"I reckon, Dick, you'd like ter hear thet thar story erbout the time I lied down on ther Pecos in the summer o'—"
"Conductor," said Ben, detaining that official as he was passing through the car, "is there no way of stopping the noise this person is making? I cannot take my nap on account of his chatter."
Several persons who were not in the secret were for interfering in behalf of Bud and his story, which they wanted to hear, but were headed off by the conductor, who said:
"Sorry, but I cannot interfere with the gentleman. He does not seem to be annoying the other passengers. If you wish to take a nap you are at liberty to go up ahead in the smoking car."
At this Bud began to gloat.
"I hear they've put a cattle car up next ter ther injine fer sech sensitive people like you. Yer might enj'y a leetle siesta on ther straw."
Ben sank back into his seat, and began to snore gently.
"What about the story down on the Pecos, Bud?" said Dick.
"You'd like to hear it, eh? Then I'll tell it to you. Of course, the other folks may listen to it, but it is understood betwixt me an' you thet it's all yours, an' whatever goes inter their ears is jest ther leavin's. Is that a go?"
The boy nodded eagerly, even though he didn't understand the drift of Bud's remarks.
"What's the story about?" asked the boy.
"The goat, my boy. Perhaps you don't know it, but the goat is one of the noblest animals what walks. He is also one o' ther smartest, an' in former years used ter be able ter talk, but ez soon ez he got ter be so popular in secret societies ther gift o' speech was withdrawed from him, so thet he wouldn't be able ter give erway ther secret things what he saw an' heard at ther meetin's."
"But, Bud, are they really smart?" asked Dick.
"Smart ain't no name fer it. All yer got ter do to find out if they're smart is ter look at their whiskers. The smartest o' all animiles is man, an' don't he wear whiskers? An' I want ter ast yer what other animile hez whiskers exceptin' ther goat. Ther goat knew what he was about when he begin ter raise whiskers. He says ter hisself—"
"What bosh!" exclaimed Ben, snorting in his sleep.
"Aire you addressin' yer remarks ter me?" asked Bud, looking over the back of the seat at Bud. But the only answer was a gentle snore.
"What did he say?" asked Dick eagerly.
"'Why,' says he, 'if they won't let me talk they can't keep me from bein' ez near a man ez I kin go; by gravy, I'll raise whiskers like Deacon Smith,' who was a member o' ther lodge in which ther goat officiated; and, by jinks, he did, an' ther fashion wuz follered, an' they wear them ter this day.
"There ain't no question o' their smartness, an' their prominence. Ain't one o' ther signs o' the zodiac up in ther heavens named after ther goat—Capricornus is ther feller ter what I refer—an' them heathen chaps what wuz half man an' half goat? Didn't they come pretty near bein' ther whole thing?"
"But about the Pecos?" inquired Dick, who was not partial to preaching, but wanted to get at the heart of the story.
"Oh. yes. I wuz leadin' up ter it gradooal, fer what I'm goin' ter relate—if thet yap will choke off on thet moosical snore—"
"Here, wake up, you're snoring so loud we can't hear ourselves holler," said Kit, reaching over and shaking Ben.
"I can't keep awake while that fellow persists in yarning away like a fanning machine. It's so monotonous I can't keep awake," and Ben stretched and yawned.
"Let's get away from here and go to some other part of the car," whispered Dick.
"No, we'll just stay here an' spite him. He'll wake up after a while an' be glad to listen to ther story. So here goes!
"I was punchin' cow's down on the Pecos one summer fer ther Crazy B Ranch. We had eight punchers in ther bunch, a good chuck wagon, an' easy work, so I wuz pretty well suited, an' thet summer I gained twelve pounds, even if it wuz a hundred an' forty in ther shade, which we hed forgotten ter bring along with us."
"Forgotten to bring what?" asked the boy.
"Our shade. Yer see, down in thet country ther sun is so strong thet every one carries his own shade, fer there isn't a tree in ther whole country big enough ter cast a shadder o' any sort. Out on ther ranches, at certain seasons o' ther year, they serve out shade ter ther men jest ther same ez they do bacon an' saleratus ter ther outfit thet goes out herdin'."
Dick looked seriously at Bud for a moment, hardly knowing whether or not to doubt him, but Bud's face was as grave as a deacon's.
"I don't understand it, I'm sure," he said. "But where do they get the shade to give to the men?"
"That's easy enough. It's always gathered on dark nights, generally late in ther fall er in ther winter, so thet it'll be real cool."
"But where do they get it?"
"What—ther shade? Why, they just go out an' gather it off the ground in thin shapes, kinder longer than broad. It can be rolled up just like a blanket, an' carried behind ther saddle. It's gathered in ther cold months. Ye've heard o' ther 'cool shade.' Well, that's why they gather it late in the year. Summer shade is no good, because it's too warm."
"But what is it like?"
"Oh, it's black, an' I hear they strip it off close ter ther ground. We don't get no shade like it in this part o' ther country. Ther only place what hez it is ther West, whar it's needed most."
"But how about the Pecos?"
"Sho! I almost fergot it, didn't I, while teachin' yer something erbout ther way they do things in Arizony an' her sister-in-law, Noo Mexico? Now I'm off, shore.
"Ping-pong Martin wuz in ther outfit thet year. Mebbe yer knows him?" Bud looked at the small boy inquiringly, much to his embarrassment.
"No, sir, I never heard of him before."
"Well, no matter, but this Ping-pong cuss, he had a personal friend, a goat, what couldn't no more be shook than a sore thumb, and had follered Ping off ter ther wars, so to speak.
"Ping run off from home on ther quiet ter join our outfit, leavin' ther goat to home, locked up in ther barn. Ping thought he hed ther goat faded, but one day, when we wuz half asleep in our saddles, a feller over on ther other side come a-runnin' in.
"'What's ther matter?' sez I.
"Thar's a funny animile over here. He shore is ther devil, fer he wears horns, an' hez a face exactly like thet o' ole man Pillsbury. I ain't bettin' none it ain't him. But if it is Pillsbury, he better not go home lookin' like thet 'thout lettin' his wife know first.'
"Ping an' me rode over ter ther other side, an' thar stood a goat, lookin' so nice an' socierble.
"'Great hevings!' shouted Ping, makin' a rush fer ther goat, 'thet's my goat Ezra, ain't you?'"
"Did the goat understand him?"
"Did he understand him? Well, I should whisper sweetly. Why, thet goat jest jumped all over Ping, a-runnin' his whiskers inter his eyes, an' laughin', he wuz so glad ter see him. He'd traced Ping plumb ercross ther desert ter get ter us, an', o' course, we couldn't sic him home after that.
"We all got ter love Ezra fer his lovely ways; that is, all except 'Boney Bill' Henderson."
"Why? Didn't the goat like him?"
"Well, it wuz this way: Boney Bill had a habit o' beggin' ther grease from ther fryin' pan every night ter ile his boots. This made 'em good an' strong, ez well ez easy ter chew on. One night, Ezra bein' fond o' boots, finds 'em an' chews ther tops off'n 'em. They wuz ther only boots Bill hed, an' we wuz two hundred mile ter another pair, so Bill hed ter go through ther season barefoot, an' ther sun jest nacherly warped his feet out o' all shape.
"But thet wuzn't what I wuz goin' ter tell yer erbout. That fall ther Utes went on ther warpath, an' wuz headin' our way, an' I want ter tell yer we wuz some scared. We hed several brushes with ther Injuns, an' ther courier we sent ter ther fort fer help wuz killed an' scalped.
"Thar we wuz, in a little valley entirely surrounded by Injuns thirstin' fer our gore. How long we could hold out agin' 'em wuz ther problem. But whenever one o' 'em showed his head we took a pop at it, an' they returned ther
compliment. We wuz prayin' fer ther comin' o' ther soldiers, which wuz ther only thing what could save us from a horrible death.
"Ther Injuns got next ter ther fact thet our ammunition wuz runnin' short, an' they wuz gittin' some gay; sorter takin' advantage o' us in a way. I could see thet they wuz gettin' ready ter make a rush down inter ther valley an' massacree us all, an' we prepared ter sell our lives dearly.
"One mornin' we missed Ezra, ther goat. I'll never fergit ther misery on ther face o' Ping-pong when he finds it out.
"'Bud,' he says ter me, 'I'm goin' out ter find Ezra, an' if them Injuns hez got him, I'm goin' ter bust ther whole tribe wide open.'
"I tried ter persuade him not ter go, but he will, so I goes with him. We sneaks up ther side o' ther hill, an' looks over ther ridge right down inter ther Injun village. The sight what met our gaze almost, but not quite, made me bust open with laughin'.
"Ther Injuns wuz all down on their hands an' knees, bowin' ter Ezra, who wuz walkin' eround on his hind legs, sashayin' sideways an' noddin' his head jest like a live bock-beer sign. Yer see, ther Injuns hed never seen a goat before, an' when Ezra walks onto them, waggin' his whiskers in a wise sort o' way, they thinks he's some kind o' a god, er somethin' like that. But when he got up on his hind legs an' begin ter sashay thet settled it. They wuz shore o' it then.
"We watched ther performance fer a while, then ther Injuns got up an' begin ter mosey. In an hour thar wuzn't a Injun within twenty mile. They jest hit ther high places fer home.
"Thet wuz ther way Ezra saved our party. After thet he could hev et every boot in ther outfit, an' thar wouldn't hev been a kick."
"What became of him?" asked Kit.
"Oh, he went back home with Ping an' raised a large family, an' they wuz talkin' o' runnin' him fer ther legislature an account o' his whiskers an' his smartness."
"He was a smart goat, wasn't he?" said Dick.
"You bet. Thet's why I said that some goats wuz jest ez smart ez lots o' collidge gradooates what I hev met."
CHAPTER XX.
THE COUNTERFEIT BANK NOTE.
When they arose in the morning the train was speeding over the prairie, and Dick could hardly be pulled away from the window long enough to go to breakfast with Stella and Mrs. Graham, so great was his delight at being in the "really and truly" wild West.
When they were all back in the car again, Ted, for the first time, noticed a large man, flashily dressed, who wore a flaming red necktie, and who evidently thought himself irresistible to the ladies.
He walked up and down the aisle on the slightest pretext, ogling every pretty woman in the car, and Ted was getting very tired of it, especially as once or twice he had the impertinence to stop and look into the stateroom in which Stella and Mrs. Graham were sitting.
"I'll take a fall out of that fellow if he keeps up that sort of thing much longer," said Ted, who was sitting beside Kit.
"I was thinking of the same thing," said Kit. "He makes me tired. I wonder what he is, anyway?"
"He has the make-up of a gambler or a saloon keeper," answered Ted. "He better keep away from me if he knows when he's well off."
At a town farther down the line a young lady entered the car, and took a seat directly in front of Kit, who was alone, Ted having gone to the front of the train to consult the conductor about a mistake that had been made in their tickets.
Presently the flashy man with the red necktie spied her and sauntered past her down the aisle. In a few moments he came back, twirling his black mustache, which evidently was dyed, and casting glances at the young lady.
Stopping in front of her, he said:
"Is this seat taken, lady?"
The young lady looked up, and answered coldly:
"No, sir; but there are plenty of other seats in the car which are unoccupied."
"This one looks good to me," said the fellow, with a smile which was supposed to be very fetching.
Without further excuse he plumped himself down in the seat beside her, and threw his arm familiarly over the back of it, at the same time hitching closer to her.
Then he tried to draw her into conversation, but she turned from him and looked out of the window.
But he persisted, and she showed that his attentions were annoying her.
Kit watched the proceedings, and was boiling with anger, but he did not feel that he had the right to interfere until the young lady showed by her manner that she desired assistance.
Presently the man said something to the young lady in a low voice that seemed to arouse her anger, for she rose hastily to her feet, her face burning.
"Let me pass!" she said.
"Don't leave me like this," said the fellow, blocking the way with his knees. "Sit down. We'll soon be good friends. You'll find me a good fellow."
"I insist, sir, that you allow me to pass," said the girl, growing pale, her voice rising a little.
Kit could stand it no longer. He reached over and tapped the fellow on the shoulder.
"Allow the lady to pass," he said quietly.
The hawk turned his head and sized Kit up. This did not take much time, for Kit was small and slender, his black eyes being the largest part of him, proportionately.
"What the deuce have you got to do with this?" he sneered, looking savagely at Kit.
"Just enough to make sure that you do it," said Kit, rising.
"Well, I don't allow no pups like you to interfere with me. You sit down an' let this gal an' me attend to our own business, er I'll bend you an' tie you into a knot an' throw you out of the window."
Kit did not reply, but he reached over and got the fellow by the coat collar and jerked him into the aisle, and, twisting him around, planted his toe between his coat tails with a force that sent him halfway down the length of the car.
"You're on the wrong train," said Kit. "The cattle train is on the other track."
The fellow soon regained his balance, and came rushing back like a charging bull.
"You little snipe!" he roared, "I'll kill you for that."
But as he got near Kit dodged into the space between the seats, and as the fellow rushed past, carried on by the momentum of his run, Kit swung at him with his right fist.
It caught the fellow back of the ear, and the force behind the blow, as well as the rate at which he had been coming, sent him headlong between two seats, where he lay crumpled up like a rag.
The commotion had attracted the attention of Bud and Ben, and they were by Kit's side in a moment.
"Need any help?" asked Bud.
"Not a bit," replied Kit. "I'm not very large, but no man of that sort can call me a pup."
The fellow lay where he fell, and Bud warned away several passengers who wanted to go to his assistance.
"He's all right," he said. "A crack like that never injured any one permanently, but sometimes it wakes them up ter ther foolishness of insulting a lady when ther broncho boys are around."
Kit lifted his hat to the young lady.
"Pardon me for making a disturbance," he said. "I don't think you'll be bothered again."
The young lady was profuse in her thanks, and resumed her seat.
Presently the fellow on the floor got up and sneaked into another car, without looking again at either Kit or the young lady.
"Hello, Kit! What was it all about?" asked Ted entering the car.
"Oh, I never could stand for red neckties, nohow," answered Kit apologetically.
When the train stopped for dinner they all trooped into the station dining room, and secured for themselves a long table, around which they sat like a big and happy family.
As Ted and Kit were walking along the platform toward the dining room Ted suddenly halted and stared at a man who was leaning against the wall of the station.
"By Jove, I believe it's him!" he muttered.
"Who's him?" asked Kit.
"The express robber, Checkers," answered Ted. "And yet I'm not sure. If it is him it's one of the best disguises I ever saw. Look
at your friend of the red necktie hurrying up to him. By Jove, they're a good pair! I wish I could hear that fellow in the checked suit speak."
"That fellow will get caught up yet if he persists in wearing checked suits," said Kit. "It seems to be his badge, or a disease with him."
"I suppose that's why they call him Checkers," said Ted. "I wish I knew. I'd take a chance at arresting him."
At that moment the man in the checked suit looked up and caught Ted and Kit staring at him.
Hastily calling the attention of the man with the red necktie to them, he hurried around the corner, and the other followed.
Ted ran to the corner of the station, but all he could see of either was through a swirl of dust as the motor car in which they were riding flew up the street.
"By crickey! I'll bet anything that was Checkers," grumbled Ted. "I'm always too late to get to him. But next time I'll take a long chance with him."
The train pulled into Green River at eight o'clock that night, and they all went to the leading hotel, and Ted registered them as coming from the ranch.
During the evening the boys mingled with the crowd in the hotel lobby, talking cattle, and met many of the representative women of the section.
They were out after a bunch of stockers, and promised to be in the neighborhood for several days and to visit the ranches and look over the stock.
One of the men whom they met was introduced to them as Colonel Billings, ranch owner and speculator in cattle.
He was a middle-aged man of most pleasant features—benign, good-natured, and yet shrewd. He dressed well for a cowman, and from his pink, bald crown and gray chin whiskers down to his neat shoes, he looked the part of the prosperous business man.
"I have a lot of stock such as I think you boys need out at my ranch," he said to Ted, when he learned that they wanted to buy. "I'd like to have you bring your party out to the place and stay several days as my guests. You would then have plenty of time to look the stock over, and if you like them I'm sure we can strike a bargain."
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