the trail of the white mule-第14部分

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to　think　too　long　and　harshly　about　the　matter。

I　explained　later　to　Casey　that　Barney　Oakes　had　reported　his
disappearance　to　the　officials　in　Barstow。　　The　sheriff's　office
had　long　suspected　a　nest　of　moonshiners　somewhere　near　Black
Butte；　and　it　was　rumored　that　one　Mart　Hanson；　who　owned　a　mine
up　there；　was　banking　more　money　than　was　reasonable；　these　hard
times；　for　a　miner；　who　ships　no　ore。　　Casey's　disappearance　had
crystallized　the　suspicions　into　an　immediate　investigation。　　And
Barney's　assertion　that　Casey　had　been　murdered　took　the　coroner
along　with　the　posse。

It　had　all　been　straight　and　fairly　simple　until　they　reached　the
mine　and　discovered　Casey　uproariously　one　of　the　gang。　　Throwing
loaded　dynamite　at　sheriffs　is　frowned　upon　nowadays　in　the　best
official　circles；　I　told　Casey；　he　would　have　to　explain　that　in
court；　I　was　afraid。

Then　Barney；　after　Casey　had　kicked　him　in　the　chin；　had　reversed
his　first　report　of　the　trouble　and　was　now　declaiming　to　all　who
would　listen　that　he　had　been　decoyed　to　Black　Butte　by　Casey
Ryan　and　there　ambushed　and　nearly　killed。　　Casey；　as　Barney　now
interpreted　the　incident；　had　joined　his　confederates　under　the
very　thin　pretense　of　climbing　the　butte　to　come　at　them　from
behind。　Barney　now　remembered　that　he　had　been　shot　at　from　three
different　angles；　and　that　the　burros　had　been　killed　by　pistol
shots　fired　at　close　rangepresumably　by　Casey　Ryan。

It　was　like　taming　tigers　to　make　Casey　sit　still　and　listen　to
all　this；　but　I　had　to　do　it　so　that　he　would　know　what　to
disprove。　Afterwards　I　had　a　talk　with　Joe　and　Paw；　separately；
and　so　got　at　the　whole　truth。　　They　bore　no　malice　toward　Casey
and　were　perfectly　willing　to　see　him　out　of　the　scrape。　　They
were　a　sobered　pair；　Hank；　like　a　fool；　had　fired　at　the　posse
and　was　killed。

The　next　day　came　the　Little　Woman　to　the　rescue。　　I　told　her　the
whole　story；　not　even　omitting　the　burro；　before　she　went　to　the
jail　to　see　Casey。　　It　was　a　pretty　messtake　it　all　aroundand
I　was　secretly　somewhat　doubtful　of　the　outcome。

The　Little　Woman　is　game　as　women　are　made。　　She　went　with　me　to
the　jail；　and　she　met　Casey　with　a　whimsical　smile。　　We　found　him
sitting　on　the　side　of　his　bunk　with　his　legs　stretched　out　and
his　feet　crossed；　his　good　hand　thrust　in　his　trousers　pocket　and
a　cigarette　in　one　corner　of　his　mouth；　which　turned　sourly
downward。　He　cocked　an　eye　up　at　us　and　rose；　as　the　Little　Woman
had　maybe　taught　him　was　proper。　　But　he　did　not　say　a　word　until
the　Little　Woman　walked　up　and　kissed　him　on　both　cheeks；　turning
his　face　this　way　and　that　with　her　hand　under　his　chin。

Casey　grinned　sheepishly　then　and　hugged　her　with　his　good　arm。　I
wish　you　could　have　seen　the　look　in　his　eyes　when　they　dwelt　on
the　Little　Woman！

〃Casey　Ryan；　you　need　a　shave。　　And　your　shirt　collar　is　a
disgrace　to　a　Piute；〃　she　drawled　reprovingly。

Casey　looked　at　me　over　her　shoulder　and　grinned。　　He　hadn't　a
word　to　say　for　himself；　which　was　unusual　in　Casey　Ryan。

〃It's　lucky　for　you；　Casey　Ryan；　that　I　remembered　to　go　down　to
the　police　station　and　get　the　proof　that　you　were　pinched　twice
on　Broadway　just　five　days　before　Barney　Oakes　says　he　found　you
stalled　in　the　trail　north　of　Barstow；　and　that　you　had　been
pinched　pretty　regularly　every　whip…stitch　for　the　last　six
months；　and　were　a　familiar　and　unwelcome　figure　in　downtown
traffic　and　elsewhere。

〃The　sheriff　who　raided　Black　Butte　admitted　to　me　that　it　is
utterly　impossible　for　the　world　to　hold　more　than　one　Casey　Ryan
at　a　time；　and　that　he；　for　one；　is　willing　to　accept　the　word　of
the　city　police　that　you　were　there　raising　the　record　for
traffic　trouble　and　not　moonshining　at　Black　Butte。　　He　doesn't
approve　of　throwing　dynamite　at　people；　butwell；　I　talked　with
the　prosecuting　attorney；　too；　and　they　both　seem　to　be　mighty
nice　men　and　reasonable。　　I'm　afraid　Barney　Oakes　will　see　his
beautiful　story　all　spoiled。〃

〃He'll　forget　it　when　he　feels　the　ruin　to　his　face　I'm　goin'　t'
create　for　him　if　I　ever　meet　up　with　'im　again；〃　Casey　commented
grimly。

〃Babe　sent　you　a　pincushion　she　made　in　school。　　I　think　she　made
beautiful；　neat　stitches　in　that　C；〃　went　on　the　Little　Woman　in
a　placid；　gossipy　tone　invented　especially　for　domestic
conversation。　〃Andoh；　yes！　　There's　a　new　laundryman　on　our
route；　and　he　PERSISTS　in　running　across　the　lawn　and　dumping　the
laundry　in　the　front　hall；　though　I've　told　him　and　TOLD　him　to
deliver　it　at　the　back。　　And　there's　a　new　tenant　in　Number　Six；
and　they　hadn't　been　in　more　than　three　days　before　he　came　home
drunk　and　kept　everybody　in　the　house　awake；　bellowing　up　and
down　the　hall　and　abusing　his　wife　and　all。　　I　told　him　held　have
to　go　when　his　month　is　up；　but　he　says　he'll　be　damned　if　he
will。　He　says　he　won't　and　I　can't　make　him。〃

〃He　won't；　hey？〃　　A　familiar；　pale　glitter　came　into　Casey's
eyes。　〃You　watch　and　see　whether　he　goes　or　not！　　He　better　tell
Casey　Ryan　he　won't　go！　　Who'd；　they　think's　runnin'　the　place？　
Lemme　ketch　that　laundry　driver　oncet；　runnin'　across　our　lawn；
I'll　run　'im　across　iton　his　nose！　　They　take　advantage　of　you
quick　as　my　back's　turned。　　I'll　learn　'em　they　got　Casey　Ryan　to
reckon　with！〃

The　Little　Woman　gave　me　a　smiling　glance　over　Casey's　shoulder；
and　lowered　a　cautious　eyelid。　　I　left　them　then　and　went　away　to
have　a　satisfying　talk　with　the　sheriff　and　the　prosecuting
attorney。



CHAPTER　EIGHT

In　the　desert；　where　roads　are　fewer　and　worse　than　they　should
be；　a　man　may　travel　wherever　he　can　negotiate　the　rocks　and
sand；　and　none　may　say　him　nay。　　If　any　man　objects；　the　traveler
is　by　custom　privileged　to　whip　the　objector　if　he　is　big　enough；
and　afterwards　go　on　his　way　with　the　full　approval　of　public
opinion。　　He　may　blaze　a　trail　of　his　own；　return　that　way　a　year
later　and　find　his　trail　an　established　thoroughfare。

In　the　desert　Casey　gave　trail　to　none　nor　asked　reprisals　if　he
suffered　most　in　a　sudden　meeting。　　In　Los　Angeles　Casey　was
halted　and　rebuked　on　every　corner；　so　he　complained；　hampered
and　annoyed　by　rules　and　regulations　which　desert　dwellers　never
dreamed　of。

Since　he　kept　the　optimistic　viewpoint　of　a　child；　experience
seemed　to　teach　him　little。　Like　the　boy　he　was　at　heart；　he　was
perfectly　willing　to　make　good　resolutionsall　of　which　were
more　or　less　theoretical　and　left　to　a　kindly　Providence　to　keep
intact　for　him。

So　here　he　was；　after　we　had　pried　him　loose　from　his　last
predicament；　perfectly　optimistic　under　his　fresh　haircut；　and
thinking　the　traffic　cops　would　not　remember　him。　　Thinking；
tooas　he　confided　to　the　Little　Womanthat　Los　Angeles　looked
pretty　good；　after　all。　He　was　resolved　to　lead　henceforth　a
blameless　life。　It　was　time　he　settled　down；　Casey　declared
virtuously。　　His　last　trip　into　the　desert　was　all　wrong；　and　he
wanted　you　to　ask　anybody　if　Casey　Ryan　wasn't　ready　at　any　and
all　times　to　admit　his　mistakes；　if　he　ever　happened　to　make　any。　
He　was　starting　in　fresh　now；　with　a　new　deal　all　around　from　a
new　deck。　　He　had　got　up　and　walked　around　his　chair；　he　told　us；
and　had　thrown　the　ash　of　a　left…handed　cigarette　over　his　right
shoulder；　he'd　show　the　world　that　Casey　Ryan　could　and　would
keep　out　of　gunshot　of　trouble。

He　was　rehearsing　all　this　and　feeling　very　self…righteous　while
he　drove　down　West　Washington　Street。　　True；　he　was　doing
twenty…five　where　he　shouldn't；　but　so　far　no　officer　had　yelled
at　him　and　he　hadn't　so　much　as　barked　a　fender。　　Down　across
Grand　Avenue　he　larruped；　never　noticing　the　terrific　bounce　when
he　crossed　the　water　drains　there　（being　still　fresh　from　desert
roads）。　　He　was　still　doing　twenty…five　when　he　turned　into　Hill
Street。

Busy　with　his　good　resolutions　and　the　blameless　life　he　was
about　to　lead；　Casey　forgot　to　signal　the　left…hand　turn。　　In　the
desert　you　don't　signal；　because　the　nearest　car　is　probably
forty　or　fifty　miles　behind　you　and　collisions　are　not　imminent。　
West…　Washington…and…Hill…Street　crossing　is　not　desert；　however。
A　car　was　coming　behind　Casey　much　closer　than　fifty　miles；　one
of　those　scuttling　Ford　delivery　trucks。　　It　locked　fenders　with
Casey　when　he　swung　to　the　left。　　The　two　cars　skidded　as　one
toward　the　right…hand　curb；　caught　amidships　a　bright　yellow；
torpedo…tailed　runabout　coming　up　from　Main　Street；　and　turned　it
neatly　on　its　back；　its　four　wheels　spinning　helplessly　in　the
quiet；　sunny　morning。　　Casey　himself　was　catapulted　over　the
runabout；　landing　abruptly　in　a　sitting　position　on　the　corner　of
the　vacant　lot　beyond；　his　self…righteousness　considerably
jarred。

A　new　traffic　officer　had　been　detailed　to　watch　that
intersection　and　teach　a　driving　world　that　it　must　not　cut
corners。　　A　bright；　new　traffic　button　had　been　placed　in　the
geographical　center　of　the　crossing；　and　woe　be　unto　the
right…hand　pocket　of　any　man　who　failed　to　drive　circumspectly
around　it。　　New　traffic　officers　are　apt　to　be　keenly
conscientious　in　their　work。　　At　twenty…five　dollars　per　cut；
sixteen　unhappy　drivers　had　been　taught　where　the　new　button　was
located　and　had　been　informed　that　twelve　miles　per　hour　at　that
crossing　would　be　tolerated；　and　that　more　would　be　expensive。

Not　all　drivers　take　their　teaching　meekly；　and　the　new　traffic
officer　near　the　end　of　his　shift　had　pessimistically　decided
that　the　driving　world　is　composed　mostly　of　blamed　idiots　and
hardened　criminals。

He　gritted　his　teeth　ominously　when　Casey　Ryan　came　down　upon　the
crossing　at　double　the　legal　speed。　　He　held　his　breath　for　an
instant　during　the　crash　that　resounded　for　blocks。　　When　the
dust　had　settled；　he　ran　over　and　yanked　off　the　dented　sand　of
the　vacant　lot　a　dazed　and　hardened　malefactor　who　had　committed
three　traffic　crimes　in　three　seconds：　he　had　exceeded　the　speed
limit　outrageously；　cut　fifteen　feet　inside　the　red　button；　and
failed　to　signal　the　turn。

〃You　damned；　drunken　boob！〃　shouted　the　new　traffic　cop　and　shook
Casey　Ryan　（not　knowing　him）。

Shaking　Casey　will　never　be　safe　until　he　is　in　his　coffin　with　a
lily　in　his　hand。　　He　was　cons