The Wag-Lady Page #4

"The Wag-Lady" by Rex Ellingwood Beach is a novel that revolves around the life of a spirited and independent woman who navigates the complexities of love, ambition, and societal expectations. Set against a vivid backdrop, the story explores themes of romance and personal growth as the protagonist deals with the challenges of her unconventional lifestyle while pursuing her dreams. Beach's engaging narrative and rich character development provide readers with a glimpse into the struggles and triumphs of the human experience, all infused with wit and charm.

• Short story

								

panic-stricken. June took pneumonia! The Scrap Iron Kid brought the
first news of her illness, and he blubbered like a baby, while Dummy,
the woman-hater, cursed like a man bereft.

"How d'you know it's pneumonia?" queried Thomasville.

"The doc says so. Me 'n' George dropped in with some beefsteaks we
copped from the butcher, and found her in bed, coughing like the devil.
She couldn't get up--pains in her boosum. We run for Doc Whiting
and--fellers, it's true! George is there now." The Kid swallowed
bravely, and two tears rolled down his cheeks.

The Wag-boys broke out of their cabin on the run, then strung out down
the snow-banked street toward June's cabin, where they found Dr.
Whiting, very grave, and Llewellyn with his face blanched and his lips
tight drawn. They tiptoed in and stood against the wall in a silent,
stricken row, twirling their caps and trying to ease the pain in their
throats.

The Wag-lady was indeed very ill. Her yellow hair was tumbled over her
pillow and she was in great pain, but she smiled at them and made a
feeble jest--which broke in her throat, for she was young and all alone
and very badly frightened. It was too much for the Scrap Iron Kid, who
stumbled out into the freezing night and fought with his misery. He
tried to pray, but from long inexperience he fancied he made bad work of
it.

An hour later they assembled and laid plans to weather the storm.

"She's worried about her hotel," Llewellyn announced. "If that was off
her mind she'd have a better chance."

"Let's manage it for her," the Dummy offered. "I'll watch it to-night."

"An' who'll watch you?" queried the Kid.

"D'you reckon I'd run out on a pal like June?" stormed the Dummy,
whereat Scrap Iron assured him he was positive that he would not, for
the very good reason that he and Reddy would take care that no
opportunity offered.

"You run the joint like you say, an' we'll lookout her game for her;
then to-morrow night the other three can do it. We'll take turn an' turn
about, an' them that's off shift will nurse her. I've been thinkin'
now--if only we knowed something about women folks--"

"I been married once or twice, if that's any good," Thomasville ventured
to confess; whereupon he was elected head nurse by virtue of his
experience, and accordingly they went to work.

Dr. Whiting had promised to secure a woman to care for the sick girl,
but women were scarce that winter and he was only partly successful, so
the greater portion of the responsibility fell upon the Wags. He also
spoke of removing June to the excuse for a hospital, but they would not
hear to this. And so the battle for her life began.

It was a battle, too, for she grew rapidly worse and soon was delirious,
babbling of strange things which tore at the hearts of the Wag-boys. Day
after day, night after night, she lay racked and tortured, fighting the
brave fight of youth, and through it all the six thieves tended her.
They were ever at her side, coming and going like the wraiths of her
distorted fancy, and while three of them divided the day into watches
the other three ran the bunk-house, keeping strict account of every
penny taken in. They O. K.'d one another's books, and it would have
fared badly indeed with any one of them had he allowed the least
discrepancy to appear in his reckoning.

It was a strange scene, this, a sick and friendless girl mothered by a
gang of crooks. When June's condition improved they rejoiced with a deep
ferocity that was pitiful; when it grew worse they went about hushed and
terror-stricken. Through it all she called incessantly for Harry Hope,
and it was Llewellyn who finally volunteered to go to Council City and
fetch him--an offer that showed the others he was game.

But before the weather had settled sufficiently to allow it, Hope came.
He arrived one night in a blinding smother which whined down over the
treeless wastes, driving men indoors before its fury. Hearing of June's
illness, he had taken the trail within an hour, fighting his way for a
hundred trackless miles through a blizzard that daunted even a Wag-boy,
and he showed the marks of battle. His face was bitten deeply by the
cold, his dogs were dying in the harness, and it was evident that he had
not slept for many hours. He whimpered like a child when Llewellyn met
him at June's door; then he heard her wearily babbling his name, as she
had done these many, many days, and he went in, kneeling beside her with
his frozen breath still caked upon his parka hood.

Llewellyn stood by and heard him tenderly calling to the wandering girl,
saw the peace that came into her face as something told her he was near;
then the Wag-boy who had once been a gentleman came forward and gave
Hope his hand, and thanked him for his coming.

June began to mend after that, and it was not long before Whiting said
she might recover if she had proper food. She would, however, need
nourishment--milk; but there was only one cow in camp, and other sick
people, and not sufficient milk to go round. The Wag-boys lumped their
bank-rolls and offered to buy the animal from its owner, but he refused.
So they stole the cow and all her fodder.

Now it is no difficult matter to steal a cow, even in a mining-camp in
the dead of winter, but it is not nearly so easy for a cow to remain
stolen under such conditions, and the Wags were hard put to prevent
discovery. It would have been far easier, they realized, to steal a
two-story brick house or a printing-office, and then, too, not one of
them knew how to secure the milk even after they had gained the cow's
consent. They made various experiments, however, one of which resulted
in Reddy's having the breath rammed out of him, and another causing
Thomasville to adopt crutches for a day or so. But eventually June got
her milk, a gallon of it daily. Every night or two the cow had to be
moved, every day they gagged her to muffle her voice. Then, when
discovery was imminent, they made terms of surrender, exacting
twenty-five per cent. of the gross output as the consideration for her
return.

They breathed much easier when the cow was off their hands.

Spring was in sight when June became strong enough to take up her
duties, and she was surprised to find her hotel running as usual, also a
flour-sack full of currency beneath her bed, together with a set of
books showing her receipts. It was signed by Llewellyn and witnessed by
the other Wags. There was no record of disbursements.

One day Whiting advised her to get out in the air, and the Scrap Iron
Kid volunteered to take her for a dog ride.

"I didn't know you had a team," she said.

"Who? Me? Sure! I got as good a team as ever you see," he declared, and
when she accepted his invitation he proceeded to get his dogs together
in a startling manner. He tied a soup-bone on a string and walked the
back streets; then, when he beheld a likely-looking husky, he dragged
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