by Carol Norton
Chapter Six The Saddle
Jim set out for town with the bull haltered and trailing behind Ticktock.He would have much preferred to drive the animal to market, but hedecided that discretion was better than playing cowboy. If the animal gotloose in the village and caused havoc, his father would never trust himagain.
The bull had learned his lesson well and plodded meekly behind the horse.Uneventfully the little cavalcade made its way into town, across thetracks, and over to the stockyards. Colonel Flesher came out of hisweighing shed, which also served as his office, and greeted Jim.
"Good morning, young man. I see the Pony Express is delivering the male."He laughed so heartily at his own pun that his enormous stomach shook upand down.
Jim, who was very pleased that the colonel had evidently read his recentpublicity, grinned politely. The bull was led onto the weighing platformand after being weighed, was put in one of the enclosures of thestockyard.
"How's business with the Pony Express Incorporated?" asked the stockbuyer.
"Fair," answered Jim. "Of course, just starting in business this waythings are apt to be a little slow."
"Have any trouble bringing that bull to town?"
"Not a bit," answered Jim proudly. "Ticktock comes from a ranch, youknow, so he really knows how to handle stock. We could drive a wholeherd."
"I don't doubt it," said the colonel. "I have to admit that I was a bitoff base where that horse is concerned. He has certainly improved sincethe first time I saw him. I think I'll have a job for you in a couple ofdays. There's about ten head of stock I bought from a farmer three milessouth of here. You interested in driving them in for me?"
"Sure," said Jim confidently. "Any time you say. Ten head at my usualrates would be two dollars."
"That's quite a wage for a young man," said the colonel considering. "Butthen there's the rising cost of living and the upkeep on your horse so Isuppose that's fair. Anyhow its cheaper than trucking them in. I'll giveyou a call. Probably day after tomorrow."
Leading a bull]
"All right, sir. If I'm away on business my mother will take the message.She acts as my secretary," said Jim, trying to speak casually.
The telephone message came through as expected, and very much excited,Jim set out. This was a job to his liking--herding cattle like a truecowboy. He arrived at his destination, collected the ten head of cattleand started toward town. Driving the cattle along the country roads wasnot difficult. He kept the herd carefully to one side to avoid troublewith passing automobiles. Now and then one of the "critters" would see atuft of grass on the opposite side of the road and try to break away.Ticktock would quickly demonstrate his prowess as a cow pony and drivethe offender back into line. Altogether the trip to Springdale wasaccomplished without any untoward incident.
As they started through the edge of town toward the stockyards,difficulties began to develop. At the sight of the wide inviting lawns oneach side of the street, the cattle really began to be troublesome. Asfast as one was chased back into the herd another would stray. Jim andhis pony both began to work up a sweat. About halfway through town, thecrisis came. One stubborn old cow, taking a fancy to some lettuce in avegetable garden, went ambling across the sidewalk with a determinedglint in her eyes. As Jim turned the pony after her, a steer broke ranksand headed across a front lawn on the opposite side of the street. It wasa tough spot. You couldn't chase two strays in opposite directions andherd the remaining eight cattle, all at the same time. With a sinkingfeeling that he was failing at his first big job, Jim considereddesperately what to do.
Leaving the reins dangling on Ticktock's neck, Jim slid from the horse'sback. "Keep 'em herded, Ticktock," he shouted, and started after the oldcow in the vegetable garden.
Ticktock followed his instructions remarkably well. He seemed to sensewhat was wanted and faithfully kept the remaining eight cows tightlybunched. Shouting and waving his arms, Jim chased the old cow from thegarden before any damage was done except a few deep hoof prints in thesoft earth. As he herded the straying animal back across the sidewalktoward the main herd, he looked for the stray on the opposite side of thestreet. Dismayed he saw the steer was already across the well-kept lawnand almost to an orderly flower garden which nestled at the side of alittle white bungalow.
Just as the frisky young bull was about to plow into the little flowerbed, a liver and white shape came hurtling around the corner of thebungalow, barking furiously. Ferociously, the dog went after the steer,which turned tail and fled back toward the street. Nipping at the steer'sheels, the dog chased the animal across the sidewalk.
"Here, boy. Come here, old fellow," shouted Jim as invitingly as he knewhow. He was deeply grateful to the dog for helping save the day, but hedidn't want the barking warrior to get the whole herd excited. Then therewould be serious trouble. Fortunately, the dog was well trained andstopped his barking, trotting obediently up to Jim. It was a springerspaniel with beautiful markings. Jim longed to reach down and pat his newfriend's head but the cattle seemed more important at the moment. By nowthe herd was altogether again and Ticktock was doing a magnificent jobkeeping the cattle tightly bunched. The little mustang was slowlycircling the herd which was now at a standstill.
Since there was nothing available from which to climb up on the mustang'sback, Jim decided to walk the remaining short distance to the stockyards.Moreover, it would be easier to keep the cattle under control withhimself on one side and Ticktock on the other. He started the cattlemoving once more. As they proceeded down the street, the spanielfollowed. At first, Jim tried to get the dog to return to his home,fearing that the animal would start barking and stampede the cattle. Butthe brown and white springer seemed determined to accompany him. Heturned out to be a very competent helper, trotting along on one side ofthe herd very quietly until one of the cattle attempted to break from theknot. Then the little dog would bark furiously and chase the offenderback into place.
With perfect teamwork such as this, the rest of the journey wasuneventful. When they arrived at the stockyard Ticktock was on one sideof the herd, the dog on the other, and Jim walked behind. Colonel Fleshercame out of his office, watching the last stage with open-mouthedamazement.
"That certainly takes the prize," he observed when the cattle were safelypenned. "You, that horse and the dog all working together like clockwork.I hope you didn't walk all the way to town."
"No, just the last half-mile. It was simple out on the country road.Going through town, I figured out this was the easy way to handle 'em."
"Well, I have to admit you did it beautifully," said the stock buyer inadmiration. "I forgot to tell you, but that little road over there westof the yards comes in parallel to the railroad tracks. There are nohouses or yards along that. It might be a little longer in case you haveto circle town to get to it, but it would probably be less trouble in thelong run."
"I'll take that next time," said Jim, who didn't care to repeat hisrecent experience.
"Where'd you pick up Doc Cornby's dog?" asked Colonel Flesher, paying Jimhis two dollars.
"Oh, I just recruited him on the way," said Jim very off-handedly.
"Well, it's a mystery to me how you get these animals to work for you soeasily," said the colonel, shaking his head. "I'll have another job foryou in a few days."
Thanking the stock buyer for the money, Jim climbed back on his horse andwhistled to the dog. He felt it was only fair to return the spaniel tohis home after the assistance the dog had given him. Arriving at thebungalow, Jim dismounted and walked up to the door. His knock wasanswered by a very pleasant-faced woman.
"How do you do, Mrs. Cornby," he said politely. "I brought your dog back.He was helping me drive cattle."
"I saw what was happening from the window," said Mrs. Cornby, smiling."It was a good thing Horace was here to help you. That steer was headingstraight for my flowers. If it had ruined my prize begonias, I wouldnever have forgiven you."
"He's certainly a smart dog. He was a big help."
"He spent the last summer on my brother's farm. Bert taught him to goafter the cows each evening, so I guess he enjoys helping herd cattle."
Mrs. Cornby had solved the mystery of why the dog had helped herd sointelligently, but Jim was slightly disappointed. He would have preferredto think that animals instinctively knew what he wanted.
"If he likes to drive cattle, I'd be glad to take him along the next timeI bring some in," volunteered Jim.
"Thank you very much, but I think not," said Mrs. Cornby. "He runs awaytoo much as it is and if anything happened to him the children would beheartbroken. I suppose you're Jim Meadows of the Pony Express that wehave been reading about in the paper."
"That's right," said Jim proudly. A sudden thought struck him. The editorand Dr. Cornby were close friends. "Would you do me a favor, Mrs. Cornby?Don't let Mr. Arnold hear about the trouble I had with the cattle. Hemight print it in his newspaper and bad publicity like that could ruin mybusiness. I'm going to drive cattle by a different route after this,anyhow."
Mrs. Cornby laughingly promised she would remain silent. Jim got back onhis horse and headed home for lunch. He would get a smart dog like Horacesome day, he decided. But first, before taking on any more liabilities,he wanted to solve the problem of keeping Ticktock permanently. Mrs.Cornby had been nice, agreeing to keep quiet about the incident. He wasglad the steer hadn't ruined her begonias, though why anyone set such astore by ugly waxy-leaved plants like begonias, he didn't know. Women arehard to understand, he decided.
After two more successful and uneventful trips driving cattle to town,Colonel Flesher offered Jim an additional job.
"How would you like to work for me Saturday afternoons and evenings atthe sales barn?" asked the stock buyer with a wave of his fat hand towardthe huge auction barn near the stockyards.
"That sounds swell, sir," said Jim. He had attended part of the auctionone afternoon with his father and had enjoyed it immensely.
"I'll give you a dollar and a half and your supper. Since I don't supposeyou'd consider a proposition that didn't include your horse, I'll throwin feed for him too," offered the colonel.
"It's a deal," said Jim, shaking hands. "When do I start?"
"Three o'clock this Saturday."
Anything and everything was sold at the colonel's Saturday sales. Therewere horses, sheep, cattle, goats, pigs and poultry auctioned off in thebig barn. The farmers who always came to town Saturday afternoon orevening to do their shopping brought whatever they wished to sell. Youcould buy garden tools, tractors, chairs, setting hens or pianos.Anything that was offered was put on the block and sold to the highestbidder. There were items ranging from fifty cents to five hundreddollars.
Each sale was as fascinating as a circus to Jim. There was always a hugethrong of people gathered under the big roof--men, women and childrenfrom all over the surrounding countryside. There is some form ofcontagious excitement at an auction. When the crowd surged forward to bidon some choice item, the tenseness and excitement of the group would gripJim too. He would hold his breath as the colonel skillfully maneuveredthe bidding higher and higher.
Jim gained a new respect for Colonel Flesher at the auctions. He hadalways wondered secretly how a man could be as fat as the stock buyerunless he were lazy, but he changed his mind at the sales. The big manwas going from three in the afternoon, when the sale opened, until itended, usually about nine in the evening. It was a mystery to Jim how thecolonel's voice managed to keep up its steady flow, hour after hour. Henever lost his enthusiasm either. He would shout as jovially andinterestedly while selling a fifty-cent used ironing board as he wouldover a prize cow. The auctioneer was particularly adept at keeping thecrowd in a good humor. If the bidding were not progressing well, he couldalways manage to bring up a joke or story to get the crowd laughing.
"Now look men," he might say, while selling a used washing machine. "Youcan't let this washing machine go for a paltry ten dollars. No wonder thedivorce rate is rising. You tell a woman you love her, and then, afteryou are married, you would rather let her break her back over a washboardthan spend more than ten dollars. Now let's have a bid that will showchivalry is not dead. Besides, I think with a little bit of trouble youcould hook an ice-cream freezer to this motor. What am I bid? Fifteen,fifteen, fifteen, sixteen, sixteen, eighteen, who'll make it twenty.Twenty dollars by the man over there who loves his wife.Twenty--twenty--going at twenty. Going, going, gone! Sold for twentydollars."
In the beginning Jim was baffled by the methods used in bidding. Duringthe first few sales he jerked his head back and forth frantically tryingto locate the various bidders but he seldom saw more than half of them.After a few experiences helping the colonel upon the platform, he beganto solve the mystery. Some men would lift a finger while others wouldwink an eye or use a nod of the head. Whatever the signal, the colonelseldom missed it. He seemed to have an uncanny knack of knowing who was alikely bidder on each item, so that often it was unnecessary for a bidderto announce himself as a party to the bidding even on his initial offer.It seemed of particular importance on expensive items, such as large farmmachinery, that the bidders maintain secrecy.
"They don't want the other bidders to know who their competition is,"explained the colonel to Jim. "Everybody knows everybody else and abouthow much money he has. If a man knows who's bucking him at an auction, heknows just about how high the other fellow is willing to go. That's badat a sale. For example, if a good milk cow was being sold and everybodyknew old man Wilkins was bidding, they might get discouraged because theyknow he's wealthy and stubborn. On the other hand, he doesn't want peopleto know he's in the race as someone might run up the price just to spitehim."
Jim enjoyed his duties at the auction. He led out cows and horses to besold, handed small items to the colonel, or even held up an occasionalarticle for the inspection of the crowd while Colonel Flesher sold it.When there was an unusually large amount of stock to be sold, part of itwas kept at the stockyard and driven over as required. Those instanceswere the only times that Ticktock's services were needed. However, Jimalways kept the pony tied in the stock barn during the sales. He likedthe mustang close by, and Ticktock seemed to enjoy the sale as much asthe boy.
There was a half-hour pause at six o'clock while the colonel and hishelpers ate a quick supper. The meal usually consisted of several hotdogs or hamburgers, a piece of pie and coffee. The food was obtained atthe lunch counter just outside the main entrance to the sales barn andwas taken into the colonel's office to be eaten. Jim always lookedforward to the brief meal. Not only did he like hot dogs and hamburgers,but also he enjoyed the conversation.
"That big gray horse went dirt cheap, didn't it?" the sales clerk, CarlMason, would say.
"Yeah, it was a steal," Colonel Flesher would agree. "I tried my best toget the price up on that. That tractor was way overbid though. Sold fortwice what it was worth."
Jim began to have a very shrewd idea of what various articles were worth,ranging from mops to gang plows.
At Jim's fourth auction, a saddle was offered for sale. He saw it justbefore the sale opened, stacked in a corner with a pile of miscellaneoushousehold articles. Climbing over two galvanized washtubs, he managed toget close enough to inspect it carefully. It was a Western saddle with ahigh horn and cantle. The pommel, the cantle and the leather legprotectors were all covered with fancy tooling.
The saddle had been used just enough to deepen the color of the leatherto a beautiful dark brown. Nowhere was it worn, and apparently it hadbeen well cared for, as the leather was soft and pliable to the touch,indicating that plenty of saddlesoap and elbow grease had been used bythe owner. It looked just right for Ticktock. Jim gazed at the saddlewith longing and admiration. He had looked at the prices of saddles inthe Montgomery Ward and Sears catalogs at home and knew a saddle such asthat must have cost at least a hundred dollars. Probably more, as he hadnever seen a saddle with tooling such as this one.
In his mind he counted his money. He had only two dollars with him, butthe total of his earnings now amounted to nineteen dollars. The saddlecouldn't conceivably go for such a price as that, he decided dismally,even if it were an off day at the sale. Besides he didn't have the moneywith him and the sales were always for cash. Regretfully he stopped hisminute inspection and went about his duties.
In spite of being resigned about the saddle, Jim made certain that he waspresent when it was sold. It seemed forever before it came up on theblock. For the first time Jim took little interest in the bidding onvarious other articles offered. When the saddle was finally broughtforward, he stood on the edge of the crowd, tense with excitement.
"What am I offered for this fine saddle?" asked the colonel. "Ahand-tooled saddle in fine condition. None of your Eastern foolishnessabout this. It's a serviceable as well as a beautiful Western job.There's a good saddle blanket here that goes with it. What am I bid?Who'll make me an offer?"
Jim found himself criticizing the colonel's sales methods for the firsttime. He wished the auctioneer wouldn't praise the saddle in such glowingterms.
"Ten dollars," came the first bid from somewhere in the crowd.
"I have an offer of ten dollars. Who'll make it twelve?" boomed thecolonel.
"Twelve," was the answer from another quarter of the room.
The bidding went to fourteen dollars and hung there for a moment. Jimcouldn't bear the thought of that beautiful saddle going to someone elsefor a mere fourteen dollars. He resolutely shoved his fears about moneyfor Ticktock's winter feed into the background.
"Fifteen dollars," he shouted in a high voice.
"I'm offered fifteen," said the colonel, glancing quickly at Jim."Sixteen, sixteen, am I bid sixteen?" Someone gave the signal and theoffer went to sixteen. The auctioneer looked over at Jim questioningly.Feeling very nervous and uncertain that he was doing the proper thing,Jim nodded. His bid stood only a moment until the ante was raised toeighteen. Again the colonel looked in his direction and Jim nodded.
"Nineteen, I've been offered nineteen; who'll make it twenty, twenty,twenty. Twenty it is. Who'll make it twenty-one?"
Colonel Flesher looked questioningly at Jim, who had to shake his headsadly. He had reached the limit of his means. The bidding went on brisklyuntil it reached twenty-five dollars. There it hung.
"Twenty-five, twenty-five, who'll make it twenty-six? Going, going, gone.Twenty-five dollars. Sold to the Pony Express Incorporated fortwenty-five dollars."
Jim opened his mouth in astonishment. For a moment he doubted what he hadheard. He had stopped bidding at nineteen. He didn't think he had madeany signal after that which the colonel could possibly interpret as abid. He started to shout out a denial and then thought better. He wouldput the auctioneer in a bad spot if he denied the bid. He tried to thinkof some way out of the delicate situation. The only solution was to seeColonel Flesher as soon as he could and explain that not only had he notbid any such sum as twenty-five dollars but that he couldn't possibly payit anyhow.
All afternoon he worried about the matter. The sale seemed to drag onforever. Finally it was time for supper. Jim collected his food at thelunch wagon and headed for the auctioneer's office. Troubled as he was,his appetite still remained.
"There's been a mistake, Colonel Flesher," Jim said as the big manentered. "I stopped bidding at nineteen dollars on that saddle."
"I know you did. My eyesight isn't failing yet."
"I thought I heard you say it was sold to the Pony Express at twenty-fivedollars."
"That's right. I got to thinking how nice that saddle would be for yourhorse. It's worth seventy-five dollars easily. I looked over at Ticktockand he seemed interested in it too. After you finished bidding I gotthree separate and distinct winks from your horse. Since I understandhe's a full partner of the firm I considered his bids binding and soldhim the saddle."
Jim was still too troubled to worry whether the colonel was kidding himor not. He wouldn't put it past Ticktock to have winked at theauctioneer. The idea that the mustang might bid on the saddle didn't seemat all absurd to Jim.
"But I have only nineteen dollars," he protested weakly.
"Perfectly all right," said the colonel jovially. "This is one exceptionwe'll make to the rule of cash on the barrel head. I've already paid forthe saddle. I'll take it out of your wages. Now quit worrying about thematter."
Jim quit worrying. He gulped down his piece of pie, thanked the colonel,and rushed out of the sales barn. He found his newly acquired saddle andblanket. He stroked the leather fondly. It certainly was a beauty.Tenderly he carried it over to show Ticktock.