' about a dozen o' the boys. We're good an' interested, andpretty much to the good o' the game, an' somebody's passin' drinks whenall at once there's a s
ure big rumpus out in the street, an' a gentsticks his head thro' the door an' yells out:

  "'Hi, there, they's a fire! The Golden West Hotel is on fire!'

  "We draws the game as soon as convenient and hikes out, an', my word,you'd 'a' thought from the looks o' things as how the whole town wasgoing. But it was only the hotel--the Golden West, where Peg-leg wasstayin'; an' when we got up we could hear the ol' murderer bellerin' an'ragin', an' him drunk--of course.

  "Well, I'm some excited. Lord love you, I'd as soon 'a' seen Peg-legshot as I would eat, an' when I remembers the little Mojave kid I'm gladas how his time is at hand. Saved us the trouble o' lynchin' that sooneror later had to come.

  "Peg-leg's room was in the front o' the house on the fourth floor, butthe fire was all below, and what with the smoke comin' out thethird-story winders he couldn't see down into the street, no more'n theboys could see him--only they just heard him bellerin'.

  "Then some one of 'em sings out:

  "'Hey, Peg-leg, jump! We got a blanket here.'

  "An' sure enough he does jump!"

  Here Bunt chuckled grimly, muttering, "Yes, sir, sure enough he didjump."

  "I don't quite see," I observed, "where the laugh comes in. What was thejoke of it?"

  "The joke of it was," finished Bunt, "that they hadn't any blanket."