by Rex Beach
CHAPTER IV. The Vagrant Sioux
Buckskin gradually readjusted itself to the conditions which had existedbefore its sudden leap into the limelight as a town which did things.The soiree at the Houston House had drifted into the past, and wasnow substantially established as an epoch in the history of thetown. Exuberant joy gave way to dignity and deprecation, and to solidsatisfaction; and the conversations across the bar brought forthparallels of the affair to be judged impartially--and the impartialjudgment was, unanimously, that while there had undoubtedly been goodfights before Perry's Bend had disturbed the local quiet, they were notquite up to the new standard of strenuous hospitality. Finally the heatblistered everything back into the old state, and the shadows continuedto be in demand.
One afternoon, a month after the reception of the honorable delegationfrom Perry's Bend, the town of Buckskin seemed desolated, and the earthand the buildings thereon were as huge furnaces radiating a visibleheat, but when the blazing sun had begun to settle in the west it awokewith a clamor which might have been laid to the efforts of a zealousSatan. At this time it became the Mecca of two score or more joyouscowboys from the neighboring ranches, who livened things as thoseknights of the saddle could.
In the scant but heavy shadow of Cowan's saloon sat a picturesque figurefrom whom came guttural, resonant rumblings which mingled in a spirit ofloneliness with the fretful sighs of a flea-tormented dog. Both dog andmaster were vagrants, and they were tolerated because it was a matter ofsupreme indifference as to who came or how long they stayed as long asthe ethics and the unwritten law of the cow country were inviolate. Andthe breaking of these caused no unnecessary anxiety, for justice wasboth speedy and sure.
When the outcast Sioux and his yellow dog had drifted into town some fewmonths before they had caused neither expostulation nor inquiry, as thecardinal virtue of that whole broad land was to ask a man no questionswhich might prove embarrassing to all concerned; judgment was ofobservation, not of history, and a man's past would reveal itselfthrough actions. It mattered little whether he was an embezzler or thewild chip from some prosperous eastern block, as men came to the rangeto forget and to lose touch with the pampered East; and the rangeabsorbed them as its own.
