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  CHAPTER THREE

  JOHNNY GOES GAILY ENOUGH TO SINKHOLE

  Johnny Jewel, moved by the fluctuating determination of the young, wentto bed that night fully resolved that he would not quit a good job justbecause untoward circumstance compelled him to herd with a bunch ofbrainless clowns. He, who had a definite aim in life, would not permitthat aim to be turned aside because various and sundry roughneck punchersthought it was funny to go around yelping like a band of coyotes. Mary V,too--he did not neglect to include Mary V. Indeed, much of hisdetermination to remain was born of his desire to crush that insolentyoung woman with polite, pitying toleration.

  Even when the boys trooped in and began to compose what they believed tobe rhymes, Johnny did not weaken. He turned his face to the wall andignored them. Poor simps, what more could you expect? They went so far asto attempt some poetizing on the subject of Johnny's downfall in thecorral, but no one seemed able to eliminate the word bronk at the endof the first line, "_Johnny tried to ride a bronk._" No one seemed able,either, to find any rhyme but honk. They tried ker-plunk, and althoughthat seemed to answer the purpose fairly well, they were far fromsatisfied.

  So was Johnny, but he would not say a word to save their lives. In spiteof himself he heard a howl of glee when some genius among them declaimedloudly: "_Johnny volluped into Job's Coffin, and Venus she most dieda-lawfin!_"

  Johnny gave a grunt of contempt, and the genius, who happened to be Bud,lifted his head off the pillow and stared at the black shadow whereJohnny lay curled up like a cat.

  "What's the matter with that, Skyrider? Kain't I make up po'try if I wantto?"

  "Sure. Help yourself--you poor fish. Vollup! _Hunh!_" The contempt waseven more pronounced than before.

  "Well? What's the matter with that? You said it yourself. And look outhow you go peddlin' names around here. You think nobody knows anythingbut you! You're the little boy that invented flyin'--got the idea fromyore own head, by thunder, when it swelled up like a balloon withself-conceit! That there gas-head of yourn'll take yuh right up amongstthe clouds some day, and you won't need no flyin' machine, neither!Skyrider--is--_right_!" Accidentally Johnny had touched Bud's self-esteemin a tender spot. "And that's no kidding, either!" he clinched hismeaning. "Punch a hole in yore skelp, and I'll bet that big haid of yournwould wizzle all up like them red balloons they sell at circuses! You--"

  "_Hm-m-m!_ Just so it ain't all solid bone like yours," Johnny came backat him with youth's full quota of scorn. "Keep away from pool rooms, Bud.Somebody is liable to take your head off and use it for a cue-ball._Vollup! Hunh!_"

  Bud said more; a great deal more. But Johnny flopped over on theother side, buried his head under the blankets, and let them talk.Cue-balls--that was all their heads were good for. So why concernhimself over their senseless patter?

  It occurred to him, just before he went to sleep, that the unmistakable,southern drawl of Tex was missing from the jumble of voices. Tex, heremembered, had been unusually silent at supper, also, and twice Johnnyhad caught Tex watching him somberly. But he could think of no possiblereason why Tex should want him to go down to Sinkhole Camp, and he couldnot see how either of them could effect the change even if Johnny hadcared to go. Sudden Selmer did not ask his men what was their desire.Sudden gave orders; his men could obey or they could quit. And if Peteleft, as Tex had hinted, Sudden would send some one down there, and thatwould be an end of it. There was just about one chance in six that JohnnyJewel would be the man to go.

  Yet it so happened that Johnny did go--though Tex had nothing to do withit, so far as Johnny could see. For all his determination to stay andtolerate his companions, noon found him packed and out by the gate thatopened on the stage road, waiting to flag the stage and buy a ride totown. He had accomplished, since breakfast, two fights and anotherquarrel with Mary V over that infernal jingle he had written. And thoughJohnny could not see it, Tex had had something to do with them all.

  Tex was not one of these diabolically cunning villains. He did notconsider himself any kind of a villain. He accepted himself more or lesscontentedly as a poor, striving young man who wanted to get ahead in theworld and was eager to pick up what he called "side money," which might,if he were on to his job, amount to more than his wages. Tex did notconsider that he owed the Rolling R anything whatever save a certainnumber of days' work in each month that he drew a pay check. He soldSudden his time and his skill in the saddle--a month of it for fiftydollars. But if he could double that fifty without harm to himself, Texwas not going to split any hairs over the method.

  Tex was not displaying any great genius when he edged the boys on totease Johnny beyond the limit of that young man's endurance, or when hetattled to Mary V a slighting remark about her ability as a poet. Tex wasmerely carrying out an idea which had come to him when he saw Johnny withhis hands full of aircraft literature. If it worked, all right. If itdidn't work, Johnny would not be on the Rolling R pay roll any longer,but Tex would not have lost anything. It would be convenient to haveJohnny down at Sinkhole Camp, shirking his job while he fiddled aroundwith his flying bug. Tex believed he knew how he could keep the bug veryactive, and Johnny very much engrossed with it--down at Sinkhole Camp. Itwas simple enough, and worth the slight effort Tex was making.

  So there was Johnny Jewel with his saddle and bridle and suitcase andchaps, waiting out by the mail box for the stage. And there came Sudden,driving back from the railroad--Tex knew he was expected back thatforenoon--and reaching the gate before the stage had come in sightaround the southwest spur of the ridge it could not cross. Sudden likedJohnny--and Tex knew that too. (Tex made it his business to know a gooddeal which had nothing to do with his legitimate work.) And good riderswho did not get drunk every chance that offered were not to be hiredevery day in the week.

  Johnny opened the gate, but Sudden did not drive through. He stopped andeyed the suitcase and the saddle and the chaps, and then he looked atJohnny.

  "Too much song-bird stuff?" he asked, which showed how sensitive was thefinger Sudden kept on the pulse of his outfit.

  "I've got to work for a living, but I don't have to work with that bunchof idiots," Johnny stated with much dignity.

  Sudden rubbed a gauntleted hand across the lower part of his face; andthat, I think, is why Johnny saw himself taken as seriously as his youngegotism demanded.

  "Rather be by yourself, would you? Well, throw your baggage in the backof the car. I want you to catch up a couple of horses and go on down toSinkhole. You won't be annoyed down there with anybody's foolishness butyour own, young man. You'll work for your living, all right! Got a gun? Arifle? Well, there's one at the house you can take. There may not be anyRolling R horses going across the line--but it'll be your business to_know_ there aren't. If you see a greaser prowling around, put him on therun. They're paying good money for horses in Mexico, remember. You'redown there to see they don't get 'em too cheap on this side. Do you getthat?"

  "Yes, sir--you bet!"

  "Oh. You do? Well, get in."

  At the corral he turned again to Johnny. "Stop at the house when you'reready. There's a pile of _Modern Mechanics_ you may as well take along.You won't have any too much time for reading, though--not if you work theway you rhyme."

  "Well, I hope I work better," said Johnny, his spirits risen to wherespeech bubbled. "I get paid for my work--and I guess I'd starve writingpoetry for a living."

  "Yes, I guess you would. Good thing you know it." Sudden swung hismachine around and drove into the garage, and Johnny, untying his ropefrom his saddle, went into the corral to catch two fairly gentle horses.

  When he was ready he rode over to the bungalow, leading the gentlesthorse packed with bedding roll, "war bag," and a few odds and ends thatJohnny wanted to take along. Sudden was waiting on the porch with arifle, cartridge belt and two extra boxes of ammunition, and a sack halffull of magazines. He stood with his hands in his pockets while Johnnytied rifle and sack on the saddle.

  "Now I want you to understand, Johnny
, that you're going down there onspecial work," he said, coming down the steps and standing close to thehorse. "There's a telephone, and that's your protection if anything looksoff-color. Keep the stock pushed back pretty well away from the linefences. There's some good feed in those draws over east of Sinkholecreek. Let 'em graze in there--but keep an eye out for rustlers. Getto know the bunches of horses and watch their moves. You'll soon knowwhether they are being bothered. Pete leaves camp this afternoon. You'llprobably meet him.

  "And this gun--well, you keep it right with you. I don't want you to goaround hunting trouble, but I want you to be ready for it if it comes. Ahorse looks awfully good to a greaser, remember. But no greaser likes thelooks of a white man with a gun. Now let's see how much brains you've gotfor the job, young man. If you see to it that no Rolling R stuff comes upmissing, and do it without any trouble, I'll call that making good."

  "All right, I'll try and make good, then." Johnny's shoulders went back."When a man's got some object in life besides just earning a living,he--"

  From within the house full-toned chords were struck from a piano. Johnnyscowled, gave his packed horse a yank, and rode off. Couldn't that girlever let up on a fellow? Playing that darn fool tune over and over! Itsure showed how much brains she had in her head! He hoped she'd getenough of it. If he was her mother or her father, he knew what he'd dowith her and the whole outfit. He'd stand 'em all up in a row and make'em sing that fool song till they were hoarse as calves on the fifth dayof weaning. There was a time, too, when he had liked that girl. If shehad shown any brains or feeling, he could have loved Mary V. Good thinghe found out in time.

  Johnny looked back from the gate and heaved a great sigh of relief at hisnarrow escape. Or was it regret? Johnny himself did not know, but hecalled it relief because that was the most comfortable emotion a youngman may take away with him into desert loneliness.

  Yes, sir, he was glad of the chance to stay at Sinkhole for awhile. Hewouldn't be pestered to death, and he would have plenty of time to studyand read. He'd send for that correspondence course on aviation, and he'dget the theory of it all down pat, so that when he had enough money savedup to go into the thing right, all he would need would be the actualpractice in the air. He should think he could go to some school and workhis way along; get a little practice every day, and do repair work orsomething the rest of the time for nothing. A dollar a minute forlearning was pretty steep, Johnny thought, but after all it was worth it.A dollar a minute--and four hundred minutes in the air for the averagecourse!

  Four hundred dollars, and only half that much saved. And then there wouldbe his fare back east, and his board--Johnny wished that he might cut outeating, but he realized how healthy was his appetite. He counted threemeals for every day, at an average of fifty cents for each meal. Well,even so, he could "ride the bumpers" to the school; take a side-doorpullman; beat his way; hobo it--or whatever the initiated wanted tocall it. He could send his suitcase on by express, and just wear oldclothes--send his money on, too, for that matter. He could save quite alot that way. Or maybe he could get Sudden to let him go back with cattlefrom the Gila River Ranch--only he wouldn't ask any favors from any oneby the name of Selmer. No, he'd be darned if he would! He'd just draw hiswages, when he had enough saved, and drop out of sight. He wouldn't eventell Curley where he was going. And then, some day--

  There came the air castle again, floating alluringly before his eagerimagination, like a mirage lake in the desert. Johnny's eyes stared aheadthrough the shimmering heat waves--stared and saw not the monotonousneutral tints of sand and rock and gray sage and yellow weeds and therutted, dusty trail that wound away across the desert. But Mary V's faceturned expectantly toward him from the crowd as he walked nonchalantlyaround his big tractor, testing every cable, inspecting the landing gearand the elevators and the--what-ye-may-call-'ems--and then climbing inand trying out his control--and pulling down his goggles and settling hismoleskin cap and all--and then nodding imperiously to his helper--notlittle Curley; he was not big enough to crank his powerful motor--butsome big guy that had a reach like--

  And then the buzz and the hum, and fellows braced against the wings tohold 'er till he was ready to give the word! And the dust storm he kickedup behind--he hoped Mary V got her eyes full, darn her!--and then,getting the feel of 'er, and giving a nod to the fellows to let go thewings! And then--

  Johnny rode along in a trance. He, his conscious inward self, was notriding a sweating bronk along a trail that wound more-or-less southwardacross the desert. That was his body, chained by grim necessity to workfor a wage. He, Johnny Jewel's ego, was soaring up and up and up--up tillthe eagles themselves gazed enviously after. He was darting in and outamong the convolutions of fluffy white clouds; was looping earthward ingreat, invisible volutes; catching himself on the upward curve andzigzagging away again, swimming ecstatically the high, clean air currentswhich the poor, crawling, earthbound ones never know.

  Johnny jarred back to earth and to the sordid realities of life. He hadridden half way to Sinkhole without knowing it, and now his horse hadstopped, facing another horse whose rider was staring curiously atJohnny. This was Pete, on his way in from Sinkhole.

  "Say-y! Yuh snake-bit, or what?" Pete asked. "Ridin' glassy-eyed right_at_ a feller! If my hawse had been a mite shorter, I expect you'd ofrode right on over me and never of saw me. What's bitin' yuh, Johnny?"

  "Me? Nothing!" No daydreamer likes being pulled out of his dream by sougly a reality as Pete, and Johnny was petulant. "Why didn't you get outathe way, then? You saw me coming, didn't you?"

  "Me? Sure! I ain't _loco_. I seen yuh five mile back, about. I knowed itwas somebody from the ranch. Sudden 'phoned in and said I could drag it.And you can bet yore sweet young life I hailed them words with joy! Whatyuh done to 'im that he's sendin' yuh off down to Sinkhole? Me, I 'phonedin and much as told 'em he'd have to double my pay if he wanted me tostay down there any longer. That was a coupla days ago. Didn't git nosatisfaction atall till to-day. Me, I'd ruther go to jail, twicet over,than stay here a week longer. Ain't saw a soul in two weeks down there.Well, I'll be pushin' along. Adios--and here's hopin' you like it betterthan what I done."

  Johnny told him good-bye and straightway forgot him. Once he had his twohorses "lined out" in their shuffling little trail-trot that was theirnatural gait, he picked up his dream where he had been interrupted. Wherehis body went mattered little to Johnny Jewel, so long as he was leftalone with his thoughts. So presently his eyes were once more staringvacantly at the dim trail, while in spirit he was soaring high andswooping downward with the ease of a desert lark, while thousandsthrilled to watch his flight.

  What did he care about Sinkhole Camp? Loneliness meant long,uninterrupted hours in which to ride and read and dream of the greatthings he meant some day to do.