CHAPTER XLII
MIDDLE LIFE
Ten years have passed. Lafe is a trifle heavier, his figure more set.The gray flecks in his hair are pronounced, and his manner has taken onan assured poise that marks him in the company of his fellows. I haveseen Johnson in many companies, composed of men in all ranks of life. Itmust be admitted that sometimes he looked out of place, because he wasso palpably not of their world; but never has he failed to win respect,frequently has he dominated the assembly, although usually silent.
If there be good stuff buried in a man, increased responsibility willbring it out. Larger responsibilities have contributed to developJohnson's latent strength. He is now not only boss of the Anvil range,but has taken over the management of all its affairs from Horne, who hasgrown feeble in accumulating wealth and depends wholly on Lafe. Inaddition, he has started as a cowman in his own right and pays rental onpasture for eleven hundred cows. Fully a thousand calves wear his brandof the Spur.
Spur brand]
A visitor to Hope Canon is met by two tow-headed children, who greet himwith their fingers in their mouths, staring round-eyed. These areVirginia and Eunice Johnson, daughters of the ex-sheriff, and they areaged respectively six and three years. Both of the parents are verydark, as you know, and Lafe's most reliable joke is to query Hetty verysolemnly on the marked blondness of their offspring.
Hetty herself is plump and matronly. She is now in a position to afforddomestics, and she has the calm bearing and complacence of a healthy,fruitful woman whose lot lies in pleasant places. In her face is thefulfillment of early promise. Selfishness and evil thinking may be slowto leave their marks, but devotion to a noble sense of duty willinvariably light a woman's face. Although her household duties aregreatly lessened, she takes such extraordinary pains in the bringing upof her children that her every hour is fully occupied. True, sheoccasionally snatches a half day to herself; but guess what the busybodydoes then? She drives over to the Ferriers', and lends her sister-in-lawaid in straightening out her domestic difficulties. Bob Ferrier isworking for Lafe, and works conscientiously, but he will never beanything but a salaried employe, for he lacks the faculty of thinkingfor himself. Perhaps he was too long under routine. Consequently theirincreasing family necessities provide the industrious Hetty with ampleopportunity to exercise her desire of helping. So she is happy.
And when the Ferriers are provided for and everything is running evenly,of course she must interest herself in the plight of less fortunateneighbors. Many nesters have come to the country to take up farms, andto these Hetty appears as a saving angel, however hostile their arrivalhas been to her husband's interests. There are a few women in this worldwho must always be doing good or they are wretched, and Lafe hadstumbled upon one of them for wife.
I have left until last any reference to a very important individual inthe Johnson household--Lafe, Jr., the heir of the Spur. My reason for sodoing has been a reluctance to take him up until something more to hiscredit than his father's comments, could be offered. The truth is thatLafe, Jr., has been a wild boy and a sore trial. He has shown tendencieswhich have greatly exercised his father. Hetty is more inclined to belenient, which may be responsible for some of the trouble.
At the time this chapter opens, Lafe, Jr., was a tall, lank youth ofabout fifteen years, all knobby joints and hands and feet. When he spokeit gave one a scare, because his tones slid without warning from a highfalsetto to a most sonorous bass. He was, indeed, at that awkward agewhen a well-grown boy is verging on manhood. Often Hetty worried overhis abstraction and fits of sullenness; also, pimples marred hisappearance, and a growth of down on chin and upper lip gave Lafe, Jr.,food for thought.
"I swan that boy's getting worse every day," said Lafe to his wife onemorning.
"What's he done now?" she asked.
"Oh, I done caught him out behind the barn again smoking cigarettes.Bill, he told me yesterday that he seen Lafe taking a drink out of abottle with the horse wrangler. I'll can that feller if he don't leaveLafe alone."
"Oh, goodness, let the boy be, Lafe. You told me yourself you smokedwhen you were nine. All the boys out here learn to do that mighty young,and some of them know how to drink right well, too."
"That's all right," said Johnson stubbornly, "but I don't expect our sonto be a no-account feller. We've got the money to educate him fine. ButI'm scared to send him away until I'm sure he's worth it."
"Well, anyhow, don't be too hard on him. Don't go jumping on the boy allthe time, Lafe. If you do you'll make a sneak out of him."
"He's mighty nigh that now," said Lafe, and walked out of the roombefore Hetty could start an argument on the point.
He had not spoken to his wife of the worry that rankled deepest. Thiswas nothing less than a doubt of his son's courage. To a man who hadlived as Johnson had lived, who had calmly braved danger every month inhis life, absence of pluck is the most despicable of human traits.Little incidents he had noted in the behavior of Lafe, Jr., filled theboss with a dread that his son might not only be lacking in aggressivecourage, but might be the victim of positive cowardice. However, hereflected that happenings previous to his birth may have beenresponsible, which gave him a patience with the boy he might nototherwise have had. Yet Lafe, Jr.'s, shrinking fear of the ordinaryrisks of range life was wholly at variance with the reckless spirit hehad shown as a child.
"He's even scared of his horse," said Lafe to me on a night. "Don't tellanybody, Dan. I'd be 'shamed. But I've seen that boy's knees near knocktogether before he crawled up on ol' Waspnest."
"He's at a bad age," I said, trying to console him. "In the first place,he has grown too fast, and in the second place, you haven't handled himproperly. Lafe is a mighty sensitive boy and you ought to be morecompanionable with him. As long as you hold him off and never give himanything but a stern order, he's going to do things which you think aresneaky."
The boss looked astounded. It was a new experience for him to be toldthat he did not know how to manage a fellow creature, and the fact thatthat fellow creature was his son sharpened the sting. He stared at me along time very thoughtfully.
"Maybe you're right," he said. "I'll give it a trial, anyhow."
Acting on this suggestion, he began to take Lafe, Jr., with him on hisrounds of the range. At first the boy was suspicious of his father'smotive in this move, and showed it by the reluctance and laziness withwhich he executed his orders; but, discovering in his sire's attitudenothing to confirm this view, he became more cheerful and took to thework with alacrity. Johnson was much pleased. He told me that the boywas shaping right to become a man yet.
The Sheriff of Badger: A Tale of the Southwest Borderland Page 42
