CHAPTER SIX
THE WAGON TIRE
About noon she emerged from the room, fully refreshed and wide awake.She and Susie O'Toole had unpacked at least one of the trunks, and nowshe stood arrayed in shirtwaist and blue skirt.
At once she stepped into the open air and looked about her withconsiderable curiosity.
"So this is a real cattle ranch," was her comment.
Senor Johnson was at her side pressing on her with boyish eagerness thesights of the place. She patted the stag hounds and inspected thegarden. Then, confessing herself hungry, she obeyed with alacritySang's call to an early meal. At the table she ate coquettishly,throwing her birdlike side glances at the man opposite.
"I want to see a real cowboy," she announced, as she pushed her chairback.
"Why, sure!" cried Senor Johnson joyously. "Sang! hi, Sang! TellBrent Palmer to step in here a minute."
After an interval the cowboy appeared, mincing in on his high-heeledboots, his silver spurs jingling, the fringe of his chaps impactingsoftly on the leather. He stood at ease, his broad hat in both hands,his dark, level brows fixed on his chief.
"Shake hands with Mrs. Johnson, Brent. I called you in because shesaid she wanted to see a real cow-puncher."
"Oh, BUCK!" cried the woman.
For an instant the cow-puncher's level brows drew together. Then hecaught the woman's glance fair. He smiled.
"Well, I ain't much to look at," he proffered.
"That's not for you to say, sir," said Estrella, recovering.
"Brent, here, gentled your pony for you," exclaimed Senor Johnson.
"Oh," cried Estrella, "have I a pony? How nice. And it was so good ofyou, Mr. Brent. Can't I see him? I want to see him. I want to givehim a piece of sugar." She fumbled in the bowl.
"Sure you can see him. I don't know as he'll eat sugar. He ain't thateducated. Think you could teach him to eat sugar, Brent?"
"I reckon," replied the cowboy.
They went out toward the corral, the cowboy joining them as a matter ofcourse. Estrella demanded explanations as she went along. Theirprogress was leisurely. The blindfolded pump mule interested her.
"And he goes round and round that way all day without stopping,thinking he's really getting somewhere!" she marvelled. "I think that'sa shame! Poor old fellow, to get fooled that way!"
"It is some foolish," said Brent Palmer, "but he ain't any worse offthan a cow-pony that hikes out twenty mile and then twenty back."
"No, I suppose not," admitted Estrella.
"And we got to have water, you know," added Senor Johnson.
Brent rode up the sorrel bareback. The pretty animal, gentle as akitten, nevertheless planted his forefeet strongly and snorted atEstrella.
"I reckon he ain't used to the sight of a woman," proffered the Senor,disappointed. "He'll get used to you. Go up to him soft-like and rubhim between the eyes."'
Estrella approached, but the pony jerked back his head with everysymptom of distrust. She forgot the sugar she had intended to offerhim.
"He's a perfect beauty," she said at last, "but, my! I'd never dareride him. I'm awful scairt of horses."
"Oh, he'll come around all right," assured Brent easily. "I'll fix him."
"Oh, Mr. Brent," she exclaimed, "don't think I don't appreciate whatyou've done. I'm sure he's really just as gentle as he can be. It'sonly that I'm foolish."
"I'll fix him," repeated Brent.
The two men conducted her here and there, showing her the variousinstitutions of the place. A man bent near the shed nailing a shoe toa horse's hoof.
"So you even have a blacksmith!" said Estrella. Her guides laughedamusedly.
"Tommy, come here!" called the Senor.
The horseshoer straightened up and approached. He was a lithe,curly-haired young boy, with a reckless, humorous eye and a smoothface, now red from bending over.
"Tommy, shake hands with Mrs. Johnson," said the Senor. "Mrs. Johnsonwants to know if you're the blacksmith." He exploded in laughter.
"Oh, BUCK!" cried Estrella again.
"No, ma'am," answered the boy directly; "I'm just tacking a shoe onDanger, here. We all does our own blacksmithing."
His roving eye examined her countenance respectfully, but withadmiration. She caught the admiration and returned it, covertly butunmistakably, pleased that her charms were appreciated.
They continued their rounds. The sun was very hot and the dust deep.A woman would have known that these things distressed Estrella. Shepicked her way through the debris; she dropped her head from theburning; she felt her delicate garments moistening with perspiration,her hair dampening; the dust sifted up through the air. Over in thelarge corral a bronco buster, assisted by two of the cowboys, wasengaged in roping and throwing some wild mustangs. The sight waswonderful, but here the dust billowed in clouds.
"I'm getting a little hot and tired," she confessed at last. "I thinkI'll go to the house."
But near the shed she stopped again, interested in spite of herself bya bit of repairing Tommy had under way. The tire of a wagon wheel hadbeen destroyed. Tommy was mending it. On the ground lay a freshcowhide. From this Tommy was cutting a wide strip. As she watched hemeasured the strip around the circumference of the wheel.
"He isn't going to make a tire of that!" she exclaimed, incredulously.
"Sure," replied Senor Johnson.
"Will it wear?"
"It'll wear for a month or so, till we can get another from town."
Estrella advanced and felt curiously of the rawhide. Tommy wasfastening it to the wheel at the ends only.
"But how can it stay on that way?" she objected. "It'll come right offas soon as you use it."
"It'll harden on tight enough."
"Why?" she persisted. "Does it shrink much when it dries?"
Senor Johnson stared to see if she might be joking. "Does it shrink?"he repeated slowly. "There ain't nothing shrinks more, nor harder.It'll mighty nigh break that wood."
Estrella, incredulous, interested, she could not have told why, stoopedagain to feel the soft, yielding hide. She shook her head.
"You're joking me because I'm a tenderfoot," she accused brightly. "Iknow it dries hard, and I'll believe it shrinks a lot, but to breakwood--that's piling it on a little thick."
"No, that's right, ma'am," broke in Brent Palmer. "It's awful strong.It pulls like a horse when the desert sun gets on it. You wrapanything up in a piece of that hide and see what happens. Some timeyou take and wrap a piece around a potato and put her out in the sunand see how it'll squeeze the water out of her."
"Is that so?" she appealed to Tommy. "I can't tell when they are makingfun of me."
"Yes, ma'am, that's right," he assured her.
Estrella passed a strip of the flexible hide playfully about her wrists.
"And if I let that dry that way I'd be handcuffed hard and fast," shesaid.
"It would cut you down to the bone," supplemented Brent Palmer.
She untwisted the strip, and stood looking at it, her eyes wide.
"I--I don't know why--" she faltered. "The thought makes me a littlesick. Why, isn't it queer? Ugh! it's like a snake!" She flung itfrom her energetically and turned toward the ranch house.
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