The Dude Wrangler

by Caroline Lockhart

  CHAPTER IX

  CUTTING HIS EYETEETH

  A widely advertised stock sale was an event in the country for thetwofold reason that it furnished the opportunity for neighbours withfifty and more miles between them to exchange personal news andexperiences and also to purchase blooded animals for considerably lessthan they could have been imported.

  This was particularly true of the Canby sale, where the "culls," both inhorses and cattle, were better than the best animals of the majority ofthe small stockmen and ranchers. In consequence, these sales werelargely attended by the natives, who drank Canby's coffee and ate hisdoughnuts while calling him names which are commonly deleted by thecensor.

  It was the custom also for such persons as had a few head of horses orcattle to dispose of, but not enough for a sale of their own, to bringthem to be auctioned off with Canby's. So it had come to pass that thestock sale at Canby's ranch was second only in importance to the countyfair to which all the countryside looked forward.

  Therefore Wallie, whose notion of a stock sale was of the vaguest, wasmuch surprised when after riding in the direction his visitor hadindicated and spending hours hunting for gates in wire fences, had comeupon an assembly of a size he would not have believed possible in thatsparsely populated district.

  Unless they denned in the rocks, the question as to where they livedmight have puzzled a person more familiar with this Western phenomenonthan Wallie.

  There were Ford cars which might have been duplicates of Henry's firstmodel--with trailers containing the overflow of children--together withthe larger cars of the more prosperous or more extravagant, as happened.Top buggies were in evidence, relics of the Victorian period, shippedout from Iowa and Nebraska--serviceable vehicles that had done duty whentheir owners were "keeping company." Lumber wagons were plentiful, withstraw and quilts in the bottom to serve as shock-absorbers, while saddlehorses were tied to every hitching post and cottonwood.

  When Wallie arrived in his riding boots and breeches he immediatelyshared attention with a large, venerable-looking Durham that was beingauctioned. The Durham, however, returned the stare of the crowd withblase eyes which said that he had seen all of life he wanted to and didnot care what further happened, while Wallie felt distinctlyuncomfortable at the attention he attracted, and wished he might findCanby.

  As he stood speculating as to whether the folds of skin around theDurham's neck might be an indication of his age--a year for a fold,after the manner of snake-rattles--his attention was diverted to a groupthat was interested in the efforts of one of its members to pry ahorse's mouth open.

  It seemed to Wallie an excellent opportunity to learn something whichmight be of future use to him, so he joined it.

  A man who looked capable of selling a runaway horse to his grandmotherwas saying emphatically:

  "Eight, next spring, I tell you. We raised her a pet on the ranch, so Iought to know what I'm talkin' about."

  The person who had managed to separate the horse's jaws laugheduproariously:

  "If she ever sees sixteen again----"

  "She ain't over eight, and I'll take my oath on it," interrupted theowner, with a fine show of indignation.

  "If I could believe you, I'd buy her."

  A piping voice from the group interjected itself into the conversation.It came from under the limp brim of a hat that dropped to the speaker'sshoulders.

  "Why, I knowed that harse when I first come to the country. She wasrunnin' with her mother over in the Bighorns, and Bear George atTensleep owned her. Some said that Frank McMannigle's runnin' harse,'Left Hand,' was her father, and others said she was jest a ketch colt,but I dunno. Her mother was a sorrel with a star in her forehead and theTwo-pole-punkin' brand on her left shoulder. If I ain't mistaken, shehad one white hind stockin' and they was a wire cut above her hock thatwas kind of a blemish. She got a ring bone and they had to kill her, butBear George sold the colt, this mare here, to a feller at Kaysee over onPowder River and he won quite considerable money on her. It was aboutthirteen year ago that I last seen her, but I knowed her the minute Ilaid eyes on her. She et musty hay one winter and got the tizic, but younever would know it unless you run her. One of her stifle j'ints----"

  The mare's owner interrupted at this juncture:

  "You jest turn your mouth on, don't you, Tex, and go off and leave it?"

  "I happened to know a little somethin' about this harse," apologeticallybegan "Tex," whose other name was McGonnigle, "so I thought----"

  "So you thought you'd butt in and queer the sale of it. I suppose you'dsuffer somethin' horrible if there was a horse-deal on and you had tokeep your mouth shut?"

  Mr. McGonnigle protested feebly that he had no such idea when he gavethe horse's history, and Wallie was much interested in the wrangle, buthe thought he caught a glimpse of Canby through one of the doorways of astable so he hurried across the yard and found him in conversation withBoise Bill, who was grooming a work-horse which quite evidently was tobe auctioned.

  Boise Bill grinned when he saw Wallie and nodded. Canby stepped out andgreeted Wallie with some affability.

  "I've been watching for you. Have you bid on anything?"

  "Not yet. But I saw a fine-looking cow that I mean to buy if she is allshe ought to be," Wallie replied with a touch of importance. "It seemsto me that a good cow will help out wonderfully. I am very fond of milkand it will be useful in cooking. With a cow and a hen or two----"

  Canby and Wallie crossed the yard to where a mild-eyed Jersey was beingdressed in a halter preparatory to being led forward and put up atauction.

  "Will you be good enough to permit me to examine this animal?" Wallieasked of her caretaker.

  "Shore," he replied, heartily, though he looked puzzled.

  Wallie drew off his riding gloves and stepped up briskly in aprofessional manner and pried open the mouth of the protesting cow.

  He exclaimed as he let go abruptly:

  "Why--she's old! I don't want her. She hasn't a single tooth left in herupper jaw. It's a fortunate thing I looked at her."

  A small boy roosting on the corral snickered. The cow's guardian smiledbroadly and openly and deliberately winked at Canby.

  Offended, Wallie demanded:

  "Am I in error as to her age?"

  "Well--if a cow ever had a set of teeth in her upper jaw she'd be in aside-show. They don't have 'em. This cow is only three--a young animal."

  "That's true," Canby assented.

  "I declare! It seems very curious," Wallie exclaimed, astounded. Headded, with all his importance punctured:

  "I fear I have much to learn."

  "This is a good place to learn it," observed the cow's valet.

  Wallie bought the Jersey at private sale, and needless to say, paid itsfull value.

  "She'll be fresh in January," the man said to him.

  Wallie looked bewildered, so the other explained further:

  "She'll have a calf." He said it in such a confidential manner thatWallie thought it was a secret and lowered his voice to answer:

  "I'm glad of it." He had a notion that he had gotten the best of Canbyand wished that Miss Spenceley and The Colonial folk knew he had made ashrewd bargain and gotten a herd started.

  To Canby, who accompanied him on his tour of inspection, he saideagerly:

  "Where I wish your assistance is in the selection of my work-horses.What would you advise? Have you a pair in mind, Mr. Canby?" Canbyreflected.

  "That was a good horse Boise Bill was currying," he suggested.

  "Yes, I noticed him. Is there another like him?"

  "I believe he is one of a team."

  Canby was correct in his surmise. The pair were well matched and,impressed by their looks and strength, Wallie was delighted anddetermined to have them if possible.

  "Fourteen hundred is a good weight for your purpose--above that they areapt to be clumsy," said Canby.

  Wallie agreed enthusiastically.

  "My own idea exactly. You see, I'll have to
use them for driving as wellas working, until I can afford a motor."

  The gathering was composed mostly of good, honest folk but plain ones.They did, however, seem to know exactly what they were buying and whythey wanted it, and Wallie was fearful that a pair of such exceptionalhorses would be run up to a figure beyond his resources. He wished theywould bring them out and end the suspense which was momentarily growinggreater as he thought of losing them.

  Boise Bill drove the pair from the stable finally, just as a powerfulmachine arrived and took a place in the outer circle. New arrivals hadno interest at the moment for Wallie, who was as nervous as a youngopera singer.

  As Boise Bill walked behind the team slapping them with a rope-end todrive them forward, it occurred to Wallie that it would have been muchsimpler to have led them, but as every one had his own way of doingthings in this country he gave no further thought to the matter.

  If he had not been so anxious and intent upon what was about to happen,he might also have observed an interchange of knowing looks among thegentlemen whose clothes were secured mostly with shingle-nails andbaling-wire.

  The team looked all the auctioneer declared them to be as they stoodhead to head--young, strong, perfectly matched--and he defied allWyoming to find a blemish on them.

  The gentlemen in patched overalls seemed willing to take his word forit, since no one stepped forward to examine the team, and they listenedwith such attention while he extolled their virtues that it sickenedWallie, who already felt the thrill of ownership as he looked at them.

  "The greatest pullers in the State"; the auctioneer made a point of it,repeating it several times for emphasis.

  Wallie scanned the faces of the crowd to see if he could detect anyspecial interest that would denote a rival bidder, and he wished theauctioneer would stop harping on their good qualities. It surprised hima little that he saw none of his own eagerness reflected in the variedexpressions, also it relieved him somewhat. If he had had an unlimitedbank account it would have been different, but he realized that anydetermined opponent could outbid him, so he found himself in aperspiration as he waited.

  "How high do you think I should go?" he asked of his friend and advisor.

  "That depends on how badly you want them."

  "They suit me exactly."

  "Horses of that class are selling around $500, but you might venture alittle more, since you like them."

  "That's just about what I am able to pay. My goodness, but I hope I'mnot outbid! You wouldn't believe how nervous I am. It's such a newexperience that I am really agitated."

  The statement was unnecessary, since Canby could see Wallie's kneestrembling in his riding breeches.

  "How much am I offered for this pair of magnificent young horses?" askedthe auctioneer, ingratiatingly.

  Wallie, who had not such a case of stage-fright since he first sang inpublic "Oh, that we two were Maying," bid instantly:

  "Two hundred dollars!" His voice sounded like the squeak in a telephonereceiver.

  The auctioneer cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned forward:

  "What?"

  The incredulity in his tone prompted Wallie to raise the bid to twohundred and twenty-five when he repeated it.

  The auctioneer struck his forehead with his clenched fist and staggeredback dramatically, demanding:

  "Am I insulted?"

  "That ain't possible," croaked a voice among the spectators.

  "Two hundred and fifty!" The bid came from a ministerial-looking personwho was known as a kind of veterinary occasionally employed by Canby.

  "Three hundred!" Wallie challenged him.

  "That's more like it, but still an insult to these noble brutes I'mselling. Who says three and a quarter?"

  "And a quarter!" came from the veterinary.

  "And a quarter--and a quarter--gentlemen, what ails you?" He looked atthe "bone and sinew of the nation," who prodded each other.

  "Three hundred and fifty," Wallie responded.

  "Three-fifty! Boost her faster, gentlemen! Boost her right along! Am Ioffered four hundred?"

  "Four hundred!" The bid was the veterinary's.

  Wallie quavered:

  "Four hundred and fifty!"

  "Five hundred!" his opponent came back at him.

  Wallie hesitated.

  "Think of it! Going for five hundred!"

  The auctioneer looked at Wallie, who could not have been paler in hiscoffin.

  "Five twenty-five!"

  "Good! Now, sir," to the veterinary.

  "Five-fifty!"

  He turned to Wallie:

  "Am I done, gentlemen?"

  Wallie stared at him, his throat too dry to answer.

  "Must I give away the best pullin' team in the State for a puny,piddlin' five hundred and fifty dollars?" he pleaded.

  "SIX HUNDRED!" Wallie cried in desperation.

  With the bid Canby raised his hat and ran his fingers through his haircasually and the veterinary stopped bidding.

  "Done!" cried the auctioneer, "Sold to Mr.--the name, please--ah,Macpherson, for six hundred dollars---- A bargain!"

  Between relief and joy Wallie was speechless, while Canby congratulatedhim and the crowd bestowed upon him glances of either derision orcommiseration, according to the nature of the individual.

  While he stood trying to realize his good fortune and that he was theowner of as good a pair of work-horses as ever looked through a halter, afigure that made his heart jump came swiftly forward, and with her handsin the pockets of her long motor coat, stopped in front of his team andscrutinized them closely.

  Helene Spenceley looked from one of the horses to the other. She saw thedilated pupils, the abnormally full forehead, the few coarse hairsgrowing just above the eyelid, and they told her what she had suspected.

  "I am sorry I did not know it was you who was bidding on these horses,"she said, turning to Wallie.

  "Did you want them, Miss Spenceley? I am sorry----"

  "Want them? You couldn't give them to me. They are locoed!"

  "Locoed!" He could only stare at her, hoping never again to feel suchdismay as filled him at that moment.

  He had only the vaguest notion as to what "locoed" meant, but it wasvery clear that it was something highly undesirable. And he had beencheated by Canby, who had known of it and advised him to buy them! Suchduplicity was without his experience, and sickened him nearly as much asthe thought of the $600 he had invested in horses so radically wrongthat Helene Spenceley would not take them as a gift.

  The single thought which came to solace him as he stood humiliated andpanic-stricken was that she resented the dishonest trick that had beenplayed upon him.

  Canby came forward to greet her, with his hand out. She ignored it andsaid indignantly:

  "I should have spoiled this sale for you, Mr. Canby, if I had seen whowas bidding on these locoed horses."

  Though Canby flushed, he shrugged a shoulder and replied callously:

  "We all had to get our eyeteeth cut when we came to the country."