The Fighting Edge
Page 22
CHAPTER XXII
AN ALTERNATIVE PROPOSED AND DECLINED
The prediction made by Blister Haines that some overbearing puncher wouldbully Bob because of his reputation as safe game did not long waitfulfillment. A new rider joined the Slash Lazy D outfit. He had beenworking for the K Bar T for a couple of months. Prior to that time he hadnot been seen on the river. The rumor was that he hailed from Wyoming. Toask for more specific information would not have been good form. Morethan one or two cowboys in the Rio Blanco country had left their formerhomes just ahead of a sheriff.
Bandy Walker knew how to rope and ride. That was the main considerationof Harshaw when he hired him. He guessed the fellow's name was not Walkerany more than it was Bandy. One cognomen had been given him because hewas so bow-legged; the other he had no doubt taken for purposes ofnon-identification.
Bandy was short, heavy-set, and muscular. At a glance one would havepicked him out as dangerous. The expression on the face was sulky. Theeyes were expressionless as jade.
He was given the bunk next Dillon and before twenty-four hours were pasthe had begun to bully him. It began with a surly request behind which Bobsensed a command.
"Fellow, get my bridle, won't you? I left it with my saddle somewheresclose to the chuck house. Got to fix it to-night."
Dillon had taken off his high-heeled boots because they were hurting hisfeet. He observed that Walker, lying fully dressed on the blankets, wasstill wearing his.
"Why, sure," Bob said amiably, and he tugged on his boots.
Presently he returned with the bridle and handed it to Bandy.
That was the beginning of it. Before the week was out Bob was the man'sflunkey, the butt of his ill-natured jokes, the helpless victim of hisbad temper. Inside, he writhed. Another failure was being scored againsthim. But what could he do? This Bandy Walker was a gunman and arough-and-tumble fighter. He boasted of it. Bob would be a child in hishands.
The other punchers watched the affair, drew deductions, but made noaudible comments. The law of the outdoors is that every man must play hisown hand. The Slash Lazy D resented Bandy. He was ugly in face, voice,and manner. His speech was offensive. He managed to convey insult by thecurl of his lip. Yet he was cunning enough to keep within the bounds ofsafety. Nobody wanted to pick a quarrel with him, for it might turn outto be a serious business. The fellow looked rancorous. Moreover, theranch riders had no use for Dillon. It would be a relief if Bandy drovehim away. They felt disgraced when cowboys from the Circle Bar or theQuarter Circle Triangle inquired for the health of their new rider MissRoberta.
Dud and Bob were riding Milk Creek one day about a week after Walker'sarrival. They unsaddled at noon and lay down to loaf on a sunny bankclose to the water's edge.
Hollister had been silent all morning, contrary to his usual custom. Hisgood spirits usually radiated gayety.
"What's the matter? Ain't you feelin' good?" Bob asked.
"No, I ain't."
"Stomach?"
"Heart," returned Dud gloomily.
Bob sat up. "Why, I never heard there was anything the matter with yoreheart. If there is, you hadn't ought to be ridin' these crazy colts youdo."
"Nothin' the matter with _my_ heart. It's yore's I'm worryin' about."
Bob flushed, but said nothing.
"I'm wonderin' how long you're aimin' to let that bully puss fellowWalker run over you."
"What can I do?" Bob did not look at his companion. He kept his eyes onthe ground, where he was tracing figures with a broken stick.
"Well, there's seve-re-al things you could do. You might work theplug-ugly over. It couldn't hurt his looks none, an' it might improve'em. That's one suggestion. I've got others where that come from."
"He's a bad actor. I expect he'd half kill me," Bob muttered.
"I reckon he would, onless you beat him to it. That's not the point. Yougot to fight him or admit you're yellow. No two ways about that."
"I can't fight. I never did," groaned Dillon.
"Then how do you know you can't? If you can't, take yore lickin'. But yoube on top of him every minute of the time whilst you're gettin' it. Go toit like a wild cat. Pretty soon something'll drop, an' maybe it won't beyou."
"I--can't."
Dud's blue eyes grew steely. "You can't, eh? Listen, fellow. I promisedBlister to make a man outa you if I could. I aim to do it. You lick Bandygood to-night or I'll whale you to-morrow. That ain't all either. Everytime you let him run on you I'll beat you up next day soon as I get youalone."
Bob looked at him, startled. "You wouldn't do that, Dud?"
"Wouldn't I? Don't you bet I wouldn't. I'm makin' that promise rightnow."
"I thought you were--my friend," Bob faltered.
"Don't you think it. I'm particular who I call by that name. I ain't afriend of any man without sand in his gizzard. But I done give my word toOld Blister an' I gotta come through. It'll hurt you more'n it will me,anyhow."
"I'll quit an' leave this part of the country," Bob said wretchedly.
"I'm not stoppin' you, but you won't go till I've whopped you once good.Will you take it now?"
"Let's talk it over reasonable," Bob pleaded.
Dud looked disgusted. "I never see such a fellow for thinkin' he couldchin himself outa trouble. Nothin' doing."
"You've got no right to interfere in my affairs. It's not yore business,"the worried victim of circumstances declared with an attempt at dignity.
"Say, don't I know it? If I hadn't promised Blister--But what's the use?I done said I would, an' I got to go through."
"I'll let you off yore promise."
Dud shook his head. "Wish you could, but you can't. It was to Blister Igive my word. No, sir. You gotta take or give a lickin', looks like.Either me or Bandy, I ain't particular which."
"You lay off me, Dud Hollister."
"Honest, I hope you'll fix it so's I can. Well, you got till to-morrow todecide. Don't forget. Me or Bandy one. You take yore choice."
"I won't fight you."
"Then it's Bandy. Suits me fine. Say, Bob, I ain't so darned sure thatfellow'll be there so big when it comes to a show-down. He looks to metricky rather than game. Take him by surprise. Then crawl his humpsudden. With which few well-chosen words I close. Yores sincerely,Well-wisher, as these guys sign themselves when they write to thepapers."
All through the rest of the day Bob was depressed. He felt as cheerful asa man about to be hanged. Why couldn't they let him alone? He never inhis life went looking for trouble and it seemed to hunt him out if he wasanywhere in reach. It was not fair. What claim had Dud to mix into hisdifficulties with Bandy? Absolutely none.
He made up his mind to slip away in the night, ride to Glenwood, and takethe train for Denver. There a fellow could live in peace.