by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER 3. Rowdy Hires a New Boss.
Next morning, after breakfast, Mr. Rodway followed Vaughan out to thestable, and repeated Bill Brown's question.
"I'd like to know where yuh got this horse," he began, with anapologetic sort of determination in his tone. "He happens to belong tome. He was run off with a bunch three years ago, and this is the firsttrace anybody has ever got of 'em. I see the brand's been worked. It wasa Roman four--that's my brand; now it looks like a map of Texas; but I'dswear to the horse--raised him from a colt."
Rowdy had expected something of the sort, and he knew quite well what hewas going to do; he had settled that the night before, with the memoryof Miss Conroy's eyes fresh in his mind.
"I got him in a deal across the line," he said. "I was told he came fromeast Oregon. But last night, when he piloted us straight to your corralgate, I guessed he'd been here before. He's yours, all right, if you sayso."
"Uh course he ain't worth such a pile uh money," apologized Rodway, "butthe kids thought a heap of him. I'd rather locate some of the horsesthat was with him--or the man yuh got him of. They was some mighty goodhorses run out uh this country then, but they was all out on the range,so we didn't miss 'em in time to do any good. Do yu know who took 'emacross the line?"
"No," said Rowdy deliberately. "The man I got Chub from went north, andI heard he got killed. I don't know of any other in the deal."
Rodway grunted, and Vaughan began vigorously brushing Dixie's roughenedcoat. "If you don't mind," he said, after a minute, "I'd like to borrowChub to pack my bed over to the Cross L. I can bring him back again."
"Why, sure!" assented Rodway eagerly. "I hate to take him from yuh, butthe kids--"
"Oh, that's all right," interrupted Rowdy cheerfully. "It's all in thegame, and I should 'a' looked up his pedigree, for I knew--. Anyway, wasworth the price of him to have him along last night. We'd have milledaround till daylight, I guess, only for him."
"That's what," agreed Rodway. "Jessie's horse is one she brought fromhome lately, and he ain't located yet; I dunno as he'd 'a' piloted herhome. Billy--that's what the kids named him--was born and raised here,yuh see. I'll bet he's glad to get back--and the kids'll be plumb wild."
Rowdy did not answer; there seemed nothing in particular to say, and hewas wondering if he would see Miss Conroy before he left. She had noteaten breakfast with the others; from their manner, he judged thatno one expected her to. He was not well informed upon the subjectof schoolma'ams, but he had a hazy impression that late rising was adistinguishing characteristic--and he did not know how late. Hesaddled leisurely, and packed his bed for the last time upon Chub. Thered-and-yellow Navajo blanket he folded tenderly, with an unconscioussmile for the service it had done, and laid it in its accustomed placein the bed. Then, having no plausible excuse for going back to thehouse, he mounted and rode away into the brilliant white world, watchingwistfully the house from the tail of his eye.
She might have got up in time to see him off, he thought discontentedly;but he supposed one cowpuncher more or less made little difference toher. Anyway, he didn't know as he had any license to moon around her.She probably had a fellow; she might even be engaged, for all he knew.And--she was Harry Conroy's sister; and from his experience with thebreed, good looks didn't count for anything. Harry was good-looking, andhe was a snake, if ever there was one. He had never expected to lie forhim--but he had done it, all right--and because Harry's sister happenedto have nice eyes and a pretty little foot!--
He had half a mind to go back and tell Rodway all he knew about thosehorses; it was only a matter of time, anyway, till Harry Conroy overshotthe mark and got what was coming to him. He sure didn't owe Harryanything, that he had need to shield him like he had done. Still,Rodway would wonder why he hadn't told it at first; and that little girlbelieved in Harry, and said he was "splendid!" Humph! He wondered if shereally meant that. If she did--
He squared his back to the house--and the memory of Miss Conroy'seyes--and plodded across the field to the gate. Now the sun was shining,and there was no possibility of getting lost. The way to the Cross L laystraight and plain before him.
Rowdy rode leisurely up over the crest of a ridge beyond which lay thehome ranch of the Cross L. Whether it was henceforth to be his home hehad yet to discover--though there was reason for hoping that it wouldbe. Even so venturesome a man as Rowdy Vaughan would scarce ride a longhundred miles through unpeopled prairie, in the tricky month of March,without some reason for expecting a welcome at the end of his journey.In this case, a previous acquaintance with "Wooden Shoes" Mielke,foreman of the Cross L, was Rowdy's trump-card. Wooden Shoes, wheneverchance had brought them together in the last two or three years, wasever urging Rowdy to come over and unroll his soogans in the Cross Lbed-tent, and promising the best string in the outfit to ride--besidesother things alluring to a cow-puncher. So that, when his relations withthe Horseshoe Bar became strained, Rowdy remembered his friend of theCross L and the promises, and had drifted south.
Just now he hoped that Wooden Shoes would be home to greet him, andhis eyes searched wishfully the huddle of low-eaved cabins and theassortment of sheds and corrals for the bulky form of the foreman. Butno one seemed to be about--except a bigbodied, bandy-legged individual,who appeared to be playfully chasing a big, bright bay stallion insidethe large enclosure where stood the cabins.
Rowdy watched them impersonally; a glance proved that the man was notWooden Shoes, and so he was not particularly interested in him or hisdoings. It did occur to him, however, that if the fellow wanted to catchthat brute, he ought to have sense enough to get a horse. No one buta plumb idiot would mill around in that snow afoot. He jogged down theslope at a shuffling trot, grinning tolerantly at the pantomime below.
He of the bandy-legs stopped, evidently out of breath; the stallionstopped also, snorting defiance. Rowdy heard him plainly, even at thatdistance. The horse arched his neck and watched the man warily, readyto be off at the first symptom of hostilities--and Rowdy observed that ashort rope hung from his halter, swaying as he moved.
Bandy-legs seemed to have an idea; he turned and scuttled to the nearestcabin, returning with what seemed a basin of oats, for he shook itenticingly and edged cautiously toward the horse. Rowdy could imaginehim coaxing, with hypocritically endearing names, such as "Good oldboy!" and "Steady now, Billy"--or whatever the horse's name mightbe. Rowdy chuckled to himself, and hoped the horse saw through thesubterfuge.
Perhaps the horse chuckled also; at any rate, he stood quite still,equally prepared to bounce away on the instant or to don the mask ofdocility. Bandy-legs drew nearer and nearer, shaking the basin briskly,like an old woman sifting meal. The horse waited, his nostrils quiveringhungrily at the smell of the oats, and with an occasional low nicker.
Bandy-legs went on tiptoes--or as nearly as he could in the snow--thebasin at arm's length before. The dainty, flaring nostrils sniffedtentatively, dipped into the basin, and snuffed the oats aboutluxuriously--till he felt a stealthy hand seize the dangling rope. Atthe touch he snorted protest, and was off and away, upsetting Bandy-legsand the basin ignominiously into a high-piled drift.
Bandy-legs sat up, scraped the snow out of his collar and his ears, andswore. It was then that Rowdy appeared like an angel of deliverance.
"Want that horse caught?" he yelled cheerfully.
Bandy-legs lifted up his voice and bellowed things I should not like torepeat verbatim. But Rowdy gathered that the man emphatically did wantthat so-and-so-and-then-some horse caught, and that it couldn't be donea blessed minute too soon. Whereat Rowdy smiled anew, with his facediscreetly turned away from Bandy-legs, and took down his rope andwidened the loop. Also, he turned Chub loose.
The stallion evidently sensed what new danger threatened his stolenfreedom, and circled the yard with high, springy strides. Rowdy circledafter, saw his chance, swirled the loop twice over his head, andhazarded a long throw.
Rowdy knew it for pure good luck that it landed right, but to this
dayBandy-legs looks upon him as a Wonder with a rope--and Bandy-legs wouldinsist upon the capital.
"Where shall I take him?" Rowdy asked, coming up with his captive, andwith nothing but his eyes to show how he was laughing inwardly.
Bandy-legs crawled from the drift, still scraping snow from inside hiscollar, and gave many directions about going through a certain gate intosuch-and-such a corral; from there into a stable; and by seeming deviousways into a minutely described stall.
"All right," said Rowdy, cutting short the last needless details. "Iguess I can find the trail;" and started off, leading the stallion.Bandy-legs followed, and Chub, observing the departure of Dixie, ambledfaithfully in the rear.
"Much obliged," conceded Bandy-legs, when the stallion was safely housedand tied securely. "Where yuh headed for, young man?"
"Right here," Rowdy told him calmly, loosening Dixie's cinch. "I'm thelong-lost top hand that the Cross L's been watching the sky-line for,lo! these many moons, a-yearning for the privilege of handing me fortyplunks about twice as fast as I've got 'em coming. Where's the boss?"
"Er--I'm him," confessed Bandy-legs meekly, and circled the twodubiously. "I guess you've heard uh Eagle Creek Smith--I'm him. TheCross L belongs to me."
Rowdy let out an explosive, and showed a row of nice teeth. "Well, Iain't hard to please," he added. "I won't kick on that, I guess. I likeyour looks tolerable well, and I'm willing to take yuh on for a boss. Ifyuh do your part, I bet we'll get along fine." His tone was banteringlypatronizing "Anyway, I'll try yuh for a spell. You can put my name downas Rowdy Vaughan, lately canned from the Horseshoe Bar."
"What for?" ventured Bandy-legs--rather, Eagle Creek--still circlingRowdy dubiously.
"What for was I canned?" repeated Rowdy easily. "Being a modest youth, Ihate t' tell yuh. But the old man's son and me, we disagreed, and oneof his eyes swelled some; so did mine, a little." He stood head andshoulders above Eagle Creek, and he smiled down upon him engagingly.Eagle Creek capitulated before the smile.
"Well, I ain't got any sons--that I know of," he grinned. "So I guessyuh can consider yourself a Cross L man till further notice."
"Why, sure!" The teeth gleamed again briefly. "That's what I've beentelling you right along. Where's old Wooden Shoes? He's responsible forme being here."
"Gone to Chinook. He'll be back in a day or two." Eagle Creek shiftedhis feet awkwardly. "Say"--he glanced uneasily behind him--"yuh don'twant t' let it get around that yuh sort of--hired me--see?"
"Of course not," Rowdy assured him. "I was only joshing. If you don'twant me, just tell me to hit the sod."
"You stay right where you're at!" commanded Eagle Creek with returnedconfidence in himself and his authority. Of a truth, this self-assured,straight-limbed young man had rather dazed him. "Take your bed andwar-bag up to the bunk-house and make yourself t' home till the boys getback, and--say, where'd yuh git that pack-horse?"
The laugh went out of Rowdy's tawny eyes. The question hit a spot thatwas becoming sore. "I borrowed him this morning from Mr. Rodway," hesaid evenly. "I'm to take him back to-day. I stopped there last night."
"Oh!" Eagle Creek coughed apologetically, and said no word, while Rowdyled Chub back to the cabin which he had pointed out as the bunk-house;he stood by while Rowdy loosened the pack and dragged it inside.
"I guess you can get located here," he said. "I ain't workin' more'nthree or four men just now, but there's quite a few uh the boys stoppinghere; the Cross L's a regular hang-out for cow-punchers. You're a littleearly for the season, but I'll see that yuh have something t' do--justt' keep yuh out uh devilment."
Rowdy's brows unbent; it would seem that Eagle Creek was capable of"joshing" also. "It's up t' you, old-timer," he retorted. "I'm strongand willing, and don't shy at anything but pitchforks."
Eagle Creek grinned. "This ain't no blamed cowhospital," he gave as aparting shot. "All the hay that's shoveled on this ranch needn't hurtnobody's feelings." With that he shut the door, and left Rowdy toacquaint himself with his new home.
