The Dude Wrangler

by Caroline Lockhart

  CHAPTER XII

  THE WATER WITCH

  In former days Wallie had wished for a yacht, his own stables, and suchluxuries, but now he wanted a well with far greater intensity than hehad desired those extravagances.

  The all-important question had been whether he could at present affordit, with his money vanishing like a belated snowbank. Then, while he hadbeen debating, Rufus Reed appeared at such a timely moment that it hadseemed providential.

  Mr. Reed, lately arrived from Illinois, was now sitting with his feet onthe stove-hearth and so close to the coals that the cabin was strongwith the odour of frying rubber, and declaring modestly:

  "I may say, without braggin', that I have made an enormous success sinceI gave up my flour and feed store and took to well-diggin' as aperfession. By acci-dent I discovered that I was peculiarly gifted."

  Watching the smoke rising from Rufus's arctics and speculating as towhat might be the composition of his soles that he could endure so muchheat without discomfort, Wallie inquired politely:

  "In what way, may I ask?"

  Mr. Reed's tone became impressive:

  "I am--a water witch."

  Wallie looked puzzled.

  "Some call it magic, but the fact is, I am able to locate water with aforked willer and you can call it anything you want to."

  Wallie regarded the worker of miracles with fresh attention. His beliefin his own powers was evidently so sincere that even a skeptic could notfail to be impressed by him.

  He continued:

  "With my divinin' rod I have flew in the faces of the biggest geologistsin the country and found water where they said there wasn't any."

  "Will the divining rod tell you how far you must dig for it?"

  "Pretty close to it. I count a foot to every bob of the willer."

  "In a state like Illinois where there is a great deal of moisture Ipresume it would be possible to get water anywhere if one went deepenough, but in Wyoming--frankly, I should not like to rely on thedivining rod in Wyoming, Mr. Reed."

  Mr. Reed looked somewhat offended and declared with spirit:

  "I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll make you a sportin' proposition. I'lltest the ground with the willer and if it says we'll get water at acertain depth and we don't strike it, I'll dig till we do, for nothin',if we have to go till we hear the Chinamen gibber. That's fair, ain'tit?"

  Wallie could not gainsay it.

  "I got a willer on my saddle and it won't cost nothin' for ademonstration. Say the word," persuasively, "and you've good as got afine, flowing well of water."

  It would do no harm to let the water witch make his test, Walliedecided, so he followed sheepishly in the wake of Rufus and his willowas he walked over the greater part of the one hundred and sixty acres.

  "'Tain't nowise plentiful," the latter admitted, as with each handgripping a prong of the willow he kept his eyes fixed upon it. "But ifit's here I'm bound to find it, so don't get discouraged."

  Expecting nothing, Wallie was not disappointed.

  At the top of a draw some hundred and fifty yards from the cabin Rufussuddenly halted.

  "I felt somethin'," he said, hopefully.

  "Where?" Wallie asked, interested.

  "In my arm--like pins and needles--it's a symptom. She's goin' to bob!"Excitedly. "You watch and count along of me."

  The willow bobbed unmistakably.

  "Sixty-eight!" They finished together.

  "I told you!" Rufus cried, triumphantly. He stamped his foot: "Righthere is where you'll strike it." His tone was as positive as if he sawit flowing beneath the surface.

  Impressed in spite of himself, Wallie endeavoured to be conservative.

  "Could it have been your subconscious mind?" he asked, doubtfully.

  "I ain't any. Rufus Reed is right out in the open. I'll stake myreputation there's plenty of water if you'll go after it."

  "It's rather far from the house for convenience," he objected.

  "Water in Wyoming is like whiskey, you have to take it where you can getit and not be particular."

  It was a temptation, and the cost at three dollars a foot was notexcessive. Wallie pondered it and said finally:

  "You will agree in writing to dig without remuneration until you getwater if you do not strike it at sixty-eight feet?"

  "An iron-clad contract will suit yours truly," Mr. Reed declared,emphatically. He added: "I'll bring two men to work the h'ist and emptythe bucket. Of course you'd aim to board us?"

  "Why, yes, I can," Wallie said a little uncertainly. He had not thoughtof that feature, but he realized it would be necessary.

  He had figured that with strict economy he had provisions enough to lasthim well toward summer. Three men eating three meals daily might makesome difference in his calculations, but nothing serious probably.

  So the contract was drawn up and signed and Rufus departed, eminentlysatisfied, as was Wallie, who was so eager to see his well started thathe could hardly wait until the following Monday.

  In the interim he dreamed of his well of cold, pure water, and everytime he made use of his "toe-holts" he told himself that thatinconvenience would soon be eliminated. He meant to have a windmill assoon as he could afford it, for whatever else the country might lackthere was no dearth of wind for motive power.

  There was something permanent-looking about a well and he chuckled as hespeculated as to what Canby would say when he heard of it, and he wishedwith all his heart that he might be around when Helene Spenceley learnedthat he was sinking a well on his place for household and stockpurposes.

  He had taken advantage of the opportunity which the gift of the cakepresented to send her a note of thanks and appreciation. In reply he hadreceived an invitation which had stung him worse than if she had writtenthat she never wanted to see him cross her threshold.

  His eyes gleamed every time he read it, which was so often that it wasworn through the creases from being folded and unfolded:

  Dear "Gentle Annie":

  Won't you stop at the ranch on your way out and pay us a visit? I presume the middle of the summer at latest will see the last of you as I have no idea that you will be able to go through the discouragements and hardships attendant upon proving up on a homestead.

  My brother also will enjoy meeting you as he has heard so much of you.

  Looking for you soon, I am Sincerely, HELENE SPENCELEY.

  P.S. I have a new sweater pattern that I am sure will please you.

  Every word had a nettle in it, a taunt that made him tingle. It seemedto Wallie he had never known such a "catty" woman, and he meant to tellher so, some day, when he was rich and successful and had proved howwrong she was in her estimate of him.

  He was tempted to send her word, on a postal, anonymously, of the wellhe was digging if he had not feared she would suspect him. It seemed solong to wait for Pinkey to convey the tidings.

  Rufus arrived on Monday morning, and the "crew" to which he had referredproved to be members of his own family--John and Will--whales as tosize, and clownish.

  It came to Wallie's mind that if they did not move any faster when theyworked than when they were at leisure, the well-digging would be a longprocess, and his heart sank when he saw them feeding their horses soliberally from the hay which had cost $20 a ton, delivered.

  The first intimation Wallie had of what he had let himself in for waswhen Rufus asked in a confidential tone, as if he were impartingsomething for Wallie's ear only:

  "I wonder if we could get a bite to eat before we start in? We eat soearly this morning that I don't feel as if I had had anything."

  Wallie had a pan of biscuit which he had intended for dinner but heconcealed his reluctance and managed to say with a show of hospitality:

  "Come right in; I'll get you something."

  "First rate!" declared Mr. Reed with disheartening enthusiasm as Wallieplaced the
biscuit, butter, and molasses before him and his helpers.

  Wallie hoped never again to see food--his, at least--disappear with suchrapidity and in such quantities. When they had finished there was not acrumb left in the pan to tell what had been, and Rufus added to Wallie'sfeeling of apprehension by declaring gaily as he polished his mouth onthe bandanna which he drew from his hip pocket with a flourish:

  "Us Reeds are all hearty eaters. We can eat a sheep at a settin' whenwe're all together."

  Biscuit-making was Wallie's special antipathy, and he now solacedhimself with the thought that since they had eaten so many, they wouldeat less for dinner and he would have plenty of the fresh ones left forsupper.

  But disappointment was again his portion. Any hope that he might havecherished that once they were well filled up their appetites woulddiminish was dissipated by their performance at supper which surpassedthat of dinner. The manner in which the biscuits vanished was nothingless than appalling. In addition to which, he fried ham twice for themwhen they hinted that they were still hungry after devouring everythingbefore them.

  He thought grimly that if their capacity for work was commensurate withtheir appetites, the well would be dug in twenty-four hours. But afterobserving them in "action" through the window he had a notion that hewould have considerable more than that of their society.

  As they all sprawled on his bunk in a torpor while he washed theirsupper dishes, he felt not only consternation but a dislike for the Reedfamily growing within him. Long after they were snoring in theirblankets, he lay awake calculating how long his provisions would last atsuch a rate of depletion.

  It did not sound so much of a "sporting proposition" as when Rufus hadmade his proposal, and Wallie sighed in the darkness as he thought thatthere seemed a million ways of making mistakes in Wyoming and thisalready had the earmarks of being one of them.

  If they found water at the depth indicated by the divining rod, it mightnot so much matter, but there was the other contingency confrontinghim--feeding the Reeds indefinitely! There was nothing to do in thecircumstances but await developments, so Wallie slept finally to dreamthat he had discarded the table for a trough to which the Reeds camewhen he went to the door and called: "Soo-ee! Soo-ee!"

  The developments, however, were not of an encouraging nature. Inaddition to a capacity for food which placed the Reeds among the world'smarvels they were of a slowness of movement Wallie never had seenequalled. Whenever he looked through the window, it was to see one orthe other resting from the exertion of emptying a bucket of dirt orturning the windlass.

  The well deepened by inches rather than feet while Wallie sweated, andhis suspicion gradually became a conviction as he watched them that theywere prolonging the work purposely. It seemed to be in the nature of avacation for them with just enough exercise to keep them in condition.

  His antipathy had become aversion, and Wallie sometimes caught himselfwith his fork poised in mid air, stopping to hate John, who munched andsmacked beside him, or Will, who gobbled at the end of the table, orRufus, shovelling opposite him. Again, as they came at a trot inresponse to his dinner call, he visualized himself braining them withthe axe as they entered, and found pleasure in the picture.

  If hatred generated a poison in the system as asserted, Wallie had anotion that his bite would have been as fatal as a cobra's.

  His feeling reached a point where the well became of secondaryimportance. To find a way to rid himself of the Reed family was in histhoughts constantly, but there seemed nothing to do but endure themsomehow until they had sunk the sixty-eight feet, according to thecontract, so he went on suffering and cooking with all the grace hecould muster.

  Yet as the hole deepened he could not help a certain feeling of pride init. The sense of possession was a strong trait in him, and this was_his_ well on _his_ homestead. He always felt the same pleasant glow ofownership when he looked at his cabin and his fence, even at his dry cowand his locoed horses, and once he had a well with a curb over it!Wallie always expanded his chest a little as he thought of it.

  He made frequent pilgrimages to the well, and as he hung over the edgeand called down, Rufus always replied to his inquiry:

  "I don't see any indications yet but I look for it to come with a gushwhen we do strike it."

  When they reached sixty-eight feet and there was still no sign ofmoisture Wallie told Reed that he was willing to abrogate the contract.

  "No, sir!" Rufus declared, vigorously. "I've staked my reputation onthis well and I'm goin' to keep on diggin'."

  At seventy-two feet Wallie was desperate. The hole was still as dry aspunk, and boarding the Reeds was nothing less than ruinous; besides, hewas nauseated with cooking for three persons whom he detested. Theycould not be insulted, he discovered, and were determined to make himabide by his contract to board them.

  A solution of his problem came in the night with such force andsuddenness that he rolled to and fro in his bunk, hugging himself inecstasy. He longed for morning to put his idea into execution and whenit came, for the first time since their arrival, he was delighted to seethe Reeds seating themselves at the table.

  There were potatoes, bacon, and pancakes, with coffee, for breakfast.

  John dubiously eyed the transparent fluid in his cup which might aseasily have been tea, and commented:

  "You musta left out somethin'."

  Will made a wry face after filling it with half a pancake:

  "Gosh! But you throwed in the sody. They ain't fit fer a dog to eat. Ican't go 'em."

  With the intention of taking the taste of soda out of his mouth hefilled it with potato, and immediately afterward he and John jammed inthe doorway as they tried to get through it simultaneously.

  Wiping their streaming eyes and gulping water, they said accusingly:

  "There's a can of cayenne if there's a pinch in them pertaters!"

  "And the bacon's burned to a cracklin'," observed Rufus.

  "Perhaps you're getting tired of my cooking?" Wallie suggested,artlessly.

  "I'm tired now if this is a spec'min of what you aim to feed us," Johndeclared, suspiciously. "I bleeve you done it on purpose."

  Wallie did not deny it.

  "I'm holler to the toes and I can't work on an empty stummick," saidWill, disgustedly.

  Only Rufus went on eating as if it took more than a can of soda and abox of pepper to spoil his food for him and he explained as theywondered at it:

  "I ain't no taste sence I had scarlet fever so it don't bother me."

  "Ain't you goin' to git us somethin'?" John demanded, finally, seeingWallie made no move to cook fresh food for them.

  "No," Wallie answered, bluntly. "There's nothing in the contract whichspecifies the manner in which I shall prepare your food for you or theamount of it. Dinner will be worse than breakfast if you want the truthfrom me."

  "I'm quittin'!" the two declared together.

  "Now, look here, boys!" the old man expostulated. "We got to finish thisjob and you know the reason."

  "Reason or no reason, I ain't starvin' myself to oblige nobody," Johndeclared, vigorously, "and he's got the drop on us about the eatin'."

  "Then go--the two of you!" Reed cried, angrily, "I'm goin' to stay--Iain't nothin' to complain of. Him and me," he nodded at Wallie, "can digthat well without ye."

  Surly, and without speaking, the boys took their departure.

  "They got bad dispositions--they take after their mother," Rufusremarked, looking after them. "With you to work the windlass and emptythe bucket we'll make out without them till I pick up another crewsomewhere."

  "I am willing to accept my loss and quit," Wallie pleaded.

  "Well, I ain't!" declared Rufus, unnecessarily bellicose. "A contract isa contract and I got you in writin'."

  Wallie could not deny it and subsided meekly, putting a ham on to boilwith a cabbage while Rufus smoked until he was ready to assist him.

  "If they's anything I like it's a good mess of ham and cabbage," heobserved.


  "I am glad to have found something to stimulate your appetite--it'sworried me," replied Wallie. But his sarcasm was wasted on Rufus whoarose, yawning, when Wallie indicated that he was ready.

  Turning the windlass according to instructions, Wallie deposited Rufusin the bottom. Then at intervals he hoisted the bucket which Rufusfilled in leisurely fashion, and emptied it, performing the two men'swork easily.

  Wallie went down occasionally to stoke the fire, and upon his returnreported so favourably upon the ham and cabbage that Rufus took toconsulting his watch rather frequently after ten-thirty.

  "I'll quit at 'leven," he informed Wallie, "and that'll give you plentyof time to make a batch of biscuit and get dinner."

  Wallie agreed with him that it was an excellent idea and promptly ateleven pulled up the bucket of dirt which was to be the last one.

  When it did not come down immediately, Rufus called to him:

  "Hi! I'm ready! Get a move on, for I'm starvin'."

  There was no response at the opening.

  "What's the matter with you?" he demanded, impatiently.

  The echo of his own voice answered him. Slightly alarmed he calledlouder:

  "Macpherson! What's happened to ye?"

  Still no answer.

  Distinctly nervous, Rufus shouted at the top of his lungs for Wallieand the bucket, breaking into a perspiration at the continued silence.

  Was he sick? Fainted? Dead? Many things that could occur came to Reed ashe halloed futilely.

  When one o'clock came he was hoarse from yelling and sick with fear athis predicament. His imagination painted gruesome pictures as hesweated. He saw himself weak and emaciated, dying slowly of starvation,collapsing, finally to lie undiscovered for days, weeks maybe. Thememory of a field mouse that had fallen into a pit haunted him, itsfutile, frantic struggles to scale the steep sides, and he rememberedthat when he had passed that way again he had looked and found it deadin the bottom. He wished now that he had rescued it.

  His suffering would be worse than that of the field mouse, for he hadthe intelligence to know that it was useless to struggle, that there wasno hope for him unless someone came to his assistance. And mercifulheavens, how hungry he was at only an hour past his dinner time; whatwould his sensations be at an hour past his supper time or at oneo'clock to-morrow? He made a sound like someone groaning in a rainbarrel as he thought of the ham and cabbage boiling dry in the cabin.

  It made the back of his neck ache to watch the opening of his prison andthe patch of blue sky, from which he prayed, vaguely, that a rope laddermight descend to rescue him. So he sat down finally with his backagainst the side of the well, his knees to his chin, and his head bowed,to await the inevitable.

  When three o'clock came he could no longer doubt but that some accidenthad befallen Wallie. He had given up hope and endeavoured to resignhimself to the fate awaiting him. Remorse mingled with the pangs ofhunger and the cold fear of dying which was upon him. He wondered ifthis torturing end was a judgment sent upon him. He could scarcely doubtit.

  But if by some miracle he got out--if the Lord saw fit to save him--hewould be a different man. The Almighty had his word for it. Stillsitting with his back against the wall and his cramped legs extended infront of him, Rufus rolled his eyes in supplication to the circular bluespace above him and registered this vow with all the fervour andsincerity of which he was capable.

  He moved uneasily. He was vaguely conscious of a dampness. He feltmechanically of that section of his overalls upon which he was sitting.He sprang to his feet with an exclamation and looked at the spot he hadoccupied. Moisture! A seepage! Water! His eyes grew big with horror.Even as he looked with dilating pupils he could see the earth darkenwith the spreading moisture. He had sunk too many wells not to know whatit portended. Not only his days but his hours perhaps were numbered. Ifit was alkali, it would seep in slowly and prolong his agony, if it werenot, it would come faster. He would die literally in a grave of his owndigging.

  He sat down again because his shaking legs refused to support him, andleaned his head against the side for the same reason. Rufus was no heroand there was no need to pretend to be, drowning by himself like a ratin a bucket.

  As he leaned there, nauseated, he caught a sound, or thought so, whichincreased the sinking sensation, the feeling of collapse thatoverwhelmed him. He took off his hat and laid his ear against the wallto be sure of it. He had not been mistaken. His time on earth wasshorter even than he had imagined. The sound he had heard was the rumbleof a subterranean current that would soon break through, flowing fasterand faster as the opening enlarged until it came with a gush, finally.He could visualize it because he had seen it happen. It would rise tohis ankles, his knees, his armpits, then cover him, and he would go tohis final punishment by the last route he ever had pictured!

  Rufus got on his knees in an attitude of prayer and supplication. Thecracked remnants of his stentorian voice he used to the utmostadvantage. No Methodist exhorter ever prayed with more passionatefervour, and he could not in a lifetime have kept the promises he madeto his Maker if only He would release him from the trap into which hehad gotten himself through his own evil doing.

  "Lord, it was wrong for me to take that $150, but Canby tempted me. Ineeded the money or I don't know as I would have done it. If You'll jestget me out of this, Lord, all the rest of my life I'll do what I can forYou! I'll go to church--I'll give to the heathen--I'll stop takin' Yourname in vain, and say my prayers reg'lar! Oh, Lord! Once I stole ahalter and I ask Your forgiveness. And I left a neighbour's gate open onpurpose so the stock got into his cornfield, but I ain't a bad mannaturally, and this is the first real crookedness I ever doneintentionally. Lord," he pleaded, "hear my humble prayer and sendsomebody!"

  At the top of the well Wallie had his suspicions verified. So Canby hadlaid one more straw on the camel's back to break it!

  Any compunctions of conscience he might have had for putting Rufusthrough such mental anguish vanished.

  Leaning over the edge of the well, he called down cheerily:

  "How you making it?"

  Wallie's voice sounded like the voice of an angel to the prisoner.Relief and joy beyond description filled him. Hoarse as a bullfrog, hequavered:

  "In Mercy's name let me out of here, Macpherson!"

  "You're all right where you are, Rufus," Wallie answered. "When you'redown there you are out of mischief."

  "I'm hungry--I'm starvin'----"

  "I don't know when I've eaten such a ham, tender, a delicious flavour,and just enough fat on it--I thought of you all through dinner, Rufus."

  "We've struck water--a big flow--I can hear it--it'll break through anyminute!"

  "That's fine! Splendid!"

  "You don't understand!" Rufus cried, desperately. "I'm liable to bedrowned before you can h'ist me out of here. I can heard it roar--like acloudburst!"

  "Tell me about that deal between you and Canby," Wallie suggested.

  "Let down the bucket!" Rufus chattered.

  "Couldn't think of it. My eyeteeth are coming through and I don't liketo interrupt 'em."

  "I'll make a clean breast of it."

  "I don't want to pollute my well unless I have to, but that's the onlyway you'll get out of there," Wallie told him, grimly.

  "Canby's out to break you in one way and another. He thought there wasno water over here and he paid me to talk you into diggin' for it. Heseen me and my boys eat one day in the mess house and he said 'twouldbreak the Bank of England to board us, so he wanted that clause in thecontract, and after sixty-eight feet he paid us, besides a hundred andfifty dollars bonus. I done wrong, Mr. Macpherson, and I freely admitit!"

  "And you like my cooking, Rufus? You like your food highly seasoned withplenty of soda in the pancakes and dough-goods?"

  "Yes, Mr. Macpherson," whined Rufus. "I never complained about yourcookin', I've nothin' against you personal, and I'll knock off somethin'on the bill for bringin' in water if you'll jest let down that----" Ascreech finished
the sentence. Then:

  "C-r-rr-ripes! She's busted through! She's comin' like a river!"

  He jumped and clawed at the sides in his frenzy, and Wallie could seethat Rufus well might do so, for even as Wallie looked the water rushedin and rose to Rufus's ankles, and before he could get the bucket overthe edge and started downward it was well to his knees, bubbling fasterwith every second as the opening widened.

  It was indeed time for action, and Wallie himself felt relief when thewindlass spun and he heard the splash of the bucket in the bottom.

  Rufus's shrieks urged haste as he began to wind laboriously, and withreason, for Rufus was heavy and though Wallie put forth all his strengthit was no easy task single-handed, and Rufus rose so slowly that thewater gained rapidly.

  It became a race between Wallie and the subterranean stream that hadbeen tapped, and he was panting and all but exhausted when Rufus rose tothe surface. As he stepped from the bucket the water reached the top,poured over the edge, and rushed down the "draw" to Skull Creek.

  Wallie looked with bulging eyes for a moment and when he had recoveredfrom his astonishment, he turned joyfully, his grudge forgotten, andshook Rufus's hand in congratulation.

  A moment later his enthusiasm was tempered somewhat by the discoverythat he had brought to the surface the strongest flow of salt water inthe country!