by B. M. Bower
*CHAPTER IV*
*A CROWDED DAY*
After a late breakfast about noon Tex got the gunny sack, threw it overhis shoulder and went to the Mecca, nodding to the proprietor in aspirit of good-will and cheerfulness. Bud Haines did not appear to beabout.
"I come in to see about that cayuse," he said. "Where'll I find it?"
"Go down to th' stable an' see John," growled Williams. "You'll find itnext to Carney's saloon, across th' street. Got rested up yet?" Thequestion was not pleasantly asked.
Tex threw the sack over the other shoulder, hunched it to a morecomfortable position, and grinned sheepishly. "Purty near, I reckon;anyhow, I got over my grouch. I was shore peevish last night; but th'railroad's to blame for that. They say they are necessary, an' greatblessin's; but I ain't so shore about it. Outside of my personal grudgeag'in' 'em, I'm sore because they've shore played th' devil with th'range. Cut it all up--an' there ain't no more pickin' along th' oldtrails no more, like there once was. I don't reckon punchers has gotany reason to love 'em a whole lot."
Williams flashed him a keen look and slowly nodded. "Yo're right: lookat what they've done to this town. We ain't seen no real money sincethey came."
Tex shifted the sack again. "Everybody had money in them days," hegrowled. "If a feller went busted along th' trails he allus could pickup a few dollars, if he had a good cayuse an' a little nerve. Why,among them hills--but that ain't concernin' us no more, I reckon." Heshook his head sadly. "What's gone is gone. Reckon I'll go look atthat cayuse. You ain't got no letter for me yet, have you?"
"Le's see--Johnson?" puzzled the storekeeper, scratching his unshavenchin.
"No; Jones," prompted Tex innocently, hiding his smile.
"Oh, shore!" said his companion, slowly shaking his head. "There ain'tnothin' for you so far."
Tex did not think that remarkable not only because there never would beanything for him, but also because there had been no mail since he hadasked the day before; but he grunted pessimistically, shifted the sackagain, and turned to the door. "See you later," he said, going out.
He easily found the stable, grinned at the bleached, weather-beaten"Williams" painted over the door and going into the smelly, cigar-boxoffice, dumped the sack against the wall and nodded to John Graves."Come down to look at that cayuse Williams spoke about last night," hesaid, drawing a sleeve across his wet forehead.
"Shore; come along with me," said Graves, arising and passing out intothe main part of the building, Tex at his heels. "Here he is, Mr.Jones--as fine a piece of hossflesh as a man ever straddled. Gotbrains, youth, an' ginger. Sound as a dollar. Cost you eighty, even.You'll go far before you'll find a better bargain."
Tex looked at the teeth, passed a hypnotic hand down each leg in turn ashe talked to the gray in a soothing voice. Children, horses, and dogsliked him at first look. He frankly admired the animal from a distance,but sadly shook his head.
"Fine cayuse, an' a fair price," he admitted; "but I'm dead set ag'in'grays. Had two of 'em once, one right after th' other--an' come near todyin' on 'em both. If I didn't get killed, they did, anyhow. It's sortof set me ag'in' grays. Now, there's a roan that strikes me as a hossI'd consider ownin'. Of course, he ain't as good as th' gray, but hesuits me better." He walked over to the magnificent animal, which wasfar and away superior to the gray, and talked to it in a low, caressingvoice as he made a quick examination. "Yes, this cayuse suits me if th'price is right. If we can agree on that I'll lead him down th' streetan' see how he steps out. Ain't got nothin' else to do, anyhow."
Graves frowned and slowly shook his head. "Rather not part with thatone--an' he's a two-hundred-dollar animal, anyhow. It's a sort of petof th' boss--he's rid it since it was near old enough to walk. Thatgray's th' best I've got for sale, unless, mebby, it might be thatsorrel over there. Now, there's a mighty good hoss, come to think ofit."
Tex glanced at the beautiful line of the roan's back and thought of themassive weight of Williams, and of the sway-back bay standing saddled infront of his store. He shook his head. "Two hundred's too high for me,friend," he replied. "As I said, I don't like grays, an' that sorrelhas shore got a mean eye. It ain't spirit that's showin', but justplumb treachery. If you got off him out on th' range he'd head for homean' leave you to hoof it after him. I got an even hundred for th' roan.Say th' word an' we trade."
Graves waved his arms and enumerated the roan's good points as only ahorse dealer can. The discussion was long and to no result. Tex addedtwenty-five dollars to the hundred he had offered and the whole thingwas gone over again, but to no avail. He picked up the sack, slung itonto his back, and turned to leave.
"I'm shore surprised at th' prices for cayuses in this part of th'country," he said. "Mebby I can make a dicker with somebody else. Ofcourse, I'm admittin' that th' roan ain't got a sand crack like th'sorrel, or a spavin like th' gray--but that's too much money for asaddle hoss for a puncher out of a job. See you tonight, mebby."
Graves waved his arms again. "I'm tellin' you that you won't find nohoss in town like that roan--why, th' color of that animal is worth halfth' price. Just look at it!"
"All of which I admits," replied Tex; "but, you see, I'm buyin' me ahoss to ride, not to put on th' parlor table for to admire. Comin'right down to cases, any hoss but a gray, that's sound, an' not too old,is good enough for any puncher. You should 'a' seen some that I'verode, an' been proud of!"
"Seein' that yo're a lover of good hossflesh, I'll take a chance of Gusgettin' peeved, an' let you have th' roan for one-ninety. That's as lowas I can drop. Can't shave off another dollar."
"It's too rich for Tex Jones," grumbled the puncher. "See you tonight,"and the sack bobbed toward the door just as a sudden brawl sounded inthe street. Tex took two quick steps and glanced.
A miner and a cowpuncher were rolling in the dust, biting, hitting,gouging, and wrestling and, as Tex looked he saw the puncher's gun slipout of its open-top sheath. The fighting pair rolled away from it andsomeone in the closely following crowd picked it up to save it for itsowner. The puncher, pounds lighter than his brawny antagonist, rapidlywas getting the worst of the rough-and-tumble in which the other'ssuperior weight and strength had full opportunity to make itself felt.Suddenly the miner, thrown from his victim by a tremendous effort,leaped to his feet, snarling like a beast, and knicked at the puncher'shead. The heavy, hob-nailed boot crashed sickeningly home and as thewrithing man went suddenly limp, the victor aimed another kick at hisunconscious enemy. His foot swung back, but it never reached its mark.A forty-pound saddle in a sack shot through the air with all of a strongman's strength behind it and, catching the miner balanced on one foot,it knocked him sprawling through ten feet of dust and debris. Followingthe sack came Tex, his eyes blazing.
The miner groped in the dust, slowly sat up, moving his head from sideto side as he got his bearings. At once his eyes cleared and his handstreaked to the knife in his belt as he half arose. Tex leaped aside asthe heavy weapon cut through the air to sink into a near-by wall, whereit quivered. The thrower was on his feet now, his face working withrage, and he sprang forward, both arms circling before him. Tex swiftlygripped one outstretched wrist, turned sharply as he pushed his shoulderunder the armpit and suddenly bent forward, facing away from hisantagonist. The miner left the ground on the surging heave of thepuncher's shoulder, shot up into the air, turned over once as Tex, notwishing him to break his neck, pulled down hard on the imprisoned arm,and landed feet first against the wall, squarely under the knife.Bouncing up with remarkable vitality, the miner wrenched at the wickedweapon above him and then cursed as the steel, leaving its pointembedded in the wood, flew out of his hand.
Tex shoved the smoking Colt back into his holster and peered through theacrid, gray fog. "If you don't know when yo're licked, you better takemy word for it," he warned. "Seein' as how yo're a rubber ball, I'llmake shore th' third time!"
/> A snarl replied and the miner leaped for him, the hairy hands not so farextended this time. Tex broke ground with two swift steps and then,unexpectedly slipping to one side and forward in two perfectly timedmotions, swung a rigid, bent arm as the charging miner went blunderinglypast. The bony fist landed fair above the belt buckle and it was nearlyhalf an hour later before the prospector knew where he was, and then hewas too sick to care much.
Tex turned and faced the crowd with insolent slowness. His glance passedfrom face to face, finding some friendliness, much surprise, and a fewfrank scowls. He stepped up to the man who had retrieved the puncher'sgun and, ignoring the crowd altogether, took the weapon from thereluctant fingers which held it and went back to the front of thestable, where Graves had succeeded in bringing the prostrate puncherback to consciousness. Tex ran his fingers over the wobbly man's headand face, grunted, nodded, and smiled.
"Bad bruise, but nothin' is busted. Why there ain't I'm shore _I_ don'tknow. I figgered you was a goner. Here, take yore gun, an' let us helpyou into th' stable."
Once on his feet the puncher pushed free from the sustaining hands andstaggered to a box just inside the door, where he carefully seatedhimself, drew the Colt, and rested it on his knees, his blurred,throbbing eyes watching the street.
Tex grinned. "You can put that up ag'in--he's had all he can digest fora little while. Punchin' for Williams?"
"I'm ridin' for Curtis: C Bar. Over northeast, a couple of hours out.I'm keepin' th' gun where it is: th' miners run this town. Where do youfit in? One of th' GW gang?"
"Nope; I'm all of th' Tex Jones outfit. Stranger here, but shoregettin' acquainted rapid. Got any good cayuses for sale out at yoreplace? Our mutual friend, here, wants th' Treasury for th' only goodanimal he's got. Bein' a stranger is a handicap."
Graves leaned forward. "That hoss is worth--" he began in greatearnestness.
"--not one red cent to me, now," interrupted Tex, smiling. "Come tothink of it, I ain't goin' to buy no hoss, a-tall. I've changed mymind."
"We got th' usual run out on th' ranch," said the injured man. "Youknow 'em, I reckon. Poor on looks, mean as all h--l, with heartscrowded with sand. I'll be leavin' in half an hour if th' miners don'tinterfere--borry a cayuse an' ride out with me."
"Nope," replied Tex. "I ain't goin' to buy, a-tall, as I just said."He turned. "Good luck to you, friend. Barrin' th' soreness, an' yorelooks yo're all right," and he went out, picked up the bulging sack, andpassed down the street. Leaving the sack with the bartender in thehotel he went on to the station and smiled at the agent, who was jokingwith a red-headed Irishman.
"Hello; here he is now," exclaimed the boss of the depot. "Friend,shake hands with Tim Murphy. Tim, this is Mr.--Mr.----"
"Jones," supplied Tex. "Tex Jones, of Montanny, Texas, an' New York."
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Geography," grinned Murphy. "Th' lad here wasa-tellin' me ye gave him a friendly word an' some good advice. Fromthat I was knowin' ye didn't belong around here. I'll shake yer hand ifye don't mind. Th' sack wint like an arrow, th' wrestlin' trickcouldn't be bate, I never saw a nicer shot, an' th' finish does yeproud. Ye fair tickled me when ye wint for th' soft spot. 'Tis a raresight in street fights, an' in th' ring, too, for that matter. Welcometo Windsor!"
Tex laughed heartily and gripped the hairy fist. He liked the feel ofthe great, calloused hand, and the look on the smiling, tanned face,from which twinkled a pair of blue eyes alight with humor, honesty, andcourage. "But did you ever see a man come back as quick as he did?" heasked.
"'Twas surprisin' for a bully," admitted Murphy, grudgingly.
"That's where yo're wrong: he's no bully," contradicted Tex. "He's abrute, all right, savage as th' devil, an' foul in his fightin'--but heain't any coward. It fair stuck out of his eyes."
"Trust me to miss anything like that," growled the agent; "and trust Timnot to," he added.
"Hist, now!" warned Murphy, motioning with his thumb held close to hisvest. "Here comes th' lass. An' what do ye be thinkin' av th' townnow, Mr. Jones?"
"Just what you do," laughed Tex, turning slowly.
"An' how are ye this day, miss?" asked Murphy, his hat in his hand andhis red face beaming.
"Very well, indeed, Tim," replied the girl. She glanced at Tex as sheturned to her brother, holding out the lunch basket. "Jerry, I couldn'tget any decent eggs--and they had no milk for me." There was a poorlyhidden note of distress in her voice, and a faint look of anxietymomentarily clouded her face. Neither was lost to the observantpuncher.
Tex liked her instantly. Her voice was full and sweet, of resonanttimbre--a voice one would not easily tire of. Her figure was slender,and yet full and rounded, promising a wiry strength and great vitality.The sunbonnet she wore hid most of the chestnut-brown hair, but set offthe face within it with a bewitching art. Altogether she made a verypretty picture.
"It doesn't matter, Jane," smiled her brother, quick to sense her worry.He pinched the full lips with caressing playfulness. "I'm gettingstronger every day, and food isn't as critical a subject as it once was.The credit is all yours--Jane, meet Mr. Jones. I was speaking about himlast night."
Tex bowed gravely. "How do you do?" he murmured. "Conscientious care ismore than half of the battle. The credit he gave you appears to be welldeserved."
Jane Saunders, accustomed to embarrassed self-consciousness orstammering volubility, smiled faintly as she acknowledged theintroduction. The man was as impersonal and as sure of himself as anyshe ever had met. She looked him fairly in the eyes.
"How did you come to advise my brother to go farther west?" she asked,but while her voice was casual, her look challenged him.
"It was given upon certain conditions of the weather this winter,Miss--I do not believe I caught the name."
"No fault of yours," she laughed. "Jerry always ignores it in hisintroductions. It is Jane Saunders. Then it was only in the nature ofa physician's advice?" she persisted, her eyes searching his soul forthe truth.
Tex nodded. "My knowledge of his complaint is very sketchy; but likeall amateurs I paraded what little I had. I thought that perhaps thewinters out here might not be as dry as they are farther west. No doubtit was entirely uncalled for. We will hope so, anyway."
"Are you a physician, Mr. Jones?"
"No, indeed; although I went part way through the course. What littletime I had left from more interesting activities, I gave to study."
"Ye was speakin' about th' aigs an' milk, miss," said Murphy, his facealight with eager anticipation. He chuckled. "Ye needn't be askin' nomore favors av Williams' black heart. I've a little somethin' to showye all, if ye'll step down th' track a bit. An' Costigan is goin' toget him a cow. Th' missus said th' word, an' divvil a bit Mike canwiggle out av it. Ye'll have first call on th' milk, so I hear. Mr.Jones, if ye'll be kind enough to escort Jerry, I'll lead th' march withth' lass."
"Oh, well," sighed Tex, gravely offering his arm to the station agent,"I suppose it _is_ yore party; but I'm admittin' yo're not overlookin'Number One. Lead on, MacDuff." He caught her quick glance at theabrupt change in his language, and smiled to himself. It never paid tobe too well understood by a woman.
"Th' Irish are noted for bein' judges av good whiskey, fine hosses, an'fair wimmin," retorted Murphy. "I'll take no chances of any pearlsbein' cast careless."
"I notice you put th' wimmin last," countered Tex. "Grunt, Jerry!Quick, man! Before Miss Saunders looks around!"
"He said pearly, Mr. Jones," said Jane, laughingly. "I'm afraid heintended it all to be plural."
"It was wrongly written in th' first place," complained Tex. "Tim hasan uncanny instinct; he only met me about ten minutes ago."
"Ten is a-plenty, sometimes," chuckled Murphy. "But I'll own to havin'a previous sight av ye. Wait now: here we are."
They stopped in front of the toolhouse and watched Murphy walk along oneof the two ties spanning the drainage ditch at the edge of the roadbed.He
unlocked the doors and flung them wide open as a clamorous cacklingbroke out in the building. On one end of a hand car was a crate ofchickens and leaning against it were several bundles of long stakes. Apile of new lumber could be seen in the back of the shed, while a fatspool of wire rested near the stakes.
Murphy turned, his face red with delight at his surprise. "There ye are,miss," he cried proudly. "A round dozen av them, with their lord an'master. I couldn't let that Mike Costigan go puttin' on his airs overhis boss, so now there'll be aigs for aignoggs that I'll have a claimto. For safe-keepin' we'll build th' coop in yore back yard where itwill be right handy for ye. Ye can now tell Williams to kape his aigs.If he don't understand yer soft language, I'll be tellin' him in a wayhe can't mistook."
"You angel!" whispered Jane, tears in her eyes. She was not misled byhis remarks about eggnoggs. "Oh, Tim--you shouldn't have done it! Whydidn't _I_ think of it? And how is it that Mrs. Costigan suddenly needsa cow? If I've heard her aright, she has stalwart, old-fashioned ideas,bless her, about nursing children. And I never knew she was partial toeggnoggs. Jerry, what shall we do to them?"
Jerry blew his nose with energy. "For a cent I'd lick Murphy right now,and Mike immediately afterward," he laughed, sizing up the huge bulk ofbone, sinew, and toil-hardened muscle of the section-boss. "Tim, youand your boys are the one redeeming feature of this country. And youredeem it fully. How long have you been plotting this?"
"G'wan with ye, th' pair av ye!" chuckled the section-boss, his faceflaming. "If Casey hadn't stopped th' train down by this shed yesterdaywe couldn't 'a' surprised ye. Ye never saw a consignment handledquicker or more gintly."
"And I was wondering why he did it," confessed Jerry. "The brakeman saidhe was trying his brakes. Tim, you should be ashamed of yourself!"
"An' I've been that, many a time," retorted Murphy. He turned to Tex."I'll be leavin' it to ye, Mr. Jones, if a man hasn't certain rightsafter bein' nursed for three weeks by a brown-haired angel, an' knowin'that th' same angel nursed Mrs. Costigan an' th' twins whin they was alldown with th' measles. Patient an' unselfish, she was, with never across word, day or night--an' always with a smile on her pretty face,like th' sun on Lake Killarney."
Tex looked gravely and judicially at Jane Saunders. "You haven't a wordto say, Miss Saunders. The verdict of the court is for the defendant.Case dismissed, without costs of either party against the other." Heturned to the section-boss. "When are we buildin' that coop, Murphy?"he asked.
"Tomorrow, Tex," answered the Irishman. "We'll be after runnin' th'darlin's up there right away, an' come back for th' lumber an' wire.That'll give us an early start. Th' sidin' will let us ride 'em nearhalfway an' save a lot of flounderin' in th' sand."
"We'd better come back for th' darlin's after th' coop is ready for'em," said Tex, grinning. "If I know coyotes as well as I reckon I do,th' harem will be a lot safer in this here shed; an' I'm glad it's got aboard floor, too. Lend a hand here an' we'll change th' cargo on thismeek steed. _Gently, brother, gently pray_. Now for th' lumber." Heburst into a chant: "_I once was a bloody pirate bold, an' I sailed onth' Spanish Main, yo-ho! Th' treasure chests were full of gold, whichgave us all a pain you know._" He glanced at one of his hands andgrimaced. "Blast th' splinters. An' would you look at that corn?Blessed if th' man hasn't got enough to feed another Custer expedition!Murphy, you certainly do grow on one!"
Murphy paused with a huge armful of lumber, and looked suspicious. "Onone what?" he demanded.
"Prickly pear plant, I reckon, in lieu of anything else; or on amesquite tree, perhaps, for you shore do know beans when th' pod's open._An' it stopped--short--never to go again, when th' old--man--died,_"hummed Tex. "All aboard. Clang-clang! Clang-clang! I can still hearthat bell in my sleep. Yo're th' engineer, Murphy; I'll act in anadvisory capacity, at th' same time pushing hard on my very own handle.Ladies first! Miss Saunders, if you please! That's right, for you mightas well ride in state. Up you go. From your elevated position you mayscan the country roundabout and give us warning of the approach ofredskins. _A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, a Jug of Wine, a Loafof Bread_--and fried eggs--_Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!_"
"I see no redskins, Advisory Capacity," called Jane, who thoroughly wasenjoying herself; "but hither rides a horseman on a horse."
Tex looked up and saw a recklessly riding puncher coming toward them.He slyly exchanged grins with Murphy and kept on pushing.
The rider, smiling as well as a swollen face and throbbing temples wouldpermit, slid to a stand, removed his sombrero and bowed.
"My name's Tom Watkins," he said. "I just come down to tell you,friend, that I've learned what you done for me, awhile back. I'm----"
Tex interrupted him. "You just came down in time, Thomas, to drop yoreuseful rope over that bobbin' handle an' head west at a plain,unornamental walk. High-heeled boots was never made for pushin' han'cars over ties an' rocks. An' I suspect Murphy of stealin' a ride everytime my head goes down."
"Then I'd be cheatin' myself," retorted Murphy, looking upon thenewcomer with strong favor. "Th' car would be after stoppin' every timeI rode, like th' little boat with th' big whistle." He turned to theagent. "Jerry, there's no tellin' how fast this car will be goin', for Imisdoubt that animal's intentions. Suppose ye run along an' throw th'switch for us. Hadn't ye better get down, miss?"
"Not for the world, Tim!"
The disfigured puncher grinned even wider, dropped his rope over thehandle with practiced art and wheeled his horse. "What'll I do when Igit to th' end of th' rails?" he asked, mischievous deviltry, unabashedby what had befallen him, shining in his eyes, and there was an eagercuriosity revealed by his voice.
"What'll he do, Murphy?" demanded Tex.
"He'll stop, blast him!" emphatically answered the section-boss.
"You'll stop, Thomas," said Tex. "As Hamlet said: 'Go on, I'll followthee!'"
"But he's not nearly a ghost yet," objected Jane. Her cheeks wereflushed, her eyes sparkling from the fun she was having. Many days hadpassed since she had had so good a time. It was a treat to get awayfrom the ever-lasting "Yes, ma'am" and "No, ma'am" which had been theformula for conversation with everyone to whom she had talked except herbrother and Murphy.
"No, ma'am," said the puncher. "Not yet."
Jane shuddered and grimaced at Tex as the rider turned away. "That'sall I've heard since I've been out here," she softly called down to him.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, not daring to look up. The procession wendedonward to the edification of sundry stray dogs, and Costigan's goats,tethered near the toolshed, promptly went into consultation as to whatmeasures to pursue, apparently deciding upon a defensive course ofaction if the worst came to pass.
The end of the rails reached, the engineer of the motive power stopped,sized up the ground roundabout and then looked hopefully at hiscompanions. "Reckon we can manage th' haul. Totin' them boards afootshore will be tirin'. Where we drivin' to?"
Jerry pointed out the little house, but shook his head. "We can't makeit."
"Cowboy," said Tex, "that ain't no plowhorse. When she feels th' dragof this vehicle in th' sand she'll display her frank an' candid thoughtsabout it."
"Then blindfold her," suggested Tom Watkins. "She won't know it ain't asteer she's fastened to. You fellers can git behind an' push, too."
"'_Sic transit gloria mundi,_'" murmured Jane, preparing to descend toearth.
"'_Sic transit_' glorious Monday," repeated Tex, stepping to assist her."Only it ain't Monday. Take my honest hand, lady, and jump." He turnedand looked at the grinning engineer. "Now, you cactus-eatin' burro, tryyore handkerchief. If _our_ idea works, all right; if yore idea don'twork, it's Murphy's fault. Commence!"
"I'm thinkin' it would work better if th' car was off th' track,"caustically commented Murphy. "I misdoubt if we can climb that buffer;th' flanges on these wheels are deep an' strong an' I'm shore we can'tpull th' rails over. If th' engineer
will lend a hand here we mebby canclear th' track without unloadin'. I'll take th' off side; ye byes taketh' other, which makes it even, for it is a well-known fact that oneIrish section-boss is worth two punchers. Are ye ready, now?"
"I've heard they can run faster than two cowpunchers," retorted Tex."For the ashes of your fathers, _lift_! Try it again--now. Inch herover--that's the way. Now then, _lift_! Once more--_lift_! Phew! Allright: proceed, cowboy," he grunted.
"Hold yer horses!" shouted Murphy. "What's th' good av a section-bossthat can't lay a track?" he demanded, taking up a two-by-four, Texfollowing his lead. The car was lifted onto the timbers and theprocession went on again. "Will they spread, now?" queried Murphydoubtfully, watching them closely. He had just decided they would notwhen they did. After numerous troubles the little house was reached,the lumber unloaded, and the car sent back without rails.
"Goin' to make any more hauls?" asked the horseman.
"We are not," said Tex with emphasis. "We could 'a' toted this stuffover in half th' time. _Tempus_ fidgets, an' I'm catchin' it. Yoreideas are plumb fine till they're put in practice."
"_My_ ideas?" queried the disfigured rider, his rising eyebrows pushingwrinkles onto his forehead. "Didn't you tell me to chuck my rope overthat bobbin' handle?"
"Do you allus have to do what yo're told?" retorted Tex. "Answer methat! Do you?"
The rider looked down at Jane, who was nearly convulsed, and sighed withdeep regret, and because her presence forbade the only appropriateretort, he shook his head sorrowfully and turned to haul the car back tothe track.
"Hey!" called Tex. "Sling them spools of barb wire across yore saddle.We might as well get more of that stuff while we have yore good-naturedassistance. Just chuck it on any place an' bring it here."
"You just can't chuck a spool of wire on a saddle any place," retortedthe puncher. "Was you speakin' about ideas?"
"An' while yer about it," said Murphy, "ye might bring back a spade, th'saws, three hammers, that box av nails, an' them staples. Th' staplesare in a little keg--th' one without th' handle. I've a mind to startbuildin' today. What do ye say, Tex? Good for ye: yer a man after meown heart."
Despite his aches and bruises the puncher's feet left the stirrups andslowly went up until he stood with his shoulder on the saddle. He wavedhis legs three times and resumed the correct posture for riding. Wordswere hopelessly inadequate. He looked at Jane, who was shrieking andpointing at the ground under the horse. Thomas craned his neck andlooked down. He thereupon dismounted and picked up one Colt's .45, onepocket-knife, one watch which now needed expert attention, variouscoins, a plug of tobacco, and three horseshoe nails. Murphy stared athim, spat disgustedly, and attacked the pile of lumber.
After the puncher's return the work went on rapidly, and when the roofof the coop was finished, the three perspiring workmen stepped back toadmire it.
"We've got to slat them windows," said Tex, thinking of coyotes.
"An' we got thirteen nests to build," said Thomas Watkins.
"Th' saints be praised!" ejaculated Murphy, staring incredulously at thebattle-scarred recruit. "Mebby there'll be a coincidence about twelvelayin' all at once, but there won't be no thirteenth on th' job. Mebbyyer thinkin' th' Sultan will nest down alongside them to set them a goodexample? Six boxes will be a-plenty, Tommy, my lad."
Tommy tilted his sombrero to scratch his head. "Well, if you reckonthere won't be no stampedin', mebby six will be enough, 'though I'd hateto think of 'em milling frantic for their turn on th' nests. An' whilewe're speakin' of calamities, I'm sayin' good chickens will fly over th'fence you fellers aim to build. Six feet ain't high enough, nohow."
"We clip their wings, Tommy," enlightened Tex.
"We clip one wing close up," corrected Murphy. "That lifts 'em on oneside an' flops 'em around in a circle. I can easy see you ain't no _henpuncher_."
"Th' principle is sound in theory an' proved by practice," said Tex."Just like when you saw off th' laigs on one side of a steer. Thatallus keeps 'em from jumpin' fences."
"Too cussed bad you stopped that miner," growled Watkins. "I'd 'a' beena whole lot better off dead."
"We're sorry, too," retorted Murphy. "Now, then; we got a four-sidedfence to build, three posts to a side. That's a dozen holes to dig."
"Tell you what," suggested Tommy, winking at Tex. "You can handle aspade all around us, one Irish section-boss bein' worth two punchers.Besides we only got one spade for th' three of us. You dig th' northan' south sides while me an' Tex start on nests an' put up th' roosts.Then we'll dig th' east an' west sides while yo're settin' yore postsan' tampin' 'em."
"An I'll have mine set while you fellers git ready to start on yerroosts," boasted Murphy, grabbing the spade and starting to work. JaneSaunders, who had come up unobserved, suddenly stuffed her handkerchiefin her mouth and fled back to the house.
There ensued great hammering and frantic dirt throwing. Tex and hiscompanion were hampered by mirth and were only building the last nestwhen Murphy stuck his head in the door.
"Ye wouldn't last in no gang av mine!" he jeered. "I got me holes dugan' th' posts set. Set 'em single-handed an' they're true as a plumbline."
"All right, Murphy," said Tommy without looking up. "Run along an' doth' other two while we're finishin' up. It's gettin' late."
"Tryin' to lay it onto me, eh?" demanded Murphy. "You an' yer two postholes! Ye must think--" he stopped short, thought a moment, and thenslyly glanced out at the unfinished sides of the enclosure. "Hivin saveus!" he muttered and slipped out without another word.
Tommy wiped his eyes and leaned against the wall for support. "Foursides," he babbled. "Three to a side: that's a dozen holes to dig! Hewill make smart remarks about my thirteen nests, will he?"
"Figures don't lie, an' logic is logic," laughed Tex. "Reckon we can'tfinish th' fence today; but it don't make no difference, anyhow. Themchickens are as safe in th' toolshed as they'd be up here. Did youclose th' doors when you left?" he demanded anxiously.
"Yes; too many hungry, stray dogs around. I'd liked to 'a' gone to th'finish with you boys, but I got to get back to th' ranch. Climb upbehind me an' I'll let you off at th' hotel."
"I'll wait for Murphy," replied Tex. "He'll mebby need help aboutsomethin'. I'm cussed glad to know you, Watkins; an' I've shore had acircus today."
"You pulled me out of a bad hole, Tex; an' you shore as shootin' dug onefor yoreself. This town's run by th' miners, a lot of hoof-poundin'grubs, with pack mules for pardners. There's been feelin's between usan' them walkin' fools," here he voiced the riders' contempt for men whowalked, "for a long time. Yo're a puncher, an' you shore come out flatan' took sides today. Tell you what--either you come out to th' ranchwith me, or I'll stay here in town with you. Come along: we'll find youa good cayuse, an' not rob you, neither."
"Can't do it, Tommy," replied Tex, warming to his new acquaintance. "Igot my eye on a roan beauty an' I'm goin' to own him by tomorrow. Hewon't cost me a red cent. So far's danger is concerned, I ain't in nonethat my tongue or my six-gun can't get me out of. But I'll ride out an'pay yore outfit a visit after I get th' roan."
"That's th' third best cayuse in this section," replied Tommy."Williams owns all three of 'em, too. There ain't nothin' on th' ranchthat can touch any of 'em." He paused and looked closely at hiscompanion. "You heard any war-talk ag'in' th' agent?"
"Only a rumblin', far off," answered Tex. "Th' dust ain't plain yet, soI can't tell how it's headin'. What do you know about it?"
"Not half as much as Murphy, I bet," replied Watkins. "You ask him.It's a cussed shame for a man to be hounded by a pack of dogs. Well,I'm off. Remember that you got friends on th' C Bar when you need 'em,which you shore as shootin' will. We'll come a-runnin'." He shookhands and went out, Tex loafing after him as far as the door. "Tim, Ireckon you an' Tex can manage to get along without me now, so I'll driftalong. I'm due at th' ranch."
"Whose?" asked Murphy
carelessly, trying a post to see if it was wellset.
"Julius Caesar Curtis: Judy, for short," answered Watkins, holding outhis hand. "You can leave th' other four posts for me to set when I comein again," he grinned.
"For a bye's-sized chew av tobaccy I'd skin ye," chuckled Tim, shakingthe hand heartily. "Much obliged, Thomas, me son. Come in an' see uswhen ye can. There's so few decent men in this part av th' country thatye'll be welcome as th' flowers av spring."
Tommy swung into the saddle, raised his hat to the woman who appeared inthe kitchen door, and whirled around to leave.
"Mr. Watkins!" called Jane, running toward the little group. "You arenot going to leave without your supper? Your place is set and Jerry ispouring the coffee."
Tommy Watkins flushed, swallowed his Adam's apple, looked blankly at Texand Tim, stammered gibberish, and managed to convey the impression thatthe salvation of the ranch and its outfit depended on his immediatedeparture. His mute appeal for moral support was coldly received by hisfellow-builders.
"I do not wish to be rude, Mr. Watkins," smiled Jane, "and I would notwish to turn you from your duty: but I shall be a little disappointed ifyou won't allow me to show my poor appreciation of what you have donefor us. But I will not press you: if not tonight, then some othertime?"
The savior of the C Bar flushed deeper, received scowling looks from hislate bosom companions, who knew a liar when they heard one, and heducked his head quickly. "Yes, ma'am," he blurted eagerly. "I'd admireto stay, but Curtis shore is dependin' on me to git back. If you'llexcuse me, ma'am--I--so--by," and he was whirling away in a cloud ofdust, his sombrero held out at arm's length.
Murphy looked gravely at Tex and flushed slightly. "He has an importantjob, miss," he said.
Tex looked gravely at Murphy and did not flush. "A great weight forshoulders so young," he lied, suspecting, however, that Tommy might haveacquired, during the course of the day, a very great weight, indeed. Hehad observed his glances at Jane.
She smiled inscrutably and turned to look at the coop, clapping herhands in delight. "Isn't it fine, and new, and piney!" she exclaimed,sniffing the tangy odor. "And it looks so strong--I must peek in for amoment."
There was not much room to spare when they all had entered, a fact whichTex easily explained.
"You see, Miss Saunders," he said, waving his hands, "it is to serveonly as a nesting place and a shelter from predatory animals. Duringthe day your flock will roam about the enclosure outside; but attwilight, without fail, it must be confined securely in this coop. Noself-respecting coyote will be restrained for five minutes by thewire--he either will force himself between the strands, or dig under;and there are any number of those thieves around this town. They cannotbe trapped or baffled--they will outwait or outwit any watcher. Theonly thing that will stop them is something physically impregnable.
"Tim and I intend to weave slats and laths between the lower strands ofwire, running them vertically up from the ground, in which their lowerends will be driven. They will offer some protection, but their chiefvalue will be to keep the chickens from getting outside. No coyote willbe bothered by them for very long, and in order to save yourself thelabor of filling up the tunnels they surely will dig if they can get inin no other way, I'd advise you to leave the fence gate wide open everynight.
"We lay this floor for that reason. No matter what they are able to do,they can't get into the coop. I'll wager that you will find tunnelsrunning under it before long. Don't fail to close this building beforenightfall, and your flock will be safe."
"Amen," said Murphy. "They're cunnin' divvils, coyotes are!"
"I don't know how to thank you," said Jane, impulsively putting herhands on the arms of her companions. "Think what it will mean toJerry--a dozen fresh eggs a day!"
Murphy chuckled. "Four a day will be doin' good, an' not that many forawhile. I'll get ye some grit, an' make a batch av whitewash."
"Hey!" called a voice. "Everything's getting cold!"
"There's Jerry, playing domestic tyrant," laughed Jane. "Isn't itremarkable what a difference it makes to the cook? He thinks nothing ofmaking me wait. Come on--you can tell me all about chicken raisingafter supper." She cast a furtive glance at Tex, and past him at thetwilight-softened range beyond, where Tommy Watkins somewhere rode tosave his ranch and outfit.