The Dude Wrangler

by Caroline Lockhart

  CHAPTER XX

  WALLIE QUALIFIES AS A FIRST-CLASS HERO

  Pinkey took a triangular piece of glass from between the logs in thebunk-house and regarded himself steadfastly in the bit of broken mirror.

  He murmured finally:

  "I ain't no prize baby, but if I jest had a classy set of teeth Iwouldn't be bad lookin'."

  He replaced the mirror in the crack and sauntered down to the cook-shackwhere he seated himself on the door-sill. The chef was singing as if hemeant it: "Ah, I Have Sighed to Rest Me Deep in the Silent Grave."

  Pinkey interrupted:

  "How do you git to work to get teeth, Mr. Hicks, if they ain't nodentist handy?"

  Like Mr. Stott, no question could be put to Mr. Hicks for which he couldnot find an answer. He now replied promptly:

  "Well, there's two ways: you can send to Mungummery-Ward and have acrate sent out on approval, and keep tryin' till you find a set thatfits, or you can take the cast off your gooms yourself, send it on andhave 'em hammer you out some to order."

  "Is that so? What kind of stuff do they use to make the cast of yourgooms of?"

  "Some uses putty, some uses clay, but I believe they generally recommendplaster of Paris. It's hard, and it's cheap, and it stays where it'sput."

  A thoughtful silence followed; then Pinkey got up and joined Wallie, whowas sitting on the top pole of the corral, smoking moodily.

  The "dudes" were at target practice with 22's and six-shooters, havingbeen persuaded finally not to use Mr. Canby's range as a background.They now all walked with a swagger and seldom went to their mealswithout their weapons.

  Pinkey blurted out suddenly:

  "I wisht I'd died when I was little!"

  "What's the matter?"

  "Oh, nothin'."

  It was plain that he wished to be interrogated further, but Wallie, whowas thinking of Helene Spenceley and her indifference to him, was in nomood to listen to other people's troubles.

  After another period of reflection Pinkey asked abruptly:

  "Do you believe in signs?"

  To which Wallie replied absently:

  "Can't say I do. Why?"

  "If there's anything in signs I ought to be turrible jealous--the way myeyebrows grow together."

  "Aren't you?" indifferently.

  "Me--jealous? Nobody could make me jealous, especially a worman."

  "You're lucky!" Wallie spoke with unnecessary emphasis. "It's anuncomfortable sensation."

  Pinkey shifted uneasily and picked a bit of bark off the corral pole.

  "Don't it look kinda funny that Miss Eyester would take any in'trist inOld Man Penrose? A girl like her wouldn't care nothin' about his money,would she?"

  Wallie looked dour as he answered:

  "You never can tell--maybe." He had been asking himself the samequestion about Miss Spenceley, whom he had seen rather frequently oflate with Canby.

  "Guess I'll quirl me a brownie and git into the feathers," glumly. "Ithought I'd go into town in the mornin', I want to do me some buyin'."

  Wallie nodded, and Pinkey added as he unhooked his heels:

  "You want to ride herd pretty clost on Aunt Lizzie. She's bound anddetermined to go outside the fence huntin' moss-agates. The cattle areliable to hook her. Canby throwed them long-horns in there on purpose."

  "I'm sure of it," Wallie said, grimly. "Yes, I'll watch Aunt Lizzie. Butshe isn't worse than Appel, who was over there catching grasshoppersbecause he said they were fatter."

  "Dudes is aggravatin'," Pinkey admitted. "But," philosophically,"they're our meal-tickets, so we got to swaller 'em."

  As Wallie watched his partner go up the path to the bunk-house hewondered vaguely what purchase he had to make that was so important asto induce him to make a special trip to Prouty. But since Pinkey had notchosen to tell him and Wallie had a talent for minding his own business,he dismissed it; besides, he had more vital things to think about atthat moment.

  It had hurt him that Helene Spenceley had not been over. Obviously hehad taken too much for granted, for he had thought that when she saw hewas in earnest once more and in a fair way to make a success of hissecond venture, things would be different between them. He had imaginedshe would express her approval in some way, but she seemed to take itall as a matter of course. She was the most difficult woman to impressthat he ever had known, but, curiously, the less she was impressed themore eager he was to impress her. Yet her casualness only spurred him tofurther effort and strengthened his determination to make her realizethat there was a great deal in him worth while and that some day hewould stand for something in the community.

  But somehow he did not seem to make much progress, and now he askedhimself grumpily why in the dickens he couldn't have fallen in love withMattie Gaskett, who followed him like his shadow and had her own income,with wonderful prospects.

  He scuffed at the bark on the corral pole with his foot and thoughtsourly of the rot he had read about love begetting love. He had notnoticed it. It more often begot laughter, and his case was an instanceof it. Helene Spenceley laughed at him--he was sure of it--and fool thathe was--imbecile--it did not seem to make any difference. There was justone girl for him and always would be--he was like that and it was amisfortune.

  In time, very likely, he would be a hermit, or a "sour-ball" like Canby;he would sit at dances looking like a bull-elk that's been whipped outof the herd, and the girls would giggle at him.

  Wallie's mood was undoubtedly pessimistic, and, finally, he trudged upthe path to bed, hoping he would awaken in a more cheerful humour--whichhe did--because he dreamed that with Helene Spenceley beside him he wasburning up the road in a machine of a splendour "to put Canby's eyeout."

  The next morning Pinkey was gone when they gathered at the breakfasttable. Miss Eyester looked downcast because he had failed to tell her ofhis intention, while Mrs. Stott declared that it was very inconsideratefor him to go without mentioning it, since he had promised to matchembroidery cotton for her and she could not go on with her dresser-scarfuntil she had some apple-green to put the leaves in with.

  The morning passed without incident, except that Mr. Budlong wasastonished when Wallie told him that his new high-power rifle wasscattering bullets among Mr. Canby's herd of cattle more than a miledistant and that it was great good fortune he had not killed any ofthem. Otherwise Wallie was engaged as usual in answering questions andlengthening and shortening stirrups for ladies the length of whose legsseemed to change from day to day, making such alterations necessary.

  Miss Gaskett "heeled" Wallie with flattering faithfulness andincidentally imparted the information that a friend from Zanesville,Ohio, Miss Mercy Lane was to join their party in Prouty when the datewas definitely set for their tour of the Yellowstone.

  "She's a dear, sweet girl whom I knew at boarding-school, and," archly,"you must tell me that you will not fall in love with her."

  Wallie, who now thought of even "dear, sweet girls" in terms of dollarsand cents, felt that he could safely promise.

  It was a relief when the triangle jangled for dinner, and Wallie lookedforward to the ride afterward, although it had its attendantirritations--chief of which was the propensity of J. Harry Stott togallop ahead and then gallop back to see if the party was coming: raresport for Mr. Stott, but less so for the buckskin. As soon as thatsterling young fellow had discovered that he could ride at a gallopwithout falling off he lost no opportunity to do so, and his horse wasalready showing the result of it.

  Boosting Aunt Lizzie Philbrick on and off her horse to enable her topick flowers and examine rocks was a part of the routine, as wasrecovering Mrs. Budlong's hairpins when her hair came down and she losther hat. Mr. Budlong, too, never failed to lag behind and becomeseparated from the rest of the party, so that he had to be hunted. Hepersisted in riding in moccasins and said that his insteps "ached him"so that he could not keep up.

  Reasoning that every occupation has drawbacks of some kind, Wallie borethese small annoyances with patience,
though there were times when heconfessed that The Happy Family of The Colonial were not altogether socharming and amiable as he had thought.

  He never would have suspected, for instance, that J. Harry Stott, who inhis own environment was a person of some little consequence, in anothercould appear a complete and unmitigated ass. Or that Mrs. Budlong hadsuch a wolfish appetite, or that ten cents looked larger to Mr. Appelthan a dollar did to Pink, or that Old Penrose was vain as a peacockabout his looks. Still, Wallie consoled himself, everyone had hisidiosyncrasies, and if they had not had these they might have had worseones.

  To-day there was the usual commotion over getting off, and then whenWallie was ready to boost Aunt Lizzie on her horse she was nowhere to befound. She was not in her tent, nor had she fallen over the embankment,and the fact that she set great store by her afternoon rides deepenedthe mystery.

  Old Mr. Penrose, who had unslung his field-glasses, declared he sawsomething that might be the top of Aunt Lizzie's head moving above asmall "draw" over on Canby's lease. Mr. Penrose, who had sought ranchlife chiefly because he said he was sick of cities and mobs of people,when not riding now spent most of his time with his high-power glasseswatching the road in the hope of seeing someone passing and he had cometo be as excited when he saw a load of hay as if he had discovered aplanet.

  He passed the glasses to Wallie, who adjusted them and immediatelynodded:

  "That's somebody in the draw; it must be Aunt Lizzie."

  There was no doubt about it when she came out and started walking slowlyalong the top, searching, as she went, for moss-agates. Wallie gave asharp exclamation, for, in the moment that they watched her, a smallherd of the Texas cattle came around a hill and also saw her. Theystopped short, and looked at the strange figure. Then, like a band ofcurious antelope, they edged a little closer. It might be that theywould not attack her, but, if they did, it was certain they would goreher to death unless someone was there to prevent it.

  Leading his own horse and dragging Aunt Lizzie's stubborn white ponybehind him, Wallie threw down the wire gate opening into the Canby leaseand sprang into the saddle.

  He kept his eyes fixed on the cattle as he rode toward Aunt Lizzie,making the best time he could, with her cayuse pulling back obstinatelyon the bridle, but, in any case, he could not have seen Helene Spenceleyand Canby riding from the opposite direction, for they were still on theother side of a small ridge which hid them.

  Helene had stopped at the Canby ranch for luncheon on her way to pay herlong-deferred visit to her whilom acquaintances of The Colonial, andthough Canby had not relished the thought that she was going there, hehad asked to accompany her across the leases. Pleased that she hadstopped without an invitation, he was more likable than ever she hadseen him, and he made no pretense of concealing the fact that she couldbe mistress of the most pretentious house in the country if she choseto.

  Helene could not well have been otherwise than impressed by itsmagnificence. She was aware that with Canby's money and her personalpopularity she could make an enviable position for herself very easily,and she was nothing if not ambitious. The traits in Canby which sofrequently antagonized her, his arrogance, his selfish egotism anddisregard of others' rights and feelings, to-day were not in evidence.He was spontaneous, genial, boyish almost, and she never had felt sokindly disposed toward him nor so tolerant of his failings.

  She looked at him speculatively now as he rode beside her and wonderedif association would beget an affection that would do as well as love ifsupplemented by the many things he had to offer?

  Her friendlier mood was not lost on Canby who was quick to takeadvantage of it. He leaned over and laid his hand on hers as it restedon the saddle horn.

  "Your thoughts of me are kinder than usual, aren't they, Helene? You areless critical?" He spoke almost humbly.

  She smiled at him as she admitted:

  "Perhaps so."

  "I wish you could think so of me always, because I should be very happyif--you----" His narrow, selfish face had a softness she never had seenin it as he paused while he groped for the exact words he wished inwhich to express himself.

  There was no need for him to finish, for his meaning was unmistakable,and the colour rose in Helene's cheeks as she averted her eyes from hissteady gaze and looked on past him.

  Their horses had been climbing slowly and had now reached the top of theridge which gave an uninterrupted view across the flat stretch which laybetween them and the ranch that was such an eyesore to Canby.

  As she took in the sweep of country her gaze concentrated upon themoving objects she saw in it. Puzzled at first, her look of perplexitywas succeeded by one of consternation, then horror. With swiftcomprehension she grasped fully the meaning of a scene that was beingenacted before her.

  Her expression attracted Canby's attention even before she pointed andcried sharply:

  "Look!"

  Aunt Lizzie was still busy with her pebbles, a tiny, tragic figure shelooked, in view of what was happening, as she walked along in leisurelyfashion, stopping every step or two to pick up and examine a stone thatattracted her attention.

  The herd of long-horns had come closer, but one had drawn out from theothers and was shaking its head as it trotted down upon her.

  Wallie had long since abandoned the pony he was leading, and with allthe speed his own was capable of, was doing his best to intercept theanimal before it reached her. But he was still a long way off and evenas Helene cried out the steer broke into a gallop.

  Canby, too, instantly grasped the situation.

  "If I only had a rifle!"

  "Perhaps we can turn it! We'll have to make an awful run for it but wecan try!"

  They had already gathered the reins and were spurring their horses downthe declivity.

  Canby's thoroughbred leaped into the air as the steel pricked it andHelene was soon left behind. She saw that she could figure only as aspectator, so she slowed down and watched what followed in fascinatedhorror.

  Canby was considerably farther off than Wallie, in the beginning, butthe racing blood in the former's horse's veins responded gallantly tothe urge of its rider. It stretched out and laid down to its work like ahare with the hounds behind it, quickly equalizing the distance.

  Aunt Lizzie was poking at a rock with her toe when she looked upsuddenly and saw her danger. The steer with a spread of horns likeantlers and tapering to needle points was rushing down upon her,infuriated.

  For a moment she stood, weak with terror, unable to move, until her willasserted itself and then, shrieking, she ran as fast as her stiff oldlegs could carry her.

  Wallie and Canby reached the steer almost together. A goodly distancestill intervened between it and Aunt Lizzie, but the gap was shorteningwith sickening rapidity and Helene grew cold as she saw that, try asthey might, they could not head it.

  The animal seemed to be conscious only of its fleeing victim. When sheran, her flight appeared to excite and enrage it further, for it bawledwith anger. The fluttering petticoats were a challenge, and the steerwas bent on reaching and destroying the strange object with the weaponsnature had given it. It was accustomed to horsemen and had no fear ofthem, but it saw a menace in the little old woman screaming just ahead,so it ignored Canby and Wallie, and they could not swerve it.

  Helene wrung her hands in a frenzy as she watched their futile efforts.Wallie always carried a rope on his saddle, why didn't he use it? Was heafraid? Couldn't he? She felt a swift return of her old contempt forhim. Was he only a "yellow-back" cowpuncher after all, underneath hisWestern regalia? Momentarily she despised him. Notwithstanding his braveappearance he was as useless in a crisis like this as Canby. Pinkey wasmore of a man than either of them. He would stop that steer somehow ifhe had only his pocketknife to do it. Her lip curled disdainfully forshe had an innate contempt of impotency and failure.

  She cried out sharply as Aunt Lizzie stumbled and pitched headlong.Between exhaustion and terror that paralyzed her she was unable to getup, though she tried
. The steer, flaming-eyed, was now less than fiftyyards from her.

  Helene felt herself grow nauseated. She meant to close her eyes when ithappened. She had seen a horse gored to death by a bull and it was asight she did not wish to see repeated.

  Canby in advance of Wallie was a little ahead of the steer, slapping atit with his bridle-reins, Wallie behind had been crowding its shoulder.But nothing could divert it from its purpose.

  Helene was about to turn her head away when she saw Wallie lay the reinson his horse's neck and lean from the saddle.

  His purpose flashed through Helene's mind instantly. Then she criedaloud--incredulously:

  "He's going to try _that_!" And added in a frightened whisper: "He can'tdo it! He can never do it!"

  Wallie's horse, which had been running at the steer's shoulder, missedhis hand on the reins and lagged a little, so that the distance betweenthem was such as to make what he meant to attempt seemingly impossible.For a second he rode with his arm outstretched as if gauging thedistance, then Helene grew rigid as she saw him leave the saddle.

  He made it--barely. The gap was so big that it seemed as if it were nothumanly possible more than to touch the short mane on the animal's neckwith his finger-tips. But he clung somehow, his feet and body dragging,while the steer's speed increased rather than slackened. First with onehand and then the other he worked his way to a grip on the horns, whichwas what he wanted.

  The steer stopped to fight him. Its feet ploughed up the dirt as itbraced them to resist him. Then they struggled. The steer was a big one,raw-boned, leggy, a typical old-time long-horn of the Texas ranges, andnow in fear and rage it put forth all the strength of which it wascapable.

  With his teeth grinding, Wallie fought it in desperation, trying to givethe twist that drops the animal. Its breath in his face, the froth fromits mouth blinded him, but still he clung while it threw him this andthat way. He himself never knew where his strength came from. Suddenlythe steer fell heavily and the two lay panting together.

  Helene drew the back of her hand across her eyes and brushed away thetears that blurred her vision, while a lump rose in her throat too bigto swallow. "Gentle Annie" of The Colonial veranda, erstwhile authorityon Battenburg and sweaters, had accomplished the most reckless of thedare-devil feats of the cow-country--he had "bull-dogged" a steer fromhorseback!