by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XIX
THE ORPHAN GOES TO THE A-Y
The A-Y had been a very busy place for the past two weeks because of thecattle which had to be re-branded and taken care of, and of other thingswhich had to be done about the ranch. The sheriff had taken title andhad persuaded Crawford to remain in nominal charge for a month at themost so as to keep the sale a secret until the new owner would be ready tomake it known. So word went around that Crawford had hired the sheriff toput things on a paying basis and that half of the old outfit had left,their places being filled by Charley, the two Larkin brothers and twomen from a northern ranch.
Shields had been very much pleased with the cattle which The Orphanhad bought for him and had asked Blake if he could borrow the newpuncher to help him get things in good running shape. Blake had told TheOrphan of the sheriff's request and had advised him to accept, which thepuncher was very glad to do. So this is how the former outlaw becametemporary foreman of the A-Y under the sheriff. Only the sheriff's mostintimate friends knew his plans, one of whom was Charley Winter, whofound food for mirth in the unique position things had taken. Thesheriff's deputies who had lain out-doors all night on the Cross Bar-8waiting to capture or kill the outlaw were now working under him, andthe best of feelings prevailed. The man who had hunted The Orphan nowemployed him as the bearer of the responsibilities of the new ranch.Truly, a change!
While The Orphan was busy with his duties on the A-Y the sheriff rode tothe Star C and sought out the foreman, whom he finally found engaged infreeing a cow that had become mired in a quicksand. As the terror-strickenanimal galloped wildly away from the scene of torture and indignities toits person Blake mopped his face and began to scrape the quicksand fromhim.
"Playing life-saver, eh?" laughed the sheriff.
The foreman looked up and smiled sheepishly: "Yes," he replied as he shookhands with the sheriff. "One cow more or less won't make nor break noranch, but I just can't see 'em suffer. The boys and I were passing, sowe stopped and got to work. But cows ain't got no gratitude, not nohow!That ornery beast will be all ready to charge me the first time he seesme afoot. Did you see him try to horn me when I let go?"
His friend laughed, and when they had ridden some distance from the othershe turned in his saddle:
"Well, The Orphan is working like a horse, and he likes it, too," hesaid. "You ought to hear him giving orders--he just asks a man to do athing, don't order it done. When he talks it sounds like the puncherwould be doing him the greatest possible favor to do the work he is paidto do, but there is a suggestion that if any nastiness develops, hellwill be a peaceful place compared to the near vicinity of the foremanof the A-Y. He sizes up a thing with one look, and then tells how itshould be done. Everything has gone off so fine that I'm going to askyou to lose a good man, and real soon, too. What do you say, Tom?"
Blake laughed: "Why, we were a-plenty before he came and we'll be a-plentyafter he goes. That's for your asking me to turn him over to you. Theboys will be both sorry and glad to have him leave, because they likehim a whole lot. But of course they want to see him land everythingthat he can, so they'll give him a good send-off. That reminds me tosay that I know they will want to be on hand when you break the news tohim. It'll be a circus for your Eastern friend, Miss Ritchie."
"Now you're talking!" enthused the sheriff. "I want to have as manyfireworks at the ceremony as I can possibly get. Oh, it'll be a greatday, all right. We are all going out and take a bang-up lunch, justlike we're going on that picnic that Bill's been so worried about, andBill is going to drive the women over in his coach. The first surprisewill be the announcement of the new ownership of the A-Y, and right ontop of it I'm going to fire the second gun. I hope none of your boysknow anything about it," he added with anxiety.
"Not a thing," hastily replied the foreman. "You have your wife send amessage to me by Joe when he rustles our mail to-morrow and ask us to cometo the picnic at the A-Y on the day which you will decide on. They'll go,all right, no fear about that. Nothing more than your wife's cooking isneeded to attract them," and he laughed heartily at how suddenly theywould come to life at such a summons.
Shields thought intently for a few seconds and then slapped his thigh:"I've got it!" he exulted. "I'll ride over to your place with you andwrite a letter to my wife telling her just what to do. Joe can deliverit and bring back the invitation. You see, I won't be home to-night, butthat will do the trick, all right. Now, what do you say to this comingSaturday?--this is, let me see: Wednesday. Will that be time enough foryou to make any arrangements you may want to make?"
"Shore, plenty of time," Blake laughed. "It's good all the way. Joe willbe delighted to have a real good excuse to call at your house. He's abashful cuss, like all the rest. They talk big, but they're some bashfulall the same. He's been worrying about it, for one day he came to mewith a funny expression on his face and acted like he didn't know howto begin. So I asked him what was troubling him, and he blurted out likethis, as near as I can remember:
"'Well, you know Mrs. Shields said we was to go to her house when any ofus hit town?' he asked.
"'I shore do,' I answered, wondering what was up.
"'Well, I go to town a lot, and it takes a h--l of a lot of gall to doit,' he complained, looking so serious that it was funny.
"'Gall!' said I, surprised-like, and trying to keep my face straight.'Gall! Well, I can't see that it takes such a brave man to call at afriend's house when he's been told to do it.'
"'Oh, that part of it is all right," he replied. 'But she'll think I onlycall to get my face fed, and it makes me feel like a--I don't know what.You see, I always get away quick.'
"'Well, stay longer, there ain't no use of being in a hurry,' I said.'Stay and talk a while.'
"'Then they'll think I ain't got enough and push more pie at me, like theydid once,' he complained.
"'Suppose I give Silent your terrible ordeal to do,' I suggestedtentatively, 'or Bud, he's dead anxious for your job.'
"'Oh, it ain't as bad as that!' he cried quickly. 'I only thought thatI'd speak to you about it. I thought you could suggest something.'
"'Well,' I replied, 'every time you call you say I sent you over to askabout the sheriff's health. How'll that do?'
"He grinned sheepishly and then swore: 'H--l, that would make a shoreenough mess of it,' he cried. 'I'd be a royal American idiot to say athing like that, now, wouldn't I?'"
The sheriff laughed heartily, and they talked about the picnic until theyhad reached the ranch-house, where he wrote the note to his wife. Biddinghis friend good-by, he rode out past the corrals and headed for the A-Y.
When about half-way to his own ranch, and on A-Y ground, he surmounted arise and saw a figure flit from sight behind a thicket, and his curiositywas immediately aroused. Not knowing who the man might be, he stalked hisquarry and finally found Bucknell standing beside his horse.
"Well, what's the trouble now?" the sheriff asked as he came out intosight. He was dangerously near angry, for Bucknell was on forbidden groundand was flushed as if from liquor. "What's the trouble?" he repeated.
Bucknell looked confused: "Nothing, Sheriff. Why?" he asked, evading thesearching gaze of the peace officer.
"Oh, I thought something might have gone wrong on the Cross Bar-8, andthat you were looking for me," Shields coldly replied.
Bucknell looked at the ground and coughed nervously before he replied,which only made the sheriff all the more determined to get at the matterin a true light.
"No, nothing's wrong," replied the puncher. "I was just riding out thisway--I was some nervous, that's all."
"That don't go with me!" the sheriff said sharply. "I've lived too longto bite on a yarn like that. Why, you can't look at me!"
The puncher did not reply and the sheriff continued:
"Now, look here, Bucknell, take some good advice from me--stay on yourranch, mind your own business and let liquor alone. As sure as youmonkey around the Star C Blake will give you a d----n sound licking, andhe
's man enough to do it, too, make no error. And as for the A-Y, well,the temporary foreman of that ranch is the cleverest man with a gun that Iever saw, and I've seen some good ones in my time. If you go up againsthim you'll get shot, for he'd think you were about the easiest propositionhe ever met. As sure as you drink you'll get drunk, and as sure as youget drunk you'll work up an appetite for a fight, and if you pick afight with him you'll never know what hit you. You stick to water andthe Cross Bar-8."
"Oh, I reckon I can take care of my own business," sullenly repliedBucknell. "I can come out here drunk or sober if I wants to, I reckon."
"You can do nothing of the kind," rejoined the sheriff. "And you certainlyought to be able to take care of your own business, as you say," heretorted, holding his temper with an effort. "But in the past you didn't,and you may not in the future. And when your business gets too big for youto handle it gets into my hands, and if you make any trouble I'll d----nsoon convince you that I can handle your surplus. Now, get out of here andthink it over."
Bucknell swung into his saddle and then turned, the liquor making himreckless.
"D----n it!" he cried. "The Orphant killed Jimmy and a whole lot more goodcow-punchers! He's nothing but a murdering thief, a d----d rustler, that'swhat he is! And you are his best friend, it seems!"
The wan smile flickered across the sheriff's face, but still he refrained,for such is the foolish consideration given by brave men to liquor. Adrunkard may do much with impunity, for the argument states he is notresponsible, forgetting that in the beginning he was responsible enoughto have left liquor alone, and that injury, whether unintentional ornot, is still injury.
"There is no seem about it!" he retorted. "I _am_ his best friend, andhe needs friends bad enough, God knows. But speaking of murder, thosefour good cow-punchers that stopped me in the defile tried hard enough toqualify at it, and The Orphan not only saved me, but also some of them,for I'd a gotten some of them before I cashed. You're a h--l of a finecub to talk about murders, you are!"
"That's all right," retorted Bucknell, "he's just what I said he was. Anda side pardner of our brave sheriff, too!"
"D----n you!" shouted Shields, his face dark with passion. "You havesaid enough, any more from you and I'll break your dirty neck! Justbecause I felt sorry for you when you got half killed in the saloonand let you stay in the country don't think you are the boss of thissection. When I saw what a pitiful, drunken wreck you were, I felt sorryfor you, but not any more. You don't want decent treatment, you wantto get clubbed, and you're right in line to get just what you need, too!Now, I'm not going to stand any more of your d----d foolishness--mypatience is played out. And if you were half a man you wouldn't sit therelike a bump on a log and swallow what I'm saying--you'd put up a fightif you died for it. You are no good, just a drunken, lawless fool of apuncher; just a bag of wind, and it's up to you to walk a chalk line orI'll give you a taste of what I carry around with me for bums of yourkind. What in h--l do you think I am? No, you don't, you stay rightwhere you are 'til I get good and ready to have you go! You've comed----d near the end of your rope and there is just one thing for youto do, and that is, get out of this country and do it quick! You stay onyour own side of the Limping Water, for if I catch you riding off anynervousness off of Cross Bar-8 ground without word from your foreman,I'll shoot you down like I'd shoot a coyote! And for a dollar I'd wipe upthe earth with you right now! You d----d, sneaking, cowardly cur, youtin-horn bully! Pull your stakes and get scarce and don't you open yourmouth to me--come on, lively! Pull your freight!"
Bucknell slowly rode away, his eyes to the ground and not daring to saywhat seethed in his heart. He swore to himself that he would get squaresome day on both, not realizing in his anger that when sober he fearedthem both.
The sheriff stared after him and then returned to the point where hehad left his horse. As he mounted he shook his head savagely and swore.Glancing again after the puncher he struck into a canter and rode towardthe ranch.
