CHAPTER NINE
"The boys don't mean no harm, but it jest seems they can't come to townwithout things happenin' when they mix in," Limber had said when heparted from Powell.
The cowpuncher went to the corral, mounted his pony and rode down therailroad track to the shipping pens. The cattle were in good shape,gates fastened securely. No matter what the short-comings of the boys ofthe Diamond H, they never slighted any detail of the work; but Limberfelt the responsibility of it all.
When Peanut was properly cared for, his master ambled carelessly alongthe street until he reached the swinging doors of the bar-room of theWillcox Hotel.
"Any of my outfit here?" he asked the man behind the bar. "I jest got infrom Hot Springs with Doctor Powell."
A number of men in the place called to him, others came nearer Limberand held out hands, and he was the centre of a small group when heuttered his next words.
"The Apaches killed ol' Doctor King last night in the Hot Springs Canonbelow the Circle Cross. We jest brung in his body for the Coroner."
Exclamations of sincere regret were voiced by his hearers, for each ofthem could recall little acts of kindliness to himself or to some one heknew. Limber was plied with questions, and gave the meagre details, buthe did not speak of the narrow escape of Mrs. Glendon and her child.
Comments were interrupted as the doors swung back once more. Bronco,Holy and Roarer stood bunched together and surveyed the assemblage withbrooding eyes. Then, they saw Limber. Their solemn countenanceslightened, and Bronco grasped the foreman's arm, leading him to a tableat the rear of the room, where they all slumped into chairs. Limberstudied each face.
"Well, what have you done this time?" he asked in a resigned voice.
"Say, Limber, we're in a hell of a mess," confessed Bronco abjectly. Theother two punchers confirmed the assertion by silence. "We was waitin'for you to get us straightened out, someway."
Limber made no comment until the situation had been fully explained, buthis eyes were anxious and his lips harboured no smile.
"It ain't a question now of how we got into it," he finally said,assuming the onus of the episode with the culprits, as a matter ofcourse.
They had slept side by side in their blankets, bunkhouse and range; hadshared chuck and tobacco, storms and fair weather, and, if necessary,each would have used his last cartridge in defense of the others. "Thewust of it was that we all promised the Boss not to stir up trouble thistime. It's all right about Walton; he don't count in this deal, but it'sdamn tough on the woman. I don't know what to do about it."
"Gosh! Limber, we've got to fix it up--someway," Bronco's tones weredesperate. "If we don't, the whole bunch of women in this yer town willbe on the war-path after our scalps, and the Diamond H outfit will behuntin' new ranges. You kin lick a man if he gits fresh and sassy, butwhen a petticoat goes on the rampage, the only thing a feller kin do iscut and run."
"It's because a woman is mixed in it that I'm bothered," Limber went on."You boys know the Boss will stand for pretty near anythin', so long'sthar ain't women in it. He's been pretty plain about that, and it's theone thing he'll fire the whole bunch for. It's the worst mix-up we evergot into."
The foreman looked at the floor, and the other men looked at him. Limberknew he must either tell the truth and clear himself in the eyes ofTraynor, or remain silent and take the blame with the others; eventhough this might mean losing his job as foreman of the Diamond H. Hisadmiration for Traynor was deep and sincere. It hurt to lose Traynor'sfaith in him.
"We're sure all down and out," Holy's voice was lugubrious, and he letthe cigarette he had made, fall unlighted on the table.
"I jest felt that if you were turned loose on the range today that youwould stampede. I didn't figure you'd get here so quick with the cattle,and, the trouble about King kept me back. I wisht I'd got here sooner,so's to round you up before any damage was done. What started you,anyway, Holy?"
"I thought it was a fake picter Walton showed me, until I seen the womanget off'n the train," responded Holy feebly. "Thar's a Kid, too. 'Boutfive or six years old. Kinder peaked and sickly and scarey."
A long, low whistle was Limber's only comment on this additionalcomplication.
"She looks young to have a Kid that big," Bronco put in, "But, then youcan't look inter a woman's mouth to tell her age, like it was a horse."
Limber's meditations covered many moments, but neither Bronco, Roarernor Holy interrupted his thoughts. At last he looked up, and they leanedacross the table hopefully.
"Thar don't seem anythin' to do exceptin' ask Mrs. Green to help usfigure it out," was his decision.
"Gee! That's just the medicine!" agreed the rest with alacrity, noddingat each other in happy approval. "You kin sure fix it up with her,Limber," was Holy's verdict. Limber's grey eyes were sombre as hecontemplated the relieved faces.
"Yep!" he said positively, rising as he spoke, "It's the only thing todo. Come along."
Consternation eclipsed the smiles; none of them got up from theirchairs. Limber looked at them, then said, "Come along."
Slowly the chairs were pushed back with a loud rasping noise; slowly thesombreros were transferred from wooden pegs above the table to the headsof the three cowpunchers; slowly the spurred feet moved toward the door,passed draggingly through it, and trailed meekly behind Limber until hereached the rooms above the depot, occupied by the Agent and his wife.Limber knocked. The cowboys' hearts were thumping more loudly thanLimber's knuckles, it seemed to them.
The door opened, they did not look up, but the feminine voice that badethem enter, sounded ominous. With eyes still downcast, and hats inhands, they followed Limber's heels. They saw nothing else in that roomexcept the rugs on the floor. Then Limber's voice broke the deadlysilence.
"The boys say they've got into more trouble on the range, Mrs. Green,"Limber said soberly.
"I should say they have," she retorted vehemently. "They ought to beashamed of themselves, putting a woman in such a position in a strangeplace! Making her the laughing stock of the whole country! She's beencrying her eyes out, ever since she got here. And, you almost frightenedthe boy to death with your idiot ideas of fun! It takes a big brain todo those things!" she paused breathlessly to look at them with flashingeyes.
Not one of the Diamond H boys would have hesitated at any danger, butnow, their one desire was to scurry ignominiously down stairs and hitthe home trail without delay. They cast longing eyes at the door thatled to freedom and safety. It was closed. Between them and it stood anangry woman.
"We came to you because we all are stampeded, Mrs. Green," pleadedLimber, and the men, hearing the incriminating pronoun, swore allegianceto Limber for the rest of their lives. "Can't you get us headed right,somehow?"
Mollified, she answered, "What had you thought of doing?"
No one had thought of anything, but they were all loathe to admit it, soeach one cudgelled his brains vigorously.
"Say, so long as we busted up the weddin'," gasped Bronco, "we'll chipin and refund her fare--ship her back in a box car--I mean--pay her wayto whar she come from. Won't we, boys?"
"Sure!" was the chorus.
Now that the ice had been broken, the situation was less strained.
"Derned--hanged--! Oh, say, Mrs. Green! We'll do any damned thing yousay, to put an end to this yer doggone millin';" floundered Holy,struggling to be intelligible without profanity. "We never figgered itwould buffalo no one but ol' Walton, and to Hell--Oh, shucks! I mean hedon't count noways!"
Holy paused and wiped his perspiring face with a red cotton handkerchiefthat was not more vivid than his own complexion. His effort had beenheroic. Mrs. Green recognized it, and her smile refused to be suppressedlonger. A dimple sneaked into her cheek. The boys breathed more freely.Dimples didn't frighten them very badly, unless one of them was alonewith it.
"Sit down," suggested Mrs. Green, "and let's talk it over together.Maybe we can work out the trouble." Roarer, Bronco and Holy depositedthemselves cautious
ly on edges of chairs, their huge hands hangingpathetically helpless between their leather-clad knees. Their hatsdecorated the floor and they were conscious of tousled heads.
"You see it all came through the child being delicate. Lung trouble, thedoctor said, and Arizona the only hope."
"He sure does look peaked," Bronco hastened to agree. If Mrs. Green hadsaid the King of England was hiding in the kitchen pantry at thatmoment, Bronco would have backed that statement with his very life.
"Her folks are all dead," continued the Agent's wife, "and she has beensupporting the child. It took all the money she had saved, to get here."
"That's tough luck," commented Roarer with a squeak of emotion. Thenstartled at the sound of his own voice, he subsided.
"She has got to stay in Arizona on account of the child's health," Mrs.Green explained. "Walton answered her advertisement asking for a placewhere she could work in return for board for herself and the child.Nobody else answered her. Then he proposed marriage, and she agreed. Shesays the boy means more to her than her own life."
"Well, if she wants to marry Walton," Limber volunteered, "we'll ropehim and get her brand on him before you can wink, and you tell her sofor us. But, I don't know but we'd be handin' her a worse deal than thefust time."
"I told her what kind of a man he was. She never wants to see himagain." Mrs. Green's voice was sharp, hope seemed to die in the breastsof the four men.
"Well," Roarer's tones rose shrilly in his excitement and nervousness,"Do you think any of us'd do in place of ol' Walton? Seems to be up toone of us to make good. Of course, Limber ain't in on this deal; but therest of us is, ain't we, boys?"
Weakly the rest assented. With deliberate cruelty Mrs. Green criticallysurveyed each candidate for matrimonial honours. Her eyes roved slowlyfrom their heads to their boots, while their ears grew red, feetshuffled uneasily and mouths were compressed grimly. Cost what it might,the boys of the Diamond H were going to see the trouble straightenedout. The clock measured two minutes, but it seemed two hours to thoseunder inspection.
"I don't believe that would be the remedy," she concluded. The mensighed with unconcealed relief, and each registered a vow to get evenwith Roarer later on. It had been a close shave. The agony would neverbe forgotten.
"I think she had better stay with me until she finds work," offered theAgent's wife. "She can help me about the place, and I've got some sewingI want to finish up. Then, you know, I have to help Jack a good bit downin the office. Meantime, she could be prospecting for a place that wouldsuit her. She understands house-keeping, cooking and has been employedin office work. So it won't be long before some one will snap her up,out here."
Limber nodded and said gratefully, "We sure are much obliged to you,Mrs. Green," then his hand was thrust into a hip pocket. Had Mrs. Greenbeen a man, she might have been alarmed at the movement, but the handcame out clutching crumpled greenbacks. "It's up to the Diamond H outfitto look out for her till she gets on her feet good and square, and we'llsure be proud to do it."
With hasty awkwardness Holy, Roarer and Bronco added to the donationLimber laid on the table, glad there was something at last that could bedone.
"I'm sure we can get things straightened out before long, some way, andI'll do all I can to help her and you, too;" promised the woman.
"I'll talk it over with the Boss when we get home," suggested Limber.
The other men looked at him quickly, but after they said "good-bye" toMrs. Green, Limber parted from them. They sat side by side on a wooden,backless bench in front of the Willcox Hotel, and discussed thesituation with its new angles.
"Limber ain't to blame, and we're goin' to let the Boss know it,too--and then we'll take our medicine like little men," was Bronco'sultimatum, which was endorsed by Holy and Roarer; but their hearts wereheavy at the prospect of being "fired" by the Boss of the Diamond H. Noother ranch, or Boss, or foreman would ever be the same to them.
The Long Dim Trail Page 9