The Dude Ranger

by Zane Grey

  “Read it, Ernest, but not now. First let’s see what’s in Dad’s book.”

  “No. It might make you unhappy,” returned Ernest, replacing both letter and book in his pocket. “That can wait.”

  “Ernest, I’m a thief, too,” confessed Anne boldly.

  “How so?”

  “Dad entrusted to me that wallet of money he drew from the bank last time he was in town. When he leaves the house he always does that–well, we had to have money. So I fetched it with me.”

  “Anne, you stole for me!”

  “I shore did. It hurts now that you’re not a fugitive from the law. I reckon I’ll have to return it to Dad–even though I feel I ought to keep it for the new owner of Red Rock, when he comes. He’d probably reward me, Ernest. And you and I must have rough money to get away with. We cain’t stay heah.”

  “I’m not sure what we can do. Where’s that wallet, Anne?”

  “In my bag.”

  “I’ll get it,” decided Ernest with alacrity, and disengaging himself from Anne he left the room to cross the hall into their room. His fingers were not steady as he opened Anne’s bag. What a complication of events! He found a large leather wallet, so full that it appeared about to burst. Ernest could not resist opening it far enough to see if the contents really were money. His eyes popped. Closing the wallet he raced with it back to Anne, scarcely thinking to conceal his exultancy.

  “I declare, Anne, this is great,” he said, waving the wallet. “Ernest, are you going to give in to temptation?” she queried, with grave concern. “Even if Dad has been dishonest that’s no reason for us to be. Because I stole the money. And if you make me keep it you’ll be dishonest too.”

  “What’ll we do, darling?” he asked, boldly, realizing that here was the supreme test of Anne Hepford. “I gave my last dollar to marry you. We’ll have a long hard fight before we can have a home–and all the things you’re accustomed to.”

  “Ernest! You frighten me . . . . I’d have been glad to spend it– every dollar–to save your life–or a long term in jail. But you’re free. We’re both young, strong, and we’ve got brains. We won’t steal, Ernest. But we might fairly put that money away–in the bank–for its rightful owner.”

  Ernest shouted out loud in his gladness, and his antics opened Anne’s eyes wide. “Are you plain loco, boy?”

  “I’m just so glad I’ll–I’ll burst. You can’t understand how I feel. But that you’d steal to save me and won’t steal to make us rich–what can I say! You’re wonderful.”

  “Am I? Love is blind, Ernest. . . . Put that wallet away before Nebraskie and Daisy come back.”

  Ernest had difficulty in stuffing it into his inside coat pocket, and then it bulged noticeably. “Lordy, I can’t wait to count it.”

  “I did,” laughed Anne.

  “How much is here?”

  “Guess.”

  “Several thousand, I’m sure.”

  “Do you think a big rancher makes so much over a little money as that? Ernest, there’s over forty thousand dollars in that wallet!”

  Selby sat down suddenly, his eyes popping.

  “No!”

  “Shore is. Well count it again when we’re alone. I don’t know if it’s a good idea, though. You might–”

  A knock on the door interrupted them.

  “That you, Nebraskie? Come in,” shouted Ernest gaily.

  The door opened, to admit the lanky cowboy and Daisy. They were all eyes.

  “Wal, Anne, you come to fine, I’m glad to see. An’ say, pard, what’s eatin’ you?”

  “Starvation. Is the dinner near ready?”

  “You bet. An’ it’s gonna be a humdinger. Come on. Let’s forget our troubles.”

  Notwithstanding Nebraskie’s enthusiasm, and a bountiful spread by the landlady, the dinner was not a marked success. Ernest, despite his assertion that he was starved, had to force himself to eat. And the girls were evidently too excited to be hungry. Conversation lagged.

  “Wal,” drawled Nebraskie, “you gurls shore hev long faces an’ dewy eyes. What’s the matter? There ain’t nuthin’ wrong. If what people say is true–thet the consummashun of women’s happiness is gettin’ married–you both ought to be tumble full of joy.”

  “I am, Nebraskie,” declared Anne, smiling through her tears. “But it’s a little too soon–right now.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” retorted Daisy, giving her husband a disapproving look. “How can we be gay?”

  “Ioway, let’s you an’ me celebrate,” said the cowboy, turning to Ernest. “Mebbe if we got ourselves good an’ drunk our wives would lose their glum faces, anyhow.”

  “It’s no laughing matter, Nebraskie,” declared Ernest. “You’re only bluffing. Deep down in your gizzard you’ve got bridegroom jitters yourself.”

  At the conclusion of the dinner, Ernest suggested that they go on toward Holbrook. There were still several hours of daylight. They could drive until late and stop at some ranch house; then get into town by noon next day.

  “Wha-at?” demanded Nebraskie. “Sleep in some stall or haymow–on the first night of our honeymoon–when we could stay at this heah nice quiet hotel?”

  “Be reasonable, pard. To be sure it’s our honeymoon, but you’ll allow, no ordinary one,” protested Ernest.

  “Ioway, I been dreamin’ an prayin’ fer this ever since I laid eyes on Dais,” protested the cowboy, in his turn.

  “Nebraskie, I’ve entertained something of the same hope ever since I saw Anne,” went on Ernest, with a laugh at the evident embarrassment of the two brides. “Listen now, you Romeo. There are some things to settle up before we start on this honeymoon.”

  “What, fer instance?”

  “Well, this late escapade of yours–ridding Red Rock of a very undesirable individual. And looking out for new jobs to come back to–after our honeymoon. Let’s go on to Holbrook, then back to Red Rock, and then, after everything is fixed up fine, have our honeymoon.”

  “The four of us?” asked Daisy eagerly, her dark eyes shining. “Oh, I’d love that.”

  “It does sound nice. I–I believe I approve,” added Anne, who evidently wanted to help Ernest, but was not completely sure he was not out of his mind.

  Nebraskie stared hard at his friend.

  “We might even raise money enough to go to California,” went on Ernest, trying to be casual.

  “Wal, pard, now I savvy what turned Anne’s haid. It’s your silver tongue,” burst out Nebraskie, in admiration mixed with wistfulness. “My Gawd, I wisht we could. But I’m near broke. An’ you air broke. Dais hasn’t any money. Have you, Anne?”

  “I reckon Ernest can raise some. But wouldn’t we be crazy to spend it on honeymooning, when there’s no more in sight?”

  “Shore we’d be crazy,” admitted the cowboy. “But I’d like to go thet crazy once . . . . As fer a job, Ioway, I’m goin’ to work with Dais’s father. It’ll be slow buildin’ up a payin’ ranch, but I see somethin’ shore ahead, anyway.”

  “Cowboy, the way to make money out of Brooks’ place is to irrigate, put most of the land in alfalfa, and run your cattle out on the range,” said Ernest, most businesslike.

  “I’m a son-of-a-gun,” ejaculated Nebraskie. “Never thought of thet. Neither did Sam. Ioway, you’re not such a dunce at thet. It’s a darn good idee.”

  Anne was so pleased with Ernest’s sound ideas that her face grew tender.

  “It is indeed,” she said. “That is precisely what Dad meant to do with the farm, when he’d driven Brooks off.”

  “Oh, I’ll be a rancher someday,” said Ernest, laconically. “How could I help it, with such a wife? . . . Well, Nebraskie, shall we forego our honeymoon, and get to moving toward town?”

  “Shore. I reckon I’m gonna stick to you like a plaster, from now on,” rejoined Nebraskie.

  While the two were hitching up Nebraskie observed thoughtfully: “Ioway, you’re the damnedest, originalest, mysteriest, best pard I ever had.”


  Soon they were driving north on another road. They passed several ranches before dark, but after night fell they did not come to another until it was so late that Nebraskie advised not awakening the owner. They drove on to a cedar woods, where they built a fire, unhitched the horses, and made camp under a clump of cedars. They managed to keep warm, at least. Dawn came presently, and soon afterward they were traveling swiftly on the last lap of their journey. Before noon they were in Holbrook.

  20

  WHEN Ernest thought what he was going to do, now that he had arrived at Holbrook, he found himself at a loss. As he drove the buckboard up the main street he espied Nebraskie’s rig halting in front of the hotel, where several other vehicles stood. Two or three men strode across the pavement to meet Nebraskie. One of them he recognized to be Brooks.

  When Ernest hauled up beside them the ranchers broad face was wreathed in smiles. A quick glance at Nebraskie and Daisy satisfied Ernest that all was well.

  “Wal, an’ what air you doin’ heah?” queried Brooks in surprise.

  “I’ve been getting married, Sam,” replied Ernest happily. “Nebraskie hasn’t got a corner on all the girls.”

  “Fer the land’s sake!” exploded the rancher, throwing up his hands. “You ain’t gone an’ married Anne Hepford?”

  “I should think one look at her would be sufficient to convince you,” replied the Iowan blandly.

  It would have been, but Brooks took more than one. “Wal, I’ll be doggoned!... Howard, you’re a lucky cuss. As for you Anne, wal, I reckon, if looks count much you’re as happy as you air lucky. Bless you both.”

  “Tell me pronto. How’s Hawk?” interrupted Ernest.

  “He’s all right. Little lame in his shoulder, but nothin’ serious for a tough customer like him. I’m pickin’ him up at Babbitt’s. We’re drivin’ off right away. Jest almost missed you.”

  “Then–there’s no–no trouble ahead for Nebraskie?”

  “Nope. None in the least. Siebert an’ me fixed thet. The sheriff drove out this mawnin’ fer Red Rock. We’re to meet him there.”

  “Well!” ejaculated Ernest with a deep sigh of relief.

  Brooks turned to Nebraskie: “I reckon, son, you’d better go along with us.”

  “Shore, Sam. Well hev somethin’ to eat, an’ ketch up with you.”

  “I’ll stop at Miller’s.”

  Ernest leaped at a solution to his problem. “Anne, you go along with Daisy and Nebraskie. I’ll follow as quickly as–”

  “See heah,” exploded Nebraskie. “Ain’t we gonna ever hev any honeymoon at all?”

  “Leave that to me,” retorted the Iowan, laughing.

  “Wal, all right, if you’ll promise thet after the fuss an’ funeral are over well go off somewhere an’ be happy fer a coupla days anyhow.”

  “I promise, Nebraskie.”

  “Darling, for a brand new married man, you seem rather anxious to get rid of your wife,” interposed Anne, her large eyes studying him quizzically.

  “It does look a little that way,” rejoined Ernest, laughing. “But, dearest, I imagine your father will not take our marriage as calmly as Daisy’s father did hers. Wouldn’t it be better for you to see him first?”

  “Yes, it shore would,” replied Anne, a little grimly. “But you forget. Whatll I say aboot the money?”

  “Oh!” Ernest certainly had to think hard. “Anne, you must pretend surprise at its absence. Then–when I come down I’ll explain.”

  Anne gazed at him dubiously, but his frankness disarmed her for the moment.

  “Very well. I–I reckon you’re right,” she conceded thought-fully. “I don’t want to stay heah an hour longer than necessary, with that storm hanging over my haid.”

  Ernest leaped out to help her down. She whispered, her hand on his: “If you didn’t come-back it’d–kill me.”

  “Anne!”

  She said no more but when she got up between Daisy and Nebraskie she gave him a long look that he would remember as long as he lived.

  “Ioway, when’ll you come?” queried Nebraskie. “We ain’t gonna start our honeymoon till you do. Shore if we did it’d plumb kill Anne. I heahed her say so.”

  “Well, let’s go if we’re going,” cried Anne sharply, and Daisy pummeled Nebraskie with a vigorous little fist. Reluctantly, the cowboy took up the reins and clucked to the horses.

  “Wal, I’m so glad over thet I could bust,” declared Brooks, fervently, as he watched them drive down the street. Anne looked back once more before the buggy disappeared down the road.

  “So long, Sam. I’ve got some things to do,” said the Iowan quietly. “I’ll see you at home, maybe tomorrow, or next day surely.”

  Ernest first called upon his lawyer, Jefford Smith, who was greatly pleased to see him.

  “I was trying to make up my mind to go down to Red Rock,” said Smith, after greeting him. “You are delaying too long. Hepford is planning on shipping cattle to New Mexico. He has acquired a ranch there.”

  “Well, a lot has happened to prevent me. One thing of which was–I fell in love with Hepford’s daughter.”

  “No?”

  “And I married her, too,” declared Ernest.

  The lawyer was thunderstruck. “Good heavens, young man! Unless you mean to let Hepford get away with wholesale robbery, you’ve surely complicated the case.”

  “Mr. Smith, I won’t let him get away with any more property But of course I won’t put him in jail or even disgrace him. That, of course, is for his daughter’s sake.”

  “You’re very magnanimous. Excuse me, but is she deserving of such a sacrifice?” returned the lawyer bluntly.

  “She’s worth more.”

  “Hepford has robbed you of approximately two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Sure that hurts. But I’ve got nearly forty thousand of it back. At least I have the money. The disposition of it depends on your judgment.”

  “How on earth did you get such a sum from him?” demanded the astonished attorney.

  “Well, he entrusted it to Anne, his daughter, and I took it.”

  “Good. Put it in the bank at once.”

  “I will, sir. ... And I have something else. I stole a little blue book, a private ledger in which Hepford kept his personal accounts. Can you recall the statements in my uncle’s papers, which I showed you?”

  “Yes, enough to make comparisons. Let me see this ledger.”

  It did not take the keen lawyer long to digest the contents of the little book. Closing it, he said, “You have him pat. Now what are your instructions?”

  “How soon can you leave for Red Rock?”

  “Right away.”

  “I must rest the horses. Say tomorrow morning early.”

  “The earlier the better.”

  “Daylight then, at the hotel.... Oh, yes, there’s one more thing. I need some money.”

  “I can lend you any reasonable sum. But why not draw on that you have? It’s yours. There will never be any court proceedings.”

  “Gosh!” ejaculated Ernest, and rushed away.

  On his way to the bank he happened to think that to deposit such a sum of money as he had in his possession might very well rouse suspicion on the part of the bank officials. There was only one bank in town. Hepford had drawn the identical sum there not very long before. Ernest decided he would risk less by carrying it on his person.

  His first errand was to the jeweler’s. And this was an occasion. Not for nothing had he looked so long at Anne’s fingers, nor studied the ring Daisy had loaned her to be married with. He purchased a gold wedding ring, and then a solitaire ring, the stone in which was a very beautiful blue-white diamond, the finest the jeweler had in stock. Then, such was Ernest’s exultation, he bought another solitaire that he would tender to Nebraskie to give Daisy. He felt hugely delighted with himself.

  From the jeweler’s he repaired to the emporium where he had once obtained chaps, gloves, spurs and sombrero. He was remembered.

  �
�Want something rich in cowboy togs,” he said. “No flash or phony stuff.”

  There appeared to be a vast assortment of things for riders of the range. What an extravagant class cowboys were! Ernest bought boots with high tops of decorated kangaroo leather, as soft as kid; silver-mounted Mexican spurs, fringed buckskin gloves; a sombrero that felt like an umbrella; corduroys, blouse and scarf; and lastly a black leather gun belt and holster containing a white bone-handled gun.

  “Some Texas Jack died heah sudden with his boots on, an’ I got these,” explained the merchant. “Second hand, yes, but all the better for a little wear.”

  Ernest carried his purchases to his hotel room, thinking the while how his new regalia would make Anne gasp and those Red Rock cowboys stare and gape. His mental state was such that he could scarcely eat and he almost forgot to order the buck-board fetched round at dawn. It seemed no time at all when he was awakened by a thumping on his door. Through the window he could see that another day was dawning–a day that perhaps was to be a very important one in his life.

  Hepford’s black team was noted for its swift trips to town and back. By three o’clock in the afternoon Ernest halted where Brooks’ lane branched off the Red Rock road.

  “Now, Mr. Smith,” said Ernest, “you drive on to the ranch. Leave the horses at the barn and go hunt up Hepford. Tell him simply this–that the new owner of Red Rock will be there pronto, you are his lawyer, and you want to know what he’s going to do about an accounting. I’ll get my papers and follow you immediately.”

  “I like the job. . . . But, does your wife know you are young Selby?”

  “She does not. Don’t you tell her or anybody.”

  “Very good. I’ll expect you shortly after I arrive,” returned the lawyer, and then he drove on.

  Ernest strode rapidly down the lane, absorbed in thought. He had planned exactly what to do and say, how he was going to act, up to a certain point. That point was when he finally found himself alone with Anne. As he thought of that moment his heart came up in his throat. When he stooped to slide between the bars of Brooks’ gate his ear was assailed by a stentorian: “Whoopee!”