demning and issuing orders and threatening, but by the exercise
of her sweet womanly personality; for there was not a man of them but
loved her and fairly worshiped at her shrine.

CHAPTER XX

DRUMMOND'S PASSENGER

The summer progressed, and great changes were wrought on the desert.
To the last soul Ragtown moved from its first location into the
hospitable arms of Mr. Tweet--but Tweet's hospitality demanded its
price. Outfit after outfit came crawling across the desert to pitch
camp somewhere along the line and begin its portion of the big work in
band. There was a post office at Ragtown, twenty or more saloons,
dance halls and gambling dens combined, restaurants, tent hotels,
stores, and even a bank and a motion-picture show. Thousands of rough,
hard-drinking, hard-fighting men thronged the mushroom town, and it
resembled a mining town of California's early days. Miners and
cattlemen, too, made the town headquarters, and there were frequent
fights and an occasional shooting scrape. The cost of everything was
high. Money flowed freely, as did bootleg jackass brandy. It seemed
that the prohibition enforcement officers had been unable to locate the
infant town. The rough, unrestrained life of the frontier was rife at
Ragtown, and Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet gleaned shekels right and left.

Jerkline Jo had not seen Al Drummond to speak with him after the fight.
He had been laid up for a week from the terrible battering that Hiram
had given him, and when he was about again he left the country in his
touring car.

His drivers continued to transport freight to the new Ragtown and to
certain independent contractors who had reached the work. In truth, it
developed that there was plenty of hauling to keep both outfits busy,
and Jerkline Jo was making money hand over fist, as was every one who
had services to offer or something to sell.

Tehachapi Hank no longer stood like an ogre guarding the portals to the
mountain pass. Drummond had been beaten on that deal, and the gunman's
removal was an admission of defeat. Consequently, Tweet exacted no
charge for the trucks to cross his ranch. Things were running smoothly
between the two freighting enterprises, and Jerkline Jo hoped against
hope that there would be no more trouble. But she had not liked the
baleful look in Drummond's eye when she caught it on the street in
Ragtown one evening. It was plain that he considered great humiliation
had been heaped upon