Scattergood Baines - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"To be sure," said Scattergood. "Mighty funny thing about that gold, now wa'n't it? Three bars. Wuth fifty thousand! Mighty slick work--to spirit it off and n.o.body never find a trace."
"The criminal cla.s.ses," said Mr. Bowman, "have produced some remarkable intellects. Good night, Mr. Baines."
"See you early in the mornin'," replied Scattergood.
After a breakfast which Mr. Bowman watched Scattergood dispose of with admiration and astonishment, the pair entered the old buggy and started across the hills. In addition to his small bag Mr. Bowman brought a large suitcase containing his apparel, so it was apparent he was leaving the county seat for good. The morning came off hot and humid.
Scattergood kept his eyes open for a spring, but it was not until they had driven some miles that an opportunity to find water appeared.
"Calculate we kin git a drink there," said Scattergood, pointing to a little shanty in a clearing by the roadside. He stopped his horse, and they alighted and knocked. There was no reply. Scattergood pushed open the door and then stepped back suddenly, for within were three individuals of disreputable appearance, and one of them regarded Scattergood over the leveled barrels of a shotgun.
"Come right in and set," invited this individual, and Scattergood, followed by Mr. Bowman, entered. On a table of pine wood, unconcealed, lay three enormous bars of gold.
"Um!..." said Scattergood, faintly, and leaned against the wall. "You would come rammin' in," said the gentleman with the shotgun. "Now I calc'late you got to stay."
Scattergood grinned amiably. "Vallyble loaves of bread you got there,"
he said.
"Gold," said the man, succinctly.
"Hain't no mines around here, be there?"
"We hain't sayin'. But that there gold come from a mine, all right--sometime."
"Calc'late you been robbin' a train or somethin'," said Scattergood, mildly. "Now don't git het up. 'Tain't none of my business. Doin'
robbin' for a reg'lar livin'?" he asked, innocently.
"Hain't never done none before--" began one of the men, but his companion directed him to "shut up and stay shut."
"No harm talkin' 's I kin see. We got these fellers here and here they stay till we git clean off. Kind of like to tell somebody the joke."
"I'm doggone int'rested," said Scattergood.
The rough individual with the gun laughed loudly. "May's well tell you,"
he said, raucously. "Me and the boys was in town yestiddy, calc'latin'
to s.h.i.+p some ferns by express. Went into the office. Agent wa'n't there.
Safe was. Open. Ya-as, wide open. We seen three gold chunks inside, and n.o.body around watchin'. Looked full better 'n ferns, so we jest took a notion to carry 'em out to the wagin and drive off.... Now we got it, I'm dummed if I know what to do with it. Hear tell it's wuth fifty thousand dollars."
Mr. Bowman spoke. "You'll find it mighty hard to dispose of."
"Don't need to worry you."
"Suppose you could sell it for a fair price, cash, and get away with the money?"
"That's our aim."
"Mr. Baines," said Bowman, "there's money in this if you aren't too particular."
"Hain't p'tic'lar a-tall. How you mean?"
"What would you say to buying this gold--at a reasonable price? I can dispose of it--through channels I am acquainted with. You can put in the money we were going for, and I'll put in some more. Ought to show a handsome profit."
"Might nigh double my money, maybe, eh? Figger that? Gimme twict as much to buy stock with."
"Yes, indeed."
"Let's d.i.c.ker."
"What will you men take to walk away and leave that gold?"
"Forty thousand."
"Fiddlesticks. I'll give you ten--and you're clear of the whole mess."
There was a wrangle. For half an hour the d.i.c.ker went on, and finally a price of fifteen thousand dollars was agreed upon. Mr. Bowman was to pay over the money, and Scattergood was to contribute his five thousand dollars as soon as they got it. For one third of the profits.
The money was paid over; the three robbers disappeared with alacrity, leaving Scattergood and Bowman with the stolen gold.
"We can take it along in the buggy, covered with ferns," said Bowman.
"n.o.body'll suspect _you_."
"Be safe as a church," said Scattergood, boldly. "Lug her out."
So they carried the gold to the buggy, covered it snugly with ferns, and drove toward the next town, Scattergood talking excitedly of profits and of how much mining stock he could purchase with the money received, and of ample wealth from the transaction. Mr. Bowman smiled with the faint, quiet smile of one whose soul is at peace. Just before they got to town Scattergood suggested that they stop to make sure the gold was completely concealed.
They drove into the woods a few rods and uncovered the treasure.
Scattergood gloated over it.
"I've heard tell you kin cut real gold like cheese," he said, and opened his jackknife. With it he hacked off a shaving and held it up to the light.
"Is all gold this here way?" he asked. "Don't look to me to be the same color all the way through. Looks like silver or suthin' inside."
Mr. Bowman s.n.a.t.c.hed the shaving, scrutinized it, and uttered language in a loud voice. He s.n.a.t.c.hed Scattergood's knife and tested all three ingots.
"Lead!" he said, savagely. "Nothing but lead! We've been swindled!"
"You mean it hain't gold a-tall?"
"It's lead, I tell you."
"I vum!... Them fellers stole lead! And they got off with all your money. Gos.h.!.+ I'm glad I didn't have none along." His eyes were mirthless and his face vacuous. "Beats all. Never heard tell of nothin' sim'lar."
They got into the buggy and drove silently into town. Mr. Bowman tried to recover his spirits, but they were at low ebb. He did manage to hint that Scattergood should stand his share of the loss, but in his heart he knew that to be vain. Still, he could get that five thousand dollars for the mining stock. It would be five thousand dollars.
"Anyhow," he said, "you're fortunate. You still can buy the stock and make your pile."
"This here deal," said Scattergood, "has kind of made me figger. 'Tain't safe to buy gold chunks till you _know_ they're gold. Likewise 'tain't safe to buy mine stock till you know there's a mine. Calc'late I'll do a mite of investigatin' 'fore I pungle over that five thousand.... Where kin I leave you, Mr. Bowman? I'm calc'latin' to drive home from here.
Maybe I'll see you later. But I got to investigate."