In reply Joshua only gave her his whimsical smile, and she never knew how troubled was his soul.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE NIGHT OF JUNE FIFTEENTH
ELIZABETH MUNDY and her daughter had gone to the city on “the inside” of the range. Joshua Cole moved about his little cabin with a listless air when not wrapped up in his studies. Five days had passed since he waved good-by to Madge as the six-horse stage took up the long trip from Ragtown to the desert town of Spur. Joshua was not going East. He had trailed down from the summit of Spyglass Mountain one evening to find a vigorous fire blazing at one corner of his cabin, and had heard the thud of hoofs galloping off into the dusk. Five buckets of water from the near-by well had saved his cabin and his precious books and papers, but the owner now realized that Sweet meant business and he dared not leave the country. Even as Felix Wolfgang had planned.
The first time that Joshua rode to Ragtown for the mail after Madge’s departure he encountered California Bill. The two seated themselves in a remote corner of The Silver Dollar, and Joshua told of the bullet holes in his cabin roof, of one shattered window, of the fire of pitchy pine splinters laid by horsemen who had galloped away into the dusk, and of the rifleman on a shelf of Spyglass Mountain.
“And now,” he finished, “what’s your advice, old Bill? I’ll respect it—even act on it—as I would the advice of no other man I know.”
“Pin the medal here, Tony,” chuckled Bill, tapping his broad breast with a stubby forefinger. “Pin ’er here, an’ listen to words o’ wisdom.”
“Shoot!”
“Do nothin’ but stick and watch yer prop’ty, an’ leave th’ rest to that interestin’, quaint, an’ exclusive character known as California Bill.”
“But, Bill, I don’t want to foist my troubles on you. I’ll do the doing. I merely want advice.”
“An’ ye’ve got ’er, son—ye’ve got ’er. I’m th’ only man in these here mountains that c’n handle this here deal. Funny—but I am, seems. So it’s up to me to handle her. I know Lee Sweet like I know my off lead mule, an’ it’s a toss-up whichun’s the ornriest o’ th’ two. Lee’s th’ stubbornest, but th’ mule’s ears are th’ longest. Th’ mule’s meaner than Lee Sweet, but Lee Sweet he thinks he’s th’ meanest. However, he thinks wrong. I’m s’prised at Lee. Ye see, I know ’im so well. ’Tain’t like Lee a-tall to act thataway. So, knowin’ that, I draw certain conclusions, based on certain things I’ve witnessed here of late. So keep ridin’ wide an’ pretty, Tony, an’ don’t strangle th’ biscuit—an’ leave th’ rest to me. How’s Shanty Madge makin’ out these days?”