Rowdy of the Cross L

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER 10. Harry Conroy at Home.

  It was late next morning when they got under way; for they had notreached camp until long after midnight, and Wooden Shoes was determinedthe cattle should have one good feed, and all the water they wanted, torequite them for the hard drive of the day before.

  Pink rode out with Rowdy to the herd--a heavylidded, gloomy Rowdy hewas, and not amiably inclined toward the small talk of the range. ButPink had slept five whole hours and was almost his normal self; whichmeans that speech was not to be denied him.

  "What yuh mourning over?" he bantered. "Mad 'cause the reservation's soclose?"

  "Sure," assented Rowdy, with deep sarcasm.

  "That's what I thought. Studying up the nicest way uh givingbrother-in-law the glad hand, ain't yuh?"

  "He's no relation uh mine--and never will be," said Rowdy curtly. "AndI'll thank you, Pink, to drop that subject for good and all."

  "Down she goes," assented Pink, quite unperturbed. "But the cards ain'tall turned yet, yuh want to remember, I wouldn't pass on no hand likeyou've got. If I wanted a girl right bad, Rowdy, I'd wait till I gotrefused before I'd quit."

  "Seems to me you've changed your politics lately," Rowdy retorted. "Awhile back you was cussing the whole business; and now you're worse thanan old maid aunt. Pink, you may not be wise to the fact, but you sureare an inconsistent little devil."

  "Are yuh going t' hunt Harry up and--"

  "I thought I told you to drop that."

  "Did yuh? All right, then--only I hope yuh didn't leave your gun packedaway in your bed," he insinuated.

  "You can take a look to-night, if you want to."

  Pink laughed in a particularly infectious way he had, and, before hequite knew it, Rowdy was laughing, also. After that the world did notlook quite so forlorn as it had, nor the day's work so distasteful. SoPink, having accomplished his purpose, was content to turn the subject.

  "There's old Liney"--he pointed her out to Rowdy--"fresh as ameadow-lark. I had a big grouch against her yesterday, just because shebatted her eyes and kept putting one foot ahead uh the other. I could'a' killed her. But she's all right, that old girl. The way she led outdown that black coulee last night wasn't slow! Say, she's an ambitiousold party. I wish you was riding point with me, Rowdy. The Silent Onetalks just about as much as that old cow. He sure loves to live up tohis rep."

  "Oh, go on to work," Rowdy admonished. "You make me think of a magpie."All the same, he looked after him with smiling lips, and eyes thatforgot their gloom. He even whistled while he helped round up thescattered herd, ready for that last day's drive.

  Every man in the outfit comforted himself with the thought that itwas the last day's drive. After long weeks of trailing lean herds overbarren, windbrushed hills, the last day meant much to them. Even theSilent One sang something they had never heard before, about "If Only IKnew You Were True."

  They crossed the Rocking R field, took down four panels of fence, passedout, and carefully put them up again behind them. Before them stretchedlevel plain for two miles; beyond that a high, rocky ridge that promisedsome trouble with the herd, and after that more plain and a couleee ortwo, and then, on a far slope--the reservation.

  The cattle were rested and fed, and walked out briskly; the ridge nearedperceptibly. Pink's shrill whistle carried far back down the line andmingled pleasantly with voices calling to one another across the herd.Not a man was humped listlessly in his saddle; instead, they rode withshoulders back and hats at divers jaunty angles to keep the sun fromshining in eyes that faced the future cheerfully.

  The herd steadily climbed the ridge, choosing the smoothest path and theeasiest slope. Pink assured the line-backed cow that she was a peach,and told her to "go to it, old girl." The Silent One's pockets werequite empty of rocks, and the prairiedogs chipped and flirted theirfunny little tails unassailed. And Rowdy, from wondering what had madePink change his attitude so abruptly, began to plan industriously thenext meeting with Jessie Conroy, and to build a new castle that washigher and airier than any he had ever before attempted--and perhapshad a more flimsy foundation; for it rested precariously on Pink's idleremarks.

  The point gained the top of the ridge, and Pink turned and swung his hatjubilantly at the others. The reservation was in sight, though it layseveral miles distant. But in that clear air one could distinguish theline fence--if one had the eye of faith and knew just where to look.Presently he observed a familiar horseman climbing the ridge to meetthem.

  "Eagle Creek's coming," he shouted to the man behind. "Come alive,there, and don't let 'em roam all over the map. Git some style on yuh!"

  Those who heard laughed; no one ever dreamed of being offended at whatPink said. Those who had not heard had the news passed on to them,in various forms. Wooden Shoes, who had been loitering in the reargossiping with the men, rode on to meet Smith.

  Eagle Creek urged his horse up the last steep place, right in the faceof the leaders, which halted and tried to turn back. Pink, swearing in awhisper, began to force them forward.

  "Let 'em alone," Eagle Creek bellowed harshly. "They ain't goin' nofarther."

  "W-what?" Pink stopped short and eyed him critically. Eagle Creek couldnot justly be called a teetotaler; but Pink had never known him toget worse than a bit wobbly in his legs; his mind had never foggedperceptibly. Still, something was wrong with him, that was certain.Pink glanced dubiously across at the Silent One and saw him shrug hisshoulders expressively.

  Eagle Creek rode up and stopped within ten feet of the line-backed cow;she seemed hurt at being held up in this manner, Pink thought.

  "Yuh'll have t' turn this herd back," Eagle Creek announced bluntly.

  "Where to?" Pink asked, too stunned to take in the meaning of it.

  "T' hell, I guess. It's the only place I know of where everybody'swelcome." Eagle Creek's tone was not pleasant.

  "We just came from there," Pink said simply, thinking of the horrors ofthat drive.

  "Where's Wooden Shoes?" snapped the old man; and the foreman's hat-crownappeared at that instant over the ridge.

  "Well, we're up against it," Eagle Creek greeted. "That damn' agent--orthe fellow he had workin' for him--reported his renting us pasture. Madethe report read about twice as many as we're puttin' on. He's got ordersnow t' turn out every hoof but what b'longs there."

  "My Lord!" Wooden Shoes gasped at the catastrophe which faced the CrossL.

  "That's Harry Conroy's work," Pink cut in sharply' "He'd hurt the CrossL if he could, t' spite me and Rowdy. He--"

  "Don't matter--seein' it's done. Yuh might as well turn the herd looseright here, an' let 'em go t' the devil. I don't know what else t' dowith 'em."

  "Anything gone wrong?" It was Rowdy, who had left his place and riddenforward to see what was holding the herd back.

  "Naw. We're fired off the reservation, is all. We got orders to take theherd to hell. Eagle Creek's leased it. Mr. Satan is going to keep househere in Montana; he says it's better for his trade," Pink informed him,in his girlish treble.

  Eagle Creek turned on him fiercely, then thought better of it andgrinned. "Them arrangements wouldn't make us any worse off'n what weare," he commented. "Turn 'em loose, boys."

  "Man, if yuh turn 'em loose here, the first storm that hits 'em, theyall die," Wooden Shoes interposed excitedly. "They ain't nothings for'em. We had t' turn 'em into the Rockin' R field last night, t'git water an' feed. Red Willow's gone dry outside dat field. Theyain't--nothings. They'll die!"

  Eagle Creek looked at him dully. For the first time in his life he facedutter ruin. "Damn 'em, let 'em die, then!" he said.

  "That's what they'll sure do," Wooden Shoes reiterated stubbornly. "Ifthey don't git feed and water now, yuh needn't start no round-up nextspring."

  Pink's eyes went down over the close-huddled backs and the thicketof polished horns, and his eyelids stung. Would all of them die, hewondered! Four thousand! He hoped not. There must be some way out. Downthe hill, he knew the cowboys were making cigarett
es while they waitedand wondered mightily what it was all about If they only knew, hethought, there would be more than one rope ready for Harry Conroy.

  "How about the Peck reservation? Couldn't you get them on there?" Rowdyventured.

  "Not a hoof!" growled Eagle Creek, with his chin sunk against his chest."There's thirty thousand Valley County cattle on there now." He lookeddown at the cattle, as Pink had done. "God! It's bad enough t' gobroke," he groaned; "but t' think uh them poor brutes dyin' off inbunches, for want uh grass an' water! I've run that brand fer overthirty year."