Читать книгу The Spoilers of the Valley - Robert Watson - Страница 20

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Jim Langford was waiting for Phil at Mrs. Clunie’s.

“Where the Sam Hill have you been, Phil? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Got a job yet?”

“No,––not even the scent of one!”

“Want one?”

“You bet!”

“Hard work and start to-morrow?”

“Sure thing! Where is it? what is it? who is it? Tell me quick! I’m aching to work for real money, for more reasons than one.”

“Royce Pederstone, the blacksmith, is quitting being an active blacksmith any more. He is putting Wildman Hanson in charge, and Hanson’s job is going a-begging.”

“Wildman Hanson! That sounds good for a start, Jim.”

“And it’s as good as it sounds, too, young fellow, my lad. I’m not going to tell you anything about his ‘wildman’ tricks. You’ll find that out for yourself in good time. But he’s a crackerjack blacksmith and can show you all of the trade that is worth showing.”

“I haven’t the strength to be a smith.”

“Not now;––but you have the frame and you’ve got to build on it.

“The job’s worth twenty dollars a week to start, and it’s yours for the taking. I did the asking from Hanson this morning. Are you on?”

75

“Of course I’m on.”

“All right!––six o’clock to-morrow morning at Pederstone’s shop, one block down the hill and two blocks to the left.”

Langford chuckled.

“What are you grinning at?” asked Phil.

“Oh,––just thinking what you’ll be able to do with that rusty-headed, son-of-a-gun McGregor after a month or two under Hanson.”

“Thanks! I’ve had some McGregor, and I’m not greedy. I’m not at all anxious for more.”

“What? See here, Phil,––you’ve got to beat that lobster stiff if it takes you a year. It took me all I knew to turn the trick, and I had to keep off drink for six months to do it, but there was something inside of me that just wouldn’t stay quiet till I licked the stuffing out of him. He’s a bully. He’s the craftiest, sneakiest, most underhand skunk in the Valley. He’s at the bottom of most of the trouble with cattle and feed hereabout, but he’s too damned wary to be caught.

“I’m surprised at the Mayor having anything to do with him. But, of course, the Mayor’s a cattleman himself, and, give Rob Roy McGregor his due, there isn’t a better man on stock this side of Calgary.”

“And I’ve to go blacksmithing with the set purpose of eating this fellow up?”

“No, you’re going blacksmithing for the purpose of setting yourself up, you rickle of bones! Licking McGregor can be your side line. When you beat him, you’ll know you are in pretty good shape.”

“All right,––I’m on!” agreed Phil. “But who is this Royce Pederstone? Why is he giving up his work?”

“Who? why? and wherefore? At times you’re a regular bairn for asking questions, but when you’re wanted to talk you’re as silent as the tomb.