CHAPTER IV
Y BAR COLSTON TALKS
"There's Colston, now!" exclaimed Cameron, rising and hailing a riderwho approached leading two saddled horses. The rider drew up, Camerondescended to the little white gate, and a moment later was helping theranchman to tie his horses to the picket fence. As they approached theporch, Endicott noted the leathery gauntness of face that bespoke yearson the open range, and as their hands met he also noted the hard, firmgrip, and the keen glance of the grey eyes that seemed to be taking hismeasure. The man greeted the ladies with grave deference, and seatedhimself in the empty chair.
"Well, I got here, Endicott, but it was a considerable chore. Ain't asyoung as I was once. Time I was lettin' go, I guess. Seventy yearsold--an' young-hearted as any buck on the range--but along towardsnight, after a hard day's ride, I find myself beginin' to realize I be'nsomewheres, an' the old bed-roll looks better to me than a carload ofwhite-faces."
Instinctively, Endicott liked this man--the bluff heartiness of him, andthe alert litheness of motion that belied the evidence of the whitemoustache and silvery white hair. "I hope I shall be half the man youare at your age," he laughed.
"You will be--if you buy the Y Bar outfit. Believe me young man, there'senough to do around that outfit to keep a man up an' jumpin' if he was ahundred an' seventy. A man just naturally ain't got time to get old!"
"Win tells me the ranch is sixty miles from here," smiled Alice, "andthat's a pretty good ride for anybody."
"Pretty good ride! Young woman, if that was all the ridin' I done todayI'd b'en here before breakfast. I couldn't get away till afternoon--upbefore daylight this mornin', rode two horses plumb off their feethuntin' the wagons--foreman quit yesterday--best blamed foreman I everhad, too. Just up an' quit cold because he took a notion. Tried everywhich way to get him to stay--might's well talk to a rock. Away he went,Lord knows where, leavin' me nothin' on my mind except bein' owner,manager, ranch boss, an' wagon boss, besides tryin' to sell the outfit.Confounded young whelp! Best doggone cow-hand on the range."
"Why did you have to hunt wagons, and what has a wagon boss got to dowith a cattle ranch?" asked the girl.
"The wagons are the round-up--the rodeo. We're right in the middle ofthe calf round-up. The grub wagon an' the bed wagon makes what youmight call the field headquarters for the round-up--move every day tillthey cover the whole range."
"How interesting!" exclaimed the girl, "I know I'm going to love it!"
"Sure is interesting," remarked the old man, drily, "with the wagonstwenty or thirty miles out in the foothills, an' workin' over into thesheep country, an' eighteen or twenty knot-headed cow-hands hatin'sheep, an' no foreman to hold 'em level, an' hayin' on full tilt at thehome ranch, an' the ranch hands all huntin' the shade! Yes'm,interestin's one word for it--but there's a shorter one that I'm afraidthe parson, here, wouldn't recommend that describes it a heap better."
"By the way," said Endicott, "Mr. Cameron tells me that the cattle andsheep situation is a rather delicate one hereabouts. He says that youhold the respect of both factions--that you seem to have a peculiarknack in keeping the situation in hand----"
"Peculiar knack!" exclaimed the ranchman, "peculiar knack's got nothin'to do with it! Common sense, young man! Just plain common sense, an'maybe the ability to see that other folks has got rights, same as Ihave. The Y Bar stands for a square deal all the way around--when itsown calves are branded, it quits brandin', an' it don't hold that openrange means cattle range an' not sheep range. Any fair-minded man cantake the Y Bar an' run it like I've run it, an' make money, an' let theother fellow make money, too. There's plenty of range for all of us ifwe keep our head. If you're afraid of buyin' into a war--don't buy. Ican sell any day to parties I know are just layin' to get the Y Bar, an'the minute they got it, trouble would start an' there'd be hella-poppin' all along the Mizoo. Somewhere there must be a man that'll buythat is fair-minded, an' not afraid to take holt an' run the outfit likeI've run it."
Endicott flushed slightly: "I am not afraid of it. I only wanted toknow----"
"An' you've got a right to know. If we deal, I'll stay with you longenough to wise you up to the whole layout. That would be no more thanright. I'm considerable used to judgin' men, an' I think you can handleit. Let 'em know right off the reel that you ain't afraid of any of'em--an' get this before you start out: A man ain't God A'mighty becausehe happens to run cattle, an' he ain't the Devil because he runs sheep,neither. There's cattlemen on this range I wouldn't trust as far as Icould throw a bull by the tail, an' there's sheep-men can have anythingI've got just on their say-so--mind you, that ain't the generalrun--pickin' 'em in the dark, I'd tie to a cow-man every time--butthere's exceptions, as the fellow says, to every rule. If thatconfounded Tex hadn't quit----"
"_Tex!_" cried Alice, and Endicott smiled at the glad eagerness of thetone.
The old cattleman glanced at her in surprise: "Yes, my foreman. Best manon the range--handled men the easiest you ever saw. Never had anytrouble with the sheep outfits--but just the same, there ain't asheep-man south of the river that would care to try to put anything overon him--nor no one else, neither. There ain't any bluff an' blusterabout him, he's the quietest hand you ever saw. But, somehow, lookin'into them eyes of his--a man just naturally stops to think--that's all."
"Oh, what is he like? Tell me about him! What is his name?"
"Name's Tex. That's all I know, an' that's all----"
"Tex Benton?" interrupted the girl.
The man regarded her curiously. "Maybe, or, Tex Smith, or Tex Jones, orTex somethin else."
"I--we knew a Tex, once----"
Colston laughed: "There's lots of Texes here in the cow-country. Tryin'to find one that you didn't know no more about than that would be likeme goin' East an' sayin' I knew a man by the name of John."
"How long has he worked for you?"
"He quit last evenin'. If he'd of stayed till day after tomorrow, itwould have been just a year." The old man's voice had softened, and hisgaze strayed to the far hills. "I made him foreman when he'd b'en withme a month," he continued after a short pause. "I can pick men." Anotherpause. "He--he called me 'Dad'."
"Did he know you were going to sell?" asked Endicott.
The old man shook his head.
"Then, why did he quit?" Somehow, the question sounded harsh, but theman seemed not to notice. There was an awkward silence during which theold man continued to stare out over the hills.
"He quit to get drunk," he said abruptly, and Endicott detected a slighthuskiness in his tone.
Across the table, Alice gasped--and the sound was almost a sob.
Colston cleared his throat roughly, and turned his eyes to the girl:"That's the way I feel about it, young woman. I got to know him mightywell, an' I know what was in him. From the time he went to work for metill he quit, he never took a drink--an', God knows it wasn't because hedidn't want one! He fought it just like he fought bad horses, an' likehe'd of fought men if he'd had to--square an' open. He'd give away anadvantage rather than take one. He was like that.
"I saw him ride an outlaw, once--a big, vicious killer--a devil-horse.The Red King, we called him, he's run with the wild bunch for years. Twomen had tried him. We buried one where he lit. The other had folks. Texrun him a week an' trapped him at a water-hole--then, he _rode him_!"The old man's eyes were shining now, and his fist smote the table top."Ah, that was a ride--with the whole outfit lookin' on!" Colston pausedand glanced about the faces at the table, allowing his eyes to rest uponAlice who was listening eagerly, with parted lips. "Did you ever noticehow sometimes without any reason, things gets kind of--ofonnatural--kind of feel to 'em that's _different_? Well, this ride waslike that. I've seen hundreds of bad horses rode, an' the boys allyellin' an' bettin', but this time there wasn't no bettin', an' the onlysounds was the sound made by the Red King. It wasn't because theyexpected to see Tex killed--all of 'em had seen men killed ridin' badhorses, an' all of 'em had cheered the next man up. But, somethin' k
ep''em still, with their eyes froze on what they saw. It was uncanny--onehundred an' forty pounds of man tacklin' eleven hundred pounds of redfury. There we stood, the white alkali dust raisin' in a cloud, an' thedevil-horse, crazy mad--screamin' shrill like a woman, snappin' like awolf, frothin', strikin', kickin', buckin' twistin', sunfishin',swappin' ends, shootin' ten foot high an' crashin' down on hisback--fightin' every minute with the whole box of tricks, an' a lot ofnew ones--an' Tex right up in the middle of him with that twisty smileon his face, like he wasn't only half interested in what he was doin'.Didn't even put a bridle on. Rode him with a hackamore--jerked that offan' give him his head--an' he rode straight up, an' raked him an' fannedhim every jump. It wasn't _human_.
"For three days they fought, man an' horse, before the Red King knewhis master--an' when they got through, the Red King would come when Texwhistled. For ten days he rode him, an'--there was a horse! A bay sobright an' sleek that he looked like red gold in the sunlight, mane an'tail black as ink, an' his eyes chain lightnin'--an' the sound of thethunder was in his hoofs.
"It was moonlight the night I rode home from the NL. I had just topped aridge that juts from the foothills into the open range an' all at once Iheard the thunder of hoofs ahead. I slipped into a scatterin' of bullpines at the edge an' waited. I didn't wait long. Along the ridge,runnin' strong an' smooth, like the rush of a storm wind, come a horsean' rider. Before I could make 'em out, I knew by the sound of thehoofs, what horse an' what rider. They passed close--so close I couldhave reached out an' touched 'em with my quirt. Then I saw what made myheart jump an' my eyes fair pop out of my head. The Red King flashedby--no saddle, no bridle, not even an' Injun twitch, mane an' tailflarin' out in the wind of his own goin', an' the white foam flyin' inchunks from his open mouth; an' on his back sat Tex, empty handed an'slick heeled. I thought I caught a glimpse of the twisty smile on hisface, as he swayed on the back of the devil-horse--that, I saw--an' tenrod further on the ridge broke off in a goat-climb! I went limp, an'then--'Whoa!' The sound cracked like a pistol shot. The stallion's feetbunched under him an' three times his length he slid with the looserock flyin' like hailstones! He stopped with his forefeet on the edge,an' his rump nearly touchin' the ground, then he whipped into shape likea steel spring an' stood there on the rim of the ridge, neck an' tailarched, head tossin' out that long black mane, red flarin' nostrilssuckin' in the night air, an' a forefoot pawin' the rock. If Remingtonor old Charlie Russell could have seen what I saw there in themoonlight--man an' horse--the best man, an' the best horse in all thecow-country--the sky black an' soft as velvet, an' the yellow range--noone will paint it--because no one will ever see the like again. Therethey stood, lookin' out over the wild country. And, then Tex slippeddown an' stepped slow to the Red King's head. He put up his arms an'they closed over the arched neck an' his cheek laid against the satinskin of him. For what seemed like a long time they stood there, an' thenTex stepped back an' pointed to the yellow range: 'Go on, boy!' he said,'_Go!_' An' he brought the flat of his hand down with a slap on theshiny flank. For just an instant the horse hesitated an' then he wentover the edge. The loose rocks clattered loud, an' then come the soundof hoofs on the sod as the Red King tore down the valley. Tex watchedhim an' all of a sudden his fingers flew to his lips, an' a shrillwhistle cut the air. Down in the valley the devil-horse stoppedshort--stopped an' whirled at the sound. Then of a sudden he reared highhis forefeet pawin' the air in a fume of fury an' up out of the nightcome the wickedest, wildest scream man ever heard--it was a scream thatgot to a man. It sent cold shivers up an' down my back. The Red King hadcome into his own again--he was defyin' his master. He turned, then, an'the last I saw of him was a red blur in the distance.
"Then Tex turned an' started back along the ridge. I could see his face,now, an' the twisty smile on his lips. I aimed to stay hid an' never leton I'd seen--it seemed somehow best that way. But when he was rightopposite me he stopped an' rolled a cigarette an' the flare of the matchmade my horse jump, an' the next second he was beside me with a gun inhis hand, an' his face flamin' red as the coat of the devil-horse.
"'You saw it?' he says, kind of quiet.
"I shakes my head: 'Yes,' I says, 'but not intentional. I was ridin'home from the NL, an' I slipped in here to let you by.'
"Pretty soon he spoke again kind of slow: 'If it had b'en anyone elsebut you, Dad,' he says, 'I'd of--of--But, you understand, you savvy.He's wild--we're both wild--the Red King an' me. We'll fight likehell--for the fun of fightin'--an' then we'll go back to the wildagain--an' we'll go back when we damn please--did you see him when Iwhistled?'
"'I saw,' I says. To tell the truth, I was kind of catchy in the throat,but I managed to blurt out, 'An' that's why you wouldn't brand him?'
"'Yes,' he says, 'that's why--' An' of a sudden, his voice went hard. 'Ilicked him to show him I could. But, I didn't brand him--an' if anyoneever lays an iron on him, I'll kill him as sure as hell--onless the RedKing beats me to it.'" The old man paused and cleared his throathuskily, and as Alice dabbed at her eyes he noticed that her lipsquivered. "An' that's the way he fought the booze--open an' aboveboard--not takin' the advantage of stayin' away from it. He carried ahalf-pint flask of it all the time. I've seen him take it out an' holdit up to the sunlight an' watch the glints come an' go--for all theworld like the glints on the coat of the Red King. He'd shake it, an'watch the beads rise, an' he'd pull the cork an' smell it--breathe itsflavour an' its bouquet deep into his lungs--an' all the while thelittle beads of cold sweat would be standin' out on his forehead, likedew on a tombstone, an' his tongue would be wettin' his lips, an' hisfingers would be twitchin' to carry it to his mouth. Then his lips wouldtwist into that grin, an' he'd put back the cork, an' put the bottle inhis pocket, an' ride off--_singin'_.
"When I saw him tackle that horse that no man had ever rode, I knew,somehow, that he'd ride him. An' when I'd see him pull that bottle, justtormented crazy for a drink, I knew he wouldn't take a drink. An' thesame way, when he come to me yesterday an' said he was goin' to quit, Iknew he was goin' to quit, an' there was nothin' more to be said. Iasked him why, an' open an' above board he says: 'Because I'm goin' toget drunk.' I couldn't believe my ears at first. It turned me kind ofsick--an' then I knew I loved him. All at once I saw red. You see, Iknew what he didn't know I knew--about his fight with the booze. 'So, itgot you at last, did it?' I says.
"He looked at me with those quiet eyes, an' the twisty smile comeinto his face. 'No, Dad,' he says. 'It didn't get me--an' you knowit didn't get me--an' it never could. I showed it I could lick it,an' that's all there is to it. I'm goin' away now, an' get drunk ashell--deliberate--not because I have to get drunk, but because I wantto.' An' as I watched the boy ride away, I remembered how it had beenwith the Red King--he licked him an' turned him back with the wildbunch--because he wanted to."
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