CHAPTER XV
THE TRAP
The sun had rushed behind the distant mountains, and the dusk was gathering in the gulch when Pop Howes rode up to the American Beauty and dismounted. His face was worried and haggard. He had had a long talk with his friend, Hard-rock Hogan, but neither of them could think of any way by which they could raise sufficient money to save the American Beauty from the clutches of the Black Rock Bank. Another week and the bank would automatically take possession, unless Pop could raise the necessary cash to pay the interest and part of the loan.
Jim Allen was waiting for him, and before Pop entered the house, the little outlaw drew him aside and talked rapidly for several minutes.
“That would be a fool thing to do!” Pop complained. “What you got in your head now?”
“Yuh do like I say; yuh trot down to the post office an’ pretend to get that letter; then yuh tell two or three people on the quiet what I just tol’ yuh to. Yuh act happy an’ glad—make believe you’re a little drunk—an’ then tell a coupla more folks. Then yuh come back here, get your ol’ lady, an’ sneak over to Hard-rock’s place an’ lay low. I’ll do the rest, an’ don’t yuh worry none. I ain’t sure she works, but if she does, mebbe yuh won’t lose your mine!” Jim spoke confidently and grinned one of his broad, likable grins.
Pop grumbled and complained about being left in the dark as to just what Allen intended to do, but at length he consented to do what Allen asked. He told his wife that he had to go to town with Jim Allen. And as Jim saw the look of worry that crossed her face, he realized she must have known all the while that the Mexican boy had been killed by mistake for her husband.
“Don’t worry none, ma’am. I stick close to him an’ he won’t get hurt none!” Allen reassured her.
The woman watched them, as the famous outlaw walked down the path beside her husband, whose tall, gaunt form made Allen seem smaller than ever. Behind them trotted Allen’s two gray horses. One was saddled and the other carried a small pack. Mrs. Howes felt no fear now for her husband; those two low-hung guns that Allen wore brought her a feeling of confidence that her man would return safely.
Dusk had given way to night by the time the two arrived in Goldville. The miners were streaming into town, and the saloons were rapidly filling. Most of the miners were Mexicans, but there were a few husky, broad-shouldered Americans among them.
Allen left his grays at the hitching rack before the Ace High and followed Pop Howes through the milling crowd toward the post office. Pop entered and then reappeared a moment later with a letter in his hand. Allen watched him as he ripped it open and read it by the light cast from the office window.