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Copper Streak Trail Part 11

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So Carr told him at length the story of the robbery and Stanley Mitch.e.l.l's arrest, aided by a few questions from Pete.

"And the funny thing is, there's a lot of folks not so well satisfied yet, for all they found the money and notwithstandin' the young feller himself didn't make no holler. They say he wasn't that kind. The deputy sher'f, 'special, says he don't believe but what it was a frame-up to do him. And Bull Pepper, that found the money hid in the saddle riggin', says he: 'That money was put there a-purpose to be found; fixed so it wouldn't be missed.'"

He looked a question.

"Ya-as," said Pete.

Thus encouraged, Carr continued:



"And Old Mose Taylor, at the Mountain House--Mitch.e.l.l got his hearin'

before him, you know--he says Mitch.e.l.l ain't surprised or excited or much worried, and makes no big kick, just sits quiet, a-studyin', and he's d.a.m.ned if he believes he ever done it. Oh, yes! Mose told me if I see you to tell you young Mitch.e.l.l left some money in the safe for you."

"Ya-as," said Pete. "Here comes your _caballada_. Likely looking horses, Jack."

"A leetle thin," said Carr.

He took six nose-bags, already filled, and fed his wagon stock. Bobby pulled the saddle from the Nan-na pony, tied him to a bush, and gave him breakfast from his own small _morral_. Then he sidled toward the fire.

"Bobby, come over here," said Bobby's father. "This is your stepuncle Pete."

Bobby complied. He gave Pete a small grimy hand and looked him over thoughtfully from tip to tip, opening his blue eyes to their widest for that purpose, under their long black lashes.

"You Stan Mitch.e.l.l's pardner?"

"I am that."

"You goin' to break him out o' the pen?"

"Surest thing you know!" said Pete.

"That's good!" He relaxed his grip on Pete's hand and addressed himself to breakfast. "I like Stan," he announced, with his head in the chuck-box.

Pete used the opportunity to exchange a look with Bobby's father.

Bobby emerged from the chuck-box and resumed the topic of Stanley Mitch.e.l.l.

"He'll make a hand after he's been here a spell--Stan will," he stated gravely.

"Oh, you know him, then?"

"I was with him the evenin' before the big doin's. He didn't steal no money!"

"What makes you think so?"

"Easy! He's got brains, hain't he? I rode with him maybe a mile, but I could see that. Well! If he'd stole that money, they wouldn't 'a' found it yet. Them fellows make me tired!"

Pete made a pretext of thirst and brought a bucket for water from the spring, crooking a finger at Jackson Carr to follow. Carr found him seated at the spring, shaking with laughter.

"Jack, he's all there--your boy! Couldn't any judge size it up better."

"Frame-up, then?"

"Sure! That part's all right."

"I see you wasn't much taken aback."

"No. We was expectin' something like that and had discounted it. I'm just as well pleased Stan's in jail just now, and I'm goin' to leave him there a spell. Safer there. You remember old Hank Bergman?"

Carr nodded.

"Well, Hank's the sheriff here--and he'll give us a square deal. Now I'm goin' back to interview that boy of yours some more. I reckon you're right proud of that kid, Jack."

"Yes; I am. Bobby's a pretty good boy most ways. But he swears something dreadful."

"Pull a strap off of him," said Pete warmly. "That's a d.a.m.n fine boy, and you want to start him right. That's half the battle."

Pete returned to the fire for a final cup of coffee.

"Young man," he said, "would you know that brown horse Stan was ridin'

when you met up with him?"

"Awguan? Sure! I'd know him in h.e.l.l!" said Bobby.

"Well, Stan turned that horse loose to rustle for himself, of course. Do you reckon you could stir round and find him for me--if your dad can spare you? I want to go to the railroad to-night, and Awguan, he's fresh.

My horses are tired."

"If you don't want that horse," said Bobby, "don't send me after him."

"Now, Jack," said Pete after Bobby had departed on the search for Awguan, "you go away and don't pester me. I want to think."

To the processes of thought, for the s.p.a.ce of four pipes, he gave aid by hugging his knees, as if he had called them in consultation. Then he summoned Jackson Carr.

"How're you fixed for work, Jack?"

"None. I reckon to get plenty, though, when I get my teams fitted up.

They're jaded from a lumber job."

"You're hired--for a year, month, and day. And as much longer as you like. Suit you?"

"Suits me."

"You're my foreman, then. Hire your teams the first thing. Make your own terms. I'll tell you this much--it's a big thing. A mine--a he-mine; copper. That's partly why Stan is in jail. And if it comes off, you won't need to worry about the kid's schooling. I aim to give you, extra, five per cent of my share--and, for men like you and me, five per cent of this lay is exactly the same as all of it. It's that big.

"I'm askin' you to obey orders in the dark. If you don't know any details you won't be mad, and you won't know who to be mad at; so you won't jump in to save the day if I fail to come through with my end of it on schedule, and get yourself killed off. That ain't all, either. Your face always gives you away; if you knew all the very shrewd people I'm buckin', you'd give 'em the marble eye, and they'd watch you. Not knowin'

'em, you'll treat 'em all alike, and you won't act suspicious.

"Listen now: You drift out quiet and go down on the Gila, somewhere between Mohawk Siding and Walton. Know that country? Yes? That's good.

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