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diff --git a/old/1385-h/1385-h.htm b/old/1385-h/1385-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..59222c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1385-h/1385-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10384 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Lin Mclean, by Owen Wister + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lin McLean, by Owen Wister + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lin McLean + +Author: Owen Wister + +Release Date: August 22, 2008 [EBook #1385] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIN MCLEAN *** + + + + +Produced by Bill Brewer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + LIN McLEAN + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Owen Wister + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + DEDICATION + </h4> + <p> + MY DEAR HARRY MERCER: When Lin McLean was only a hero in manuscript, he + received his first welcome and chastening beneath your patient roof. By + none so much as by you has he in private been helped and affectionately + disciplined, an now you must stand godfather to him upon this public page. + </p> + <p> + Always yours, + </p> + <p> + OWEN WISTER + </p> + <p> + Philadelphia, 1897 + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> HOW LIN McLEAN WENT EAST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE WINNING OF THE BISCUIT-SHOOTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> LIN McLEAN'S HONEY-MOON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> SEPAR'S VIGILANTE </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> <b>DESTINY AT DRYBONE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART"> PART I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> PART II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART3"> PART III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART4"> PART IV </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IN THE AFTER-DAYS </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + HOW LIN McLEAN WENT EAST + </h2> + <p> + In the old days, the happy days, when Wyoming was a Territory with a + future instead of a State with a past, and the unfenced cattle grazed upon + her ranges by prosperous thousands, young Lin McLean awaked early one + morning in cow camp, and lay staring out of his blankets upon the world. + He would be twenty-two this week. He was the youngest cow-puncher in camp. + But because he could break wild horses, he was earning more dollars a + month than any man there, except one. The cook was a more indispensable + person. None save the cook was up, so far, this morning. Lin's brother + punchers slept about him on the ground, some motionless, some shifting + their prone heads to burrow deeper from the increasing day. The busy work + of spring was over, that of the fall, or beef round-up, not yet come. It + was mid-July, a lull for these hard-riding bachelors of the saddle, and + many unspent dollars stood to Mr. McLean's credit on the ranch books. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with some variety?” muttered the boy in his blankets. + </p> + <p> + The long range of the mountains lifted clear in the air. They slanted from + the purple folds and furrows of the pines that richly cloaked them, upward + into rock and grassy bareness until they broke remotely into bright peaks, + and filmed into the distant lavender of the north and the south. On their + western side the streams ran into Snake or into Green River, and so at + length met the Pacific. On this side, Wind River flowed forth from them, + descending out of the Lake of the Painted Meadows. A mere trout-brook it + was up there at the top of the divide, with easy riffles and + stepping-stones in many places; but down here, outside the mountains, it + was become a streaming avenue, a broadening course, impetuous between its + two tall green walls of cottonwood-trees. And so it wound away like a vast + green ribbon across the lilac-gray sage-brush and the yellow, vanishing + plains. + </p> + <p> + “Variety, you bet!” young Lin repeated, aloud. + </p> + <p> + He unrolled himself from his bed, and brought from the garments that made + his pillow a few toilet articles. He got on his long boy legs and limped + blithely to the margin. In the mornings his slight lameness was always + more visible. The camp was at Bull Lake Crossing, where the fork from Bull + Lake joins Wind River. Here Lin found some convenient shingle-stones, with + dark, deepish water against them, where he plunged his face and + energetically washed, and came up with the short curly hair shining upon + his round head. After enough looks at himself in the dark water, and + having knotted a clean, jaunty handkerchief at his throat, he returned + with his slight limp to camp, where they were just sitting at breakfast to + the rear of the cook-shelf of the wagon. + </p> + <p> + “Bugged up to kill!” exclaimed one, perceiving Lin's careful dress. + </p> + <p> + “He sure has not shaved again?” another inquired, with concern. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't got my opera-glasses on,” answered a third. + </p> + <p> + “He has spared that pansy-blossom mustache,” said a fourth. + </p> + <p> + “My spring crop,” remarked young Lin, rounding on this last one, “has + juicier prospects than that rat-eaten catastrophe of last year's hay which + wanders out of your face.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you'll soon be talking yourself into a regular man,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + But the camp laugh remained on the side of young Lin till breakfast was + ended, when the ranch foreman rode into camp. + </p> + <p> + Him Lin McLean at once addressed. “I was wantin' to speak to you,” said + he. + </p> + <p> + The experienced foreman noticed the boy's holiday appearance. “I + understand you're tired of work,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Who told you?” asked the bewildered Lin. + </p> + <p> + The foreman touched the boy's pretty handkerchief. “Well, I have a way of + taking things in at a glance,” said he. “That's why I'm foreman, I expect. + So you've had enough work?” + </p> + <p> + “My system's full of it,” replied Lin, grinning. As the foreman stood + thinking, he added, “And I'd like my time.” + </p> + <p> + Time, in the cattle idiom, meant back-pay up to date. + </p> + <p> + “It's good we're not busy,” said the foreman. + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' I'd quit all the same?” inquired Lin, rapidly, flushing. + </p> + <p> + “No—not meaning any offence. Catch up your horse. I want to make the + post before it gets hot.” + </p> + <p> + The foreman had come down the river from the ranch at Meadow Creek, and + the post, his goal, was Fort Washakie. All this part of the country formed + the Shoshone Indian Reservation, where, by permission, pastured the herds + whose owner would pay Lin his time at Washakie. So the young cow-puncher + flung on his saddle and mounted. + </p> + <p> + “So-long!” he remarked to the camp, by way of farewell. He might never be + going to see any of them again; but the cow-punchers were not + demonstrative by habit. + </p> + <p> + “Going to stop long at Washakie?” asked one. + </p> + <p> + “Alma is not waiter-girl at the hotel now,” another mentioned. + </p> + <p> + “If there's a new girl,” said a third, “kiss her one for me, and tell her + I'm handsomer than you.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't a deceiver of women,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “That's why you'll tell her,” replied his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Lin, why are you quittin' us so sudden, anyway?” asked the cook, + grieved to lose him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm after some variety,” said the boy. + </p> + <p> + “If you pick up more than you can use, just can a little of it for me!” + shouted the cook at the departing McLean. + </p> + <p> + This was the last of camp by Bull Lake Crossing, and in the foreman's + company young Lin now took the road for his accumulated dollars. + </p> + <p> + “So you're leaving your bedding and stuff with the outfit?” said the + foreman. + </p> + <p> + “Brought my tooth-brush,” said Lin, showing it in the breast-pocket of his + flannel shirt. + </p> + <p> + “Going to Denver?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, maybe.” + </p> + <p> + “Take in San Francisco?” + </p> + <p> + “Sounds slick.” + </p> + <p> + “Made any plans?” + </p> + <p> + “Gosh, no!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't want anything on your brain?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin' except my hat, I guess,” said Lin, and broke into cheerful song: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Twas a nasty baby anyhow, + And it only died to spite us; + 'Twas afflicted with the cerebrow + Spinal meningitis!'” + </pre> + <p> + They wound up out of the magic valley of Wind River, through the bastioned + gullies and the gnome-like mystery of dry water-courses, upward and up to + the level of the huge sage-brush plain above. Behind lay the deep valley + they had climbed from, mighty, expanding, its trees like bushes, its + cattle like pebbles, its opposite side towering also to the edge of this + upper plain. There it lay, another world. One step farther away from its + rim, and the two edges of the plain had flowed together over it like a + closing sea, covering without a sign or ripple the great country which lay + sunk beneath. + </p> + <p> + “A man might think he'd dreamed he'd saw that place,” said Lin to the + foreman, and wheeled his horse to the edge again. “She's sure there, + though,” he added, gazing down. For a moment his boy face grew thoughtful. + “Shucks!” said he then, abruptly, “where's any joy in money that's comin' + till it arrives? I have most forgot the feel o' spot-cash.” + </p> + <p> + He turned his horse away from the far-winding vision of the river, and + took a sharp jog after the foreman, who had not been waiting for him. Thus + they crossed the eighteen miles of high plain, and came down to Fort + Washakie, in the valley of Little Wind, before the day was hot. + </p> + <p> + His roll of wages once jammed in his pocket like an old handkerchief, + young Lin precipitated himself out of the post-trader's store and away on + his horse up the stream among the Shoshone tepees to an unexpected + entertainment—a wolf-dance. He had meant to go and see what the new + waiter-girl at the hotel looked like, but put this off promptly to attend + the dance. This hospitality the Shoshone Indians were extending to some + visiting Ute friends, and the neighborhood was assembled to watch the ring + of painted naked savages. + </p> + <p> + The post-trader looked after the galloping Lin. “What's he quitting his + job for?” he asked the foreman. + </p> + <p> + “Same as most of 'em quit.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Been satisfactory?” + </p> + <p> + “Never had a boy more so. Good-hearted, willing, a plumb dare-devil with a + horse.” + </p> + <p> + “And worthless,” suggested the post-trader. + </p> + <p> + “Well—not yet. He's headed that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Been punching cattle long?” + </p> + <p> + “Came in the country about seventy-eight, I believe, and rode for the + Bordeaux Outfit most a year, and quit. Blew in at Cheyenne till he went + broke, and worked over on to the Platte. Rode for the C. Y. Outfit most a + year, and quit. Blew in at Buffalo. Rode for Balaam awhile on Butte Creek. + Broke his leg. Went to the Drybone Hospital, and when the fracture was + commencing to knit pretty good he broke it again at the hog-ranch across + the bridge. Next time you're in Cheyenne get Dr. Barker to tell you about + that. McLean drifted to Green River last year and went up over on to + Snake, and up Snake, and was around with a prospecting outfit on Galena + Creek by Pitchstone Canyon. Seems he got interested in some Dutchwoman up + there, but she had trouble—died, I think they said—and he came + down by Meteetsee to Wind River. He's liable to go to Mexico or Africa + next.” + </p> + <p> + “If you need him,” said the post-trader, closing his ledger, “you can + offer him five more a month.” + </p> + <p> + “That'll not hold him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let him go. Have a cigar. The bishop is expected for Sunday, and + I've got to see his room is fixed up for him.” + </p> + <p> + “The bishop!” said the foreman. “I've heard him highly spoken of.” + </p> + <p> + “You can hear him preach to-morrow. The bishop is a good man.” + </p> + <p> + “He's better than that; he's a man,” stated the foreman—“at least so + they tell me.” + </p> + <p> + Now, saving an Indian dance, scarce any possible event at the Shoshone + agency could assemble in one spot so many sorts of inhabitants as a visit + from this bishop. Inhabitants of four colors gathered to view the + wolf-dance this afternoon—red men, white men, black men, yellow men. + Next day, three sorts came to church at the agency. The Chinese laundry + was absent. But because, indeed (as the foreman said), the bishop was not + only a good man but a man, Wyoming held him in respect and went to look at + him. He stood in the agency church and held the Episcopal service this + Sunday morning for some brightly glittering army officers and their + families, some white cavalry, and some black infantry; the agency doctor, + the post-trader, his foreman, the government scout, three gamblers, the + waiter-girl from the hotel, the stage-driver, who was there because she + was; old Chief Washakie, white-haired and royal in blankets, with two + royal Utes splendid beside him; one benchful of squatting Indian children, + silent and marvelling; and, on the back bench, the commanding officer's + new hired-girl, and, beside her, Lin McLean. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean's hours were already various and successful. Even at the + wolf-dance, before he had wearied of its monotonous drumming and pageant, + his roving eye had rested upon a girl whose eyes he caught resting upon + him. A look, an approach, a word, and each was soon content with the + other. Then, when her duties called her to the post from him and the + stream's border, with a promise for next day he sought the hotel and found + the three gamblers anxious to make his acquaintance; for when a + cow-puncher has his pay many people will take an interest in him. The + three gamblers did not know that Mr. McLean could play cards. He left them + late in the evening fat with their money, and sought the tepees of the + Arapahoes. They lived across the road from the Shoshones, and among their + tents the boy remained until morning. He was here in church now, keeping + his promise to see the bishop with the girl of yesterday; and while he + gravely looked at the bishop, Miss Sabina Stone allowed his arm to + encircle her waist. No soldier had achieved this yet, but Lin was the + first cow-puncher she had seen, and he had given her the handkerchief from + round his neck. + </p> + <p> + The quiet air blew in through the windows and door, the pure, light breath + from the mountains; only, passing over their foot-hills it had caught and + carried the clear aroma of the sage-brush. This it brought into church, + and with this seemed also to float the peace and great silence of the + plains. The little melodeon in the corner, played by one of the ladies at + the post, had finished accompanying the hymn, and now it prolonged a few + closing chords while the bishop paused before his address, resting his + keen eyes on the people. He was dressed in a plain suit of black with a + narrow black tie. This was because the Union Pacific Railroad, while it + had delivered him correctly at Green River, had despatched his robes + towards Cheyenne. + </p> + <p> + Without citing chapter and verse the bishop began: + </p> + <p> + “And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way + off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck + and kissed him.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop told the story of that surpassing parable, and then proceeded + to draw from it a discourse fitted to the drifting destinies in whose + presence he found himself for one solitary morning. He spoke unlike many + clergymen. His words were chiefly those which the people round him used, + and his voice was more like earnest talking than preaching. + </p> + <p> + Miss Sabina Stone felt the arm of her cow-puncher loosen slightly, and she + looked at him. But he was looking at the bishop, no longer gravely but + with wide-open eyes, alert. When the narrative reached the elder brother + in the field, and how he came to the house and heard sounds of music and + dancing, Miss Stone drew away from her companion and let him watch the + bishop, since he seemed to prefer that. She took to reading hymns + vindictively. The bishop himself noted the sun-browned boy face and the + wide-open eyes. He was too far away to see anything but the alert, + listening position of the young cow-puncher. He could not discern how + that, after he had left the music and dancing and begun to draw morals, + attention faded from those eyes that seemed to watch him, and they filled + with dreaminess. It was very hot in church. Chief Washakie went to sleep, + and so did a corporal; but Lin McLean sat in the same alert position till + Miss Stone pulled him and asked if he intended to sit down through the + hymn. Then church was out. Officers, Indians, and all the people dispersed + through the great sunshine to their dwellings, and the cow-puncher rode + beside Sabina in silence. + </p> + <p> + “What are you studying over, Mr. McLean?” inquired the lady, after a + hundred yards. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever taste steamed Duxbury clams?” asked Lin, absently. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. What's them?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just clams. Yu' have drawn butter, too.” Mr. McLean fell silent + again. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll be late for settin' the colonel's table. Good-bye,” said + Sabina, quickly, and swished her whip across the pony, who scampered away + with her along the straight road across the plain to the post. + </p> + <p> + Lin caught up with her at once and made his peace. + </p> + <p> + “Only,” protested Sabina, “I ain't used to gentlemen taking me out and—well, + same as if I was a collie-dog. Maybe it's Wind River politeness.” + </p> + <p> + But she went riding with him up Trout Creek in the cool of the afternoon. + Out of the Indian tepees, scattered wide among the flat levels of + sage-brush, smoke rose thin and gentle, and vanished. They splashed across + the many little running channels which lead water through that thirsty + soil, and though the range of mountains came no nearer, behind them the + post, with its white, flat buildings and green trees, dwindled to a toy + village. + </p> + <p> + “My! but it's far to everywheres here,” exclaimed Sabina, “and it's little + you're sayin' for yourself to-day, Mr. McLean. I'll have to do the + talking. What's that thing now, where the rocks are?” + </p> + <p> + “That's Little Wind River Canyon,” said the young man. “Feel like goin' + there, Miss Stone?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. It looks real nice and shady like, don't it? Let's.” + </p> + <p> + So Miss Stone turned her pony in that direction. + </p> + <p> + “When do your folks eat supper?” inquired Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Half-past six. Oh, we've lots of time! Come on.” + </p> + <p> + “How many miles per hour do you figure that cayuse of yourn can travel?” + Lin asked. + </p> + <p> + “What are you a-talking about, anyway? You're that strange to-day,” said + the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Only if we try to make that canyon, I guess you'll be late settin' the + colonel's table,” Lin remarked, his hazel eyes smiling upon her. “That is, + if your horse ain't good for twenty miles an hour. Mine ain't, I know. But + I'll do my best to stay with yu'.” + </p> + <p> + “You're the teasingest man—” said Miss Stone, pouting. “I might have + knowed it was ever so much further nor it looked.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain't sayin' I don't want to go, if yu' was desirous of campin' + out to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McLean! Indeed, and I'd do no such thing!” and Sabina giggled. + </p> + <p> + A sage-hen rose under their horses' feet, and hurtled away heavily over + the next rise of ground, taking a final wide sail out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “Something like them partridges used to,” said Lin, musingly. + </p> + <p> + “Partridges?” inquired Sabina. + </p> + <p> + “Used to be in the woods between Lynn and Salem. Maybe the woods are gone + by this time. Yes, they must be gone, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + Presently they dismounted and sought the stream bank. + </p> + <p> + “We had music and dancing at Thanksgiving and such times,” said Lin, his + wiry length stretched on the grass beside the seated Sabina. He was not + looking at her, but she took a pleasure in watching him, his curly head + and bronze face, against which the young mustache showed to its full + advantage. + </p> + <p> + “I expect you used to dance a lot,” remarked Sabina, for a subject. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Do yu' know the Portland Fancy?” + </p> + <p> + Sabina did not, and her subject died away. + </p> + <p> + “Did anybody ever tell you you had good eyes?” she inquired next. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sure,” said Lin, waking for a moment; “but I like your color best. A + girl's eyes will mostly beat a man's.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I don't think so!” exclaimed poor Sabina, too much expectant to + perceive the fatal note of routine with which her transient admirer + pronounced this gallantry. He informed her that hers were like the sea, + and she told him she had not yet looked upon the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Never?” said he. “It's a turruble pity you've never saw salt water. It's + different from fresh. All around home it's blue—awful blue in July—around + Swampscott and Marblehead and Nahant, and around the islands. I've swam + there lots. Then our home bruck up and we went to board in Boston.” He + snapped off a flower in reach of his long arm. Suddenly all dreaminess + left him. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if you'll be settin' the colonel's table when I come back?” he + said. + </p> + <p> + Miss Stone was at a loss. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' East to-morrow—East, to Boston.” + </p> + <p> + Yesterday he had told her that sixteen miles to Lander was the farthest + journey from the post that he intended to make—the farthest from the + post and her. + </p> + <p> + “I hope nothing ain't happened to your folks?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't got no folks,” replied Lin, “barring a brother. I expect he is + taking good care of himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you correspond?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess he would if there was anything to say. There ain't been + nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + Sabina thought they must have quarrelled, but learned that they had not. + It was time for her now to return and set the colonel's table, so Lin rose + and went to bring her horse. When he had put her in her saddle she noticed + him step to his own. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I didn't know you were lame!” cried she. + </p> + <p> + “Shucks!” said Lin. “It don't cramp my style any.” He had sprung on his + horse, ridden beside her, leaned and kissed her before she got any measure + of his activity. + </p> + <p> + “That's how,” said he; and they took their homeward way galloping. “No,” + Lin continued, “Frank and me never quarrelled. I just thought I'd have a + look at this Western country. Frank, he thought dry-goods was good enough + for him, and so we're both satisfied, I expect. And that's a lot of years + now. Whoop ye!” he suddenly sang out, and fired his six-shooter at a + jack-rabbit, who strung himself out flat and flew over the earth. + </p> + <p> + Both dismounted at the parade-ground gate, and he kissed her again when + she was not looking, upon which she very properly slapped him; and he took + the horses to the stable. He sat down to tea at the hotel, and found the + meal consisted of black potatoes, gray tea, and a guttering dish of fat + pork. But his appetite was good, and he remarked to himself that inside + the first hour he was in Boston he would have steamed Duxbury clams. Of + Sabina he never thought again, and it is likely that she found others to + take his place. Fort Washakie was one hundred and fifty miles from the + railway, and men there were many and girls were few. + </p> + <p> + The next morning the other passengers entered the stage with resignation, + knowing the thirty-six hours of evil that lay before them. Lin climbed up + beside the driver. He had a new trunk now. + </p> + <p> + “Don't get full, Lin,” said the clerk, putting the mail-sacks in at the + store. + </p> + <p> + “My plans ain't settled that far yet,” replied Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + “Leave it out of them,” said the voice of the bishop, laughing, inside the + stage. + </p> + <p> + It was a cool, fine air. Gazing over the huge plain down in which lies + Fort Washakie, Lin heard the faint notes of the trumpet on the parade + ground, and took a good-bye look at all things. He watched the American + flag grow small, saw the circle of steam rising away down by the hot + springs, looked at the bad lands beyond, chemically pink and rose amid the + vast, natural, quiet-colored plain. Across the spreading distance Indians + trotted at wide spaces, generally two large bucks on one small pony, or a + squaw and pappoose—a bundle of parti-colored rags. Presiding over + the whole rose the mountains to the west, serene, lifting into the + clearest light. Then once again came the now tiny music of the trumpet. + </p> + <p> + “When do yu' figure on comin' back?” inquired the driver. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll just look around back there for a spell,” said Lin. “About a + month, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + He had seven hundred dollars. At Lander the horses are changed; and during + this operation Lin's friends gathered and said, where was any sense in + going to Boston when you could have a good time where you were? But Lin + remained sitting safe on the stage. Toward evening, at the bottom of a + little dry gulch some eight feet deep, the horses decided it was a + suitable place to stay. It was the bishop who persuaded them to change + their minds. He told the driver to give up beating, and unharness. Then + they were led up the bank, quivering, and a broken trace was spliced with + rope. Then the stage was forced on to the level ground, the bishop proving + a strong man, familiar with the gear of vehicles. They crossed through the + pass among the quaking asps and the pines, and, reaching Pacific Springs, + came down again into open country. That afternoon the stage put its + passengers down on the railroad platform at Green River; this was the + route in those days before the mid-winter catastrophes of frozen + passengers led to its abandonment. The bishop was going west. His robes + had passed him on the up stage during the night. When the reverend + gentleman heard this he was silent for a very short moment, and then + laughed vigorously in the baggage-room. + </p> + <p> + “I can understand how you swear sometimes,” he said to Lin McLean; “but I + can't, you see. Not even at this.” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher was checking his own trunk to Omaha. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye and good luck to you,” continued the bishop, giving his hand to + Lin. “And look here—don't you think you might leave that 'getting + full' out of your plans?” + </p> + <p> + Lin gave a slightly shamefaced grin. “I don't guess I can, sir,” he said. + “I'm givin' yu' straight goods, yu' see,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “That's right. But you look like a man who could stop when he'd had + enough. Try that. You're man enough—and come and see me whenever + we're in the same place.” + </p> + <p> + He went to the hotel. There were several hours for Lin to wait. He walked + up and down the platform till the stars came out and the bright lights of + the town shone in the saloon windows. Over across the way piano-music + sounded through one of the many open doors. + </p> + <p> + “Wonder if the professor's there yet?” said Lin, and he went across the + railroad tracks. The bartender nodded to him as he passed through into the + back room. In that place were many tables, and the flat clicking and + rattle of ivory counters sounded pleasantly through the music. Lin did not + join the stud-poker game. He stood over a table at which sat a dealer and + a player, very silent, opposite each other, and whereon were painted + sundry cards, numerals, and the colors red and black in squares. The + legend “Jacks pay” was also clearly painted. The player placed chips on + whichever insignia of fortune he chose, and the dealer slid cards (quite + fairly) from the top of a pack that lay held within a skeleton case made + with some clamped bands of tin. Sometimes the player's pile of chips rose + high, and sometimes his sumptuous pillar of gold pieces was lessened by + one. It was very interesting and pretty to see; Lin had much better have + joined the game of stud-poker. Presently the eye of the dealer met the eye + of the player. After that slight incident the player's chip pile began to + rise, and rose steadily, till the dealer made admiring comments on such a + run of luck. Then the player stopped, cashed in, and said good-night, + having nearly doubled the number of his gold pieces. + </p> + <p> + “Five dollars' worth,” said Lin, sitting down in the vacant seat. The + chips were counted out to him. He played with unimportant shiftings of + fortune until a short while before his train was due, and then, singularly + enough, he discovered he was one hundred and fifty dollars behind the + game. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll leave the train go without me,” said Lin, buying five + dollars' worth more of ivory counters. So that train came and went, + removing eastward Mr. McLean's trunk. + </p> + <p> + During the hour that followed his voice grew dogged and his remarks + briefer, as he continually purchased more chips from the now surprised and + sympathetic dealer. It was really wonderful how steadily Lin lost—just + as steadily as his predecessor had won after that meeting of eyes early in + the evening. + </p> + <p> + When Lin was three hundred dollars out, his voice began to clear of its + huskiness and a slight humor revolved and sparkled in his eye. When his + seven hundred dollars had gone to safer hands and he had nothing left at + all but some silver fractions of a dollar, his robust cheerfulness was all + back again. He walked out and stood among the railroad tracks with his + hands in his pockets, and laughed at himself in the dark. Then his fingers + came on the check for Omaha, and he laughed loudly. The trunk by this hour + must be nearing Rawlins; it was going east anyhow. + </p> + <p> + “I'm following it, you bet,” he declared, kicking the rail. “Not yet + though. Nor I'll not go to Washakie to have 'em josh me. And yonder lays + Boston.” He stretched his arm and pointed eastward. Had he seen another + man going on in this fashion alone in the dark, among side-tracked freight + cars, he would have pitied the poor fool. “And I guess Boston'll have to + get along without me for a spell, too,” continued Lin. “A man don't want + to show up plumb broke like that younger son did after eatin' with the + hogs the bishop told about. His father was a Jim-dandy, that hog chap's. + Hustled around and set 'em up when he come back home. Frank, he'd say to + me 'How do you do, brother?' and he'd be wearin' a good suit o' clothes + and—no, sir, you bet!” + </p> + <p> + Lin now watched the great headlight of a freight train bearing slowly down + into Green River from the wilderness. Green River is the end of a + division, an epoch in every train's journey. Lanterns swung signals, the + great dim thing slowed to its standstill by the coal chute, its locomotive + moved away for a turn of repose, the successor backed steaming to its + place to tackle a night's work. Cars were shifted, heavily bumping and + parting. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Lin!” A face was looking from the window of the caboose. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” responded Mr. McLean, perceiving above his head Honey Wiggin, a + good friend of his. They had not met for three years. + </p> + <p> + “They claimed you got killed somewheres. I was sorry to hear it.” Honey + offered his condolence quite sincerely. + </p> + <p> + “Bruck my leg,” corrected Lin, “if that's what they meant.” + </p> + <p> + “I expect that's it,” said Honey. “You've had no other trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “Been boomin',” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + From the mere undertone in their voices it was plain they were good + friends, carefully hiding their pleasure at meeting. + </p> + <p> + “Wher're yu' bound?” inquired Honey. + </p> + <p> + “East,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Better jump in here, then. We're goin' west.” + </p> + <p> + “That just suits me,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + The busy lanterns wagged among the switches, the steady lights of the + saloons shone along the town's wooden facade. From the bluffs that wall + Green River the sweet, clean sage-brush wind blew down in currents freshly + through the coal-smoke. A wrench passed through the train from locomotive + to caboose, each fettered car in turn strained into motion and slowly + rolled over the bridge and into silence from the steam and the bells of + the railroad yard. Through the open windows of the caboose great dull-red + cinders rattled in, and the whistles of distant Union Pacific locomotives + sounded over the open plains ominous and long, like ships at sea. + </p> + <p> + Honey and Lin sat for a while, making few observations and far between, as + their way is between whom flows a stream of old-time understanding. Mutual + whiskey and silence can express much friendship, and eloquently. + </p> + <p> + “What are yu' doing at present?” Lin inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Prospectin'.” + </p> + <p> + Now prospecting means hunting gold, except to such spirits as the boy Lin. + To these it means finding gold. So Lin McLean listened to the talk of his + friend Honey Wiggin as the caboose trundled through the night. He saw + himself in a vision of the near future enter a bank and thump down a bag + of gold-dust. Then he saw the new, clean money the man would hand him in + exchange, bills with round zeroes half covered by being folded over, and + heavy, satisfactory gold pieces. And then he saw the blue water that + twinkles beneath Boston. His fingers came again on his trunk check. He had + his ticket, too. And as dawn now revealed the gray country to him, his eye + fell casually upon a mile-post: “Omaha, 876.” He began to watch for them:—877, + 878. But the trunk would really get to Omaha. + </p> + <p> + “What are yu' laughin' about?” asked Honey. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the wheels.” + </p> + <p> + “Wheels?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't yu' hear 'em?” said Lin. “'Variety,' they keep a-sayin'. 'Variety, + variety.'” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” said Honey, with scorn. “'Ker-chunka-chunk' 's all I make it.” + </p> + <p> + “You're no poet,” observed Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + As the train moved into Evanston in the sunlight, a gleam of dismay shot + over Lin's face, and he ducked his head out of sight of the window, but + immediately raised it again. Then he leaned out, waving his arm with a + certain defiant vigor. But the bishop on the platform failed to notice + this performance, though it was done for his sole benefit, nor would Lin + explain to the inquisitive Wiggin what the matter was. Therefore, very + naturally, Honey drew a conclusion for himself, looked quickly out of the + window, and, being disappointed in what he expected to see remarked, + sulkily, “Do yu' figure I care what sort of a lookin' girl is stuck on yu' + in Evanston?” And upon this young Lin laughed so loudly that his friend + told him he had never seen a man get so foolish in three years. + </p> + <p> + By-and-by they were in Utah, and, in the company of Ogden friends, forgot + prospecting. Later they resumed freight trains and journeyed north In + Idaho they said good-bye to the train hands in the caboose, and came to + Little Camas, and so among the mountains near Feather Creek. Here the + berries were of several sorts, and growing riper each day, and the bears + in the timber above knew this, and came down punctually with the season, + making variety in the otherwise even life of the prospectors. It was now + August, and Lin sat on a wet hill making mud-pies for sixty days. But the + philosopher's stone was not in the wash at that placer, nor did Lin gather + gold-dust sufficient to cover the nail of his thumb. Then they heard of an + excitement at Obo, Nevada, and, hurrying to Obo, they made some more + mud-pies. + </p> + <p> + Now and then, eating their fat bacon at noon, Honey would say, “Lin, + wher're yu' goin'?” + </p> + <p> + And Lin always replied, “East.” This became a signal for drinks. + </p> + <p> + For beauty and promise, Nevada is a name among names. Nevada! Pronounce + the word aloud. Does it not evoke mountains and clear air, heights of + untrodden snow and valleys aromatic with the pine and musical with falling + waters? Nevada! But the name is all. Abomination of desolation presides + over nine-tenths of the place. The sun beats down as on a roof of zinc, + fierce and dull. Not a drop of water to a mile of sand. The mean ash-dump + landscape stretches on from nowhere to nowhere, a spot of mange. No + portion of the earth is more lacquered with paltry, unimportant ugliness. + </p> + <p> + There is gold in Nevada, but Lin and Honey did not find it. Prospecting of + the sort they did, besides proving unfruitful, is not comfortable. Now and + again, losing patience, Lin would leave his work and stalk about and gaze + down at the scattered men who stooped or knelt in the water. Passing each + busy prospector, Lin would read on every broad, upturned pair of overalls + the same label, “Levi Strauss, No. 2,” with a picture of two lusty horses + hitched to one of these garments and vainly struggling to split them + asunder. Lin remembered he was wearing a label just like that too, and + when he considered all things he laughed to himself. Then, having + stretched the ache out of his long legs, he would return to his ditch. As + autumn wore on, his feet grew cold in the mushy gravel they were sunk in. + He beat off the sand that had stiffened on his boots, and hated Obo, + Nevada. But he held himself ready to say “East” whenever he saw Honey + coming along with the bottle. The cold weather put an end to this + adventure. The ditches froze and filled with snow, through which the + sordid gravel heaps showed in a dreary fashion; so the two friends drifted + southward. + </p> + <p> + Near the small new town of Mesa, Arizona, they sat down again in the dirt. + It was milder here, and, when the sun shone, never quite froze. But this + part of Arizona is scarcely more grateful to the eye than Nevada. + Moreover, Lin and Honey found no gold at all. Some men near them found a + little. Then in January, even though the sun shone, it quite froze one + day. + </p> + <p> + “We're seein' the country, anyway,” said Honey. + </p> + <p> + “Seein' hell,” said Lin, “and there's more of it above ground than I + thought.” + </p> + <p> + “What'll we do?” Honey inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Have to walk for a job—a good-payin' job,” responded the hopeful + cow-puncher. And he and Honey went to town. + </p> + <p> + Lin found a job in twenty-five minutes, becoming assistant to the + apothecary in Mesa. Established at the drug-store, he made up the simpler + prescriptions. He had studied practical pharmacy in Boston between the + ages of thirteen and fifteen, and, besides this qualification, the + apothecary had seen him when he first came into Mesa, and liked him. Lin + made no mistakes that he or any one ever knew of; and, as the mild weather + began, he materially increased the apothecary's business by persuading him + to send East for a soda-water fountain. The ladies of the town clustered + around this entertaining novelty, and while sipping vanilla and lemon + bought knickknacks. And the gentlemen of the town discovered that whiskey + with soda and strawberry syrup was delicious, and produced just as + competent effects. A group of them were generally standing in the shop and + shaking dice to decide who should pay for the next, while Lin administered + to each glass the necessary ingredients. Thus money began to come to him a + little more steadily than had been its wont, and he divided with the + penniless Honey. + </p> + <p> + But Honey found fortune quickly, too. Through excellent card-playing he + won a pinto from a small Mexican horse-thief who came into town from the + South, and who cried bitterly when he delivered up his pet pony to the new + owner. The new owner, being a man of the world and agile on his feet, was + only slightly stabbed that evening as he walked to the dance-hall at the + edge of the town. The Mexican was buried on the next day but one. + </p> + <p> + The pony stood thirteen two, and was as long as a steamboat. He had white + eyelashes, pink nostrils, and one eye was bright blue. If you spoke + pleasantly to him, he rose instantly on his hind-legs and tried to beat + your face. He did not look as if he could run, and that was what made him + so valuable. Honey travelled through the country with him, and every + gentleman who saw the pinto and heard Honey became anxious to get up a + race. Lin always sent money for Wiggin to place, and he soon opened a bank + account, while Honey, besides his racing-bridle, bought a silver-inlaid + one, a pair of forty-dollar spurs, and a beautiful saddle richly stamped. + Every day (when in Mesa) Honey would step into the drug-store and inquire, + “Lin, wher're yu' goin'?” + </p> + <p> + But Lin never answered any more. He merely came to the soda-water fountain + with the whiskey. The passing of days brought a choked season of fine sand + and hard blazing sky. Heat rose up from the ground and hung heavily over + man and beast. Many insects sat out in the sun rattling with joy; the + little tearing river grew clear from the swollen mud, and shrank to a + succession of standing pools; and the fat, squatting cactus bloomed + everywhere into butter-colored flowers big as tulips in the sand. There + were artesian wells in Mesa, and the water did not taste very good; but if + you drank from the standing pools where the river had been, you repaired + to the drug-store almost immediately. A troop of wandering players came + dotting along the railroad, and, reaching Mesa, played a brass-band up and + down the street, and announced the powerful drama of “East Lynne.” Then + Mr. McLean thought of the Lynn marshes that lie between there and Chelsea, + and of the sea that must look so cool. He forgot them while following the + painful fortunes of the Lady Isabel; but, going to bed in the back part of + the drug-store, he remembered how he used to beat everybody swimming in + the salt water. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin',” he said. Then he got up, and, striking the light, he + inspected his bank account. “I'm sure goin',” he repeated, blowing the + light out, “and I can buy the fatted calf myself, you bet!” for he had + often thought of the bishop's story. “You bet!” he remarked once more in a + muffled voice, and was asleep in a minute. The apothecary was sorry to + have him go, and Honey was deeply grieved. + </p> + <p> + “I'd pull out with yer,” he said, “only I can do business round Yuma and + westward with the pinto.” + </p> + <p> + For three farewell days Lin and Honey roved together in all sorts of + places, where they were welcome, and once more Lin rode a horse and was in + his native element. Then he travelled to Deming, and so through Denver to + Omaha, where he was told that his trunk had been sold for some months. + Besides a suit of clothes for town wear, it had contained a buffalo coat + for his brother—something scarce to see in these days. + </p> + <p> + “Frank'll have to get along without it,” he observed, philosophically, and + took the next eastbound train. + </p> + <p> + If you journey in a Pullman from Mesa to Omaha without a waistcoat, and + with a silk handkerchief knotted over the collar of your flannel shirt + instead of a tie, wearing, besides, tall, high-heeled boots, a soft, gray + hat with a splendid brim, a few people will notice you, but not the + majority. New Mexico and Colorado are used to these things. As Iowa, with + its immense rolling grain, encompasses you, people will stare a little + more, for you're getting near the East, where cow-punchers are not + understood. But in those days the line of cleavage came sharp-drawn at + Chicago. West of there was still tolerably west, but east of there was + east indeed, and the Atlantic Ocean was the next important stopping-place. + In Lin's new train, good gloves, patent-leathers, and silence prevailed + throughout the sleeping-car, which was for Boston without change. Had not + home memories begun impetuously to flood his mind, he would have felt + himself conspicuous. Town clothes and conventions had their due value with + him. But just now the boy's single-hearted thoughts were far from any + surroundings, and he was murmuring to himself, “To-morrow! tomorrow + night!” + </p> + <p> + There were ladies in that blue plush car for Boston who looked at Lin for + thirty miles at a stretch; and by the time Albany was reached the next day + one or two of them commented that he was the most attractive-looking man + they had ever seen! Whereas, beyond his tallness, and wide-open, jocular + eyes, eyes that seemed those of a not highly conscientious wild animal, + there was nothing remarkable about young Lin except stage effect. The + conductor had been annoyed to have such a passenger; but the cow-puncher + troubled no one, and was extremely silent. So evidently was he a piece of + the true frontier that curious and hopeful fellow-passengers, after + watching him with diversion, more than once took a seat next to him. He + met their chatty inquiries with monosyllables so few and so unprofitable + in their quiet politeness that the passengers soon gave him up. At + Springfield he sent a telegram to his brother at the great dry-goods + establishment that employed him. + </p> + <p> + The train began its homestretch after Worcester, and whirled and swung by + hills and ponds he began to watch for, and through stations with old + wayside names. These flashed on Lin's eye as he sat with his hat off and + his forehead against the window, looking: Wellesley. Then, not long after, + Riverside. That was the Charles River, and did the picnic woods used to be + above the bridge or below? West Newton; Newtonville; Newton. “Faneuil's + next,” he said aloud in the car, as the long-forgotten home-knowledge + shone forth in his recollection. The traveller seated near said, “Beg + pardon?” but, turning, wondered at the all-unconscious Lin, with his + forehead pressed against the glass. The blue water flashed into sight, and + soon after they were running in the darkness between high walls; but the + cow-puncher never moved, though nothing could be seen. When the porter + announced “Boston,” he started up and followed like a sheep in the general + exodus. Down on the platform he moved along with the slow crowd till some + one touched him, and, wheeling round, he seized both his brother's hands + and swore a good oath of joy. + </p> + <p> + There they stood—the long, brown fellow with the silk handkerchief + knotted over his flannel shirt, greeting tremendously the spruce civilian, + who had a rope-colored mustache and bore a fainthearted resemblance to + him. The story was plain on its face to the passers-by; and one of the + ladies who had come in the car with Lin turned twice, and smiled gently to + herself. + </p> + <p> + But Frank McLean's heart did not warm. He felt that what he had been + afraid of was true; and he saw he was being made conspicuous. He saw men + and women stare in the station, and he saw them staring as he and his + Western brother went through the streets. Lin strode along, sniffing the + air of Boston, looking at all things, and making it a stretch for his + sleek companion to keep step with him. Frank thought of the refined + friends he should have to introduce his brother to; for he had risen with + his salary, and now belonged to a small club where the paying-tellers of + banks played cards every night, and the head clerk at the Parker House was + president. Perhaps he should not have to reveal the cow-puncher to these + shining ones. Perhaps the cow-puncher would not stay very long. Of course + he was glad to see him again, and he would take him to dine at some + obscure place this first evening. But this was not Lin's plan. Frank must + dine with him, at the Parker House. Frank demurred, saying it was he that + should be host. + </p> + <p> + “And,” he added, “they charge up high for wines at Parker's.” Then for the + twentieth time he shifted a sidelong eye over his brother's clothes. + </p> + <p> + “You're goin' to take your grub with me,” said Lin. “That's all right, I + guess. And there ain't any 'no' about it. Things is not the same like as + if father was livin'—(his voice softened)—and here to see me + come home. Now I'm good for several dinners with wines charged up high, I + expect, nor it ain't nobody in this world, barrin' just Lin McLean, that + I've any need to ask for anything. 'Mr. McLean,' says I to Lin, 'can yu' + spare me some cash?' 'Why, to be sure, you bet!' And we'll start off with + steamed Duxbury clams.” The cow-puncher slapped his pocket, where the coin + made a muffled chinking. Then he said, gruffly, “I suppose Swampscott's + there yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Frank. “It's a dead little town, is Swampscott.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll take a look at the old house tomorrow,” Lin pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's been pulled down since—I forget the year they improved + that block.” + </p> + <p> + Lin regarded in silence his brother, who was speaking so jauntily of the + first and last home they had ever had. + </p> + <p> + “Seventy-nine is when it was,” continued Frank. “So you can save the + trouble of travelling away down to Swampscott.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll go to the graveyard, anyway,” said the cow-puncher in his + offish voice, and looking fixedly in front of him. + </p> + <p> + They came into Washington Street, and again the elder McLean uneasily + surveyed the younger's appearance. + </p> + <p> + But the momentary chill had melted from the heart of the genial Lin. + “After to-morrow,” said he, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder, “yu' + can start any lead yu' please, and I guess I can stay with yu' pretty + close, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + Frank said nothing. He saw one of the members of his club on the other + side of the way, and the member saw him, and Frank caught diverted + amazement on the member's face. Lin's hand weighed on his shoulder, and + the stress became too great. “Lin,” said he, “while you're running with + our crowd, you don't want to wear that style of hat, you know.” + </p> + <p> + It may be that such words can in some way be spoken at such a time, but + not in the way that these were said. The frozen fact was irrevocably + revealed in the tone of Frank's voice. + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher stopped dead short, and his hand slid off his brother's + shoulder. “You've made it plain,” he said, evenly, slanting his steady + eyes down into Frank's. “You've explained yourself fairly well. Run along + with your crowd, and I'll not bother yu' more with comin' round and + causin' yu' to feel ashamed. It's a heap better to understand these things + at once, and save making a fool of yourself any longer 'n yu' need to. I + guess there ain't no more to be said, only one thing. If yu' see me around + on the street, don't yu' try any talk, for I'd be liable to close your jaw + up, and maybe yu'd have more of a job explainin' that to your crowd than + you've had makin' me see what kind of a man I've got for a brother.” + </p> + <p> + Frank found himself standing alone before any reply to these sentences had + occurred to him. He walked slowly to his club, where a friend joked him on + his glumness. + </p> + <p> + Lin made a sore failure of amusing himself that night; and in the bright, + hot morning he got into the train for Swampscott. At the graveyard he saw + a woman lay a bunch of flowers on a mound and kneel, weeping. + </p> + <p> + “There ain't nobody to do that for this one,” thought the cow-puncher, and + looked down at the grave he had come to see, then absently gazed at the + woman. + </p> + <p> + She had stolen away from her daily life to come here where her grief was + shrined, and now her heart found it hard to bid the lonely place goodbye. + So she lingered long, her thoughts sunk deep in the motionless past. When + she at last looked up, she saw the tall, strange man re-enter from the + street among the tombs, and deposit on one of them an ungainly lump of + flowers. They were what Lin had been able hastily to buy in Swampscott. He + spread them gently as he had noticed the woman do, but her act of kneeling + he did not imitate. He went away quickly. For some hours he hung about the + little town, aimlessly loitering, watching the salt water where he used to + swim. + </p> + <p> + “Yu' don't belong any more, Lin,” he miserably said at length, and took + his way to Boston. + </p> + <p> + The next morning, determined to see the sights, he was in New York, and + drifted about to all places night and day, till his money was mostly gone, + and nothing to show for it but a somewhat pleasure-beaten face and a deep + hatred of the crowded, scrambling East. So he suddenly bought a ticket for + Green River, Wyoming, and escaped from the city that seemed to numb his + good humor. + </p> + <p> + When, after three days, the Missouri lay behind him and his holiday, he + stretched his legs and took heart to see out of the window the signs of + approaching desolation. And when on the fourth day civilization was + utterly emptied out of the world, he saw a bunch of cattle, and, galloping + among them, his spurred and booted kindred. And his manner took on that + alertness a horse shows on turning into the home road. As the stage took + him toward Washakie, old friends turned up every fifty miles or so, + shambling out of a cabin or a stable, and saying, in casual tones, “Hello, + Lin, where've you been at?” + </p> + <p> + At Lander, there got into the stage another old acquaintance, the Bishop + of Wyoming. He knew Lin at once, and held out his hand, and his greeting + was hearty. + </p> + <p> + “It took a week for my robes to catch up with me,” he said, laughing. + Then, in a little while, “How was the East?” + </p> + <p> + “First-rate,” said Lin, not looking at him. He was shy of the + conversation's taking a moral turn. But the bishop had no intention of + reverting—at any rate, just now—to their last talk at Green + River, and the advice he had then given. + </p> + <p> + “I trust your friends were all well?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I guess they was healthy enough,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you found Boston much changed? It's a beautiful city.” + </p> + <p> + “Good enough town for them that likes it, I expect,” Lin replied. + </p> + <p> + The bishop was forming a notion of what the matter must be, but he had no + notion whatever of what now revealed itself. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bishop,” the cow-puncher said, “how was that about that fellow you + told about that's in the Bible somewheres?—he come home to his + folks, and they—well there was his father saw him comin'”—He + stopped, embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + Then the bishop remembered the wide-open eyes, and how he had noticed them + in the church at the agency intently watching him. And, just now, what + were best to say he did not know. He looked at the young man gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Have yu' got a Bible?” pursued Lin. “For, excuse me, but I'd like yu' to + read that onced.” + </p> + <p> + So the bishop read, and Lin listened. And all the while this good + clergyman was perplexed how to speak—or if indeed to speak at this + time at all—to the heart of the man beside him for whom the parable + had gone so sorely wrong. When the reading was done, Lin had not taken his + eyes from the bishop's face. + </p> + <p> + “How long has that there been wrote?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + He was told about how long. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bishop,” said Lin, “I ain't got good knowledge of the Bible, and I + never figured it to be a book much on to facts. And I tell you I'm more + plumb beat about it's having that elder brother, and him being angry, down + in black and white two thousand years ago, than—than if I'd seen a + man turn water into wine, for I'd have knowed that ain't so. But the elder + brother is facts—dead-sure facts. And they knowed about that, and + put it down just the same as life two thousand years ago!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the bishop, wisely ignoring the challenge as to miracles, “I + am a good twenty years older than you, and all that time I've been finding + more facts in the Bible every day I have lived.” + </p> + <p> + Lin meditated. “I guess that could be,” he said. “Yes; after that yu've + been a-readin', and what I know for myself that I didn't know till lately, + I guess that could be.” + </p> + <p> + Then the bishop talked with exceeding care, nor did he ask uncomfortable + things, or moralize visibly. Thus he came to hear how it had fared with + Lin his friend, and Lin forgot altogether about its being a parson he was + delivering the fulness of his heart to. “And come to think,” he concluded, + “it weren't home I had went to back East, layin' round them big cities, + where a man can't help but feel strange all the week. No, sir! Yu' can + blow in a thousand dollars like I did in New York, and it'll not give yu' + any more home feelin' than what cattle has put in a stock-yard. Nor it + wouldn't have in Boston neither. Now this country here” (he waved his hand + towards the endless sage-brush), “seein' it onced more, I know where my + home is, and I wouldn't live nowheres else. Only I ain't got no father + watching for me to come up Wind River.” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher stated this merely as a fact, and without any note of + self-pity. But the bishops face grew very tender, and he looked away from + Lin. Knowing his man—for had he not seen many of this kind in his + desert diocese?—he forbore to make any text from that last sentence + the cow-puncher had spoken. Lin talked cheerfully on about what he should + now do. The round-up must be somewhere near Du Noir Creek. He would join + it this season, but next he should work over to the Powder River country. + More business was over there, and better chances for a man to take up some + land and have a ranch of his own. As they got out at Fort Washakie, the + bishop handed him a small book, in which he had turned several leaves + down, carefully avoiding any page that related of miracles. + </p> + <p> + “You need not read it through, you know,” he said, smiling; “just read + where I have marked, and see if you don't find some more facts. Goodbye—and + always come and see me.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning he watched Lin riding slowly out of the post towards Wind + River, leading a single pack-horse. By-and-by the little moving dot went + over the ridge. And as the bishop walked back into the parade-ground, + thinking over the possibilities in that untrained manly soul, he shook his + head sorrowfully. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WINNING OF THE BISCUIT-SHOOTER + </h2> + <p> + It was quite clear to me that Mr. McLean could not know the news. Meeting + him to-day had been unforeseen—unforeseen and so pleasant that the + thing had never come into my head until just now, after both of us had + talked and dined our fill, and were torpid with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + I had found Lin here at Riverside in the morning. At my horse's approach + to the cabin, it was he and not the postmaster who had come precipitately + out of the door. + </p> + <p> + “I'm turruble pleased to see yu',” he had said, immediately. + </p> + <p> + “What's happened?” said I, in some concern at his appearance. + </p> + <p> + And he piteously explained: “Why, I've been here all alone since + yesterday!” + </p> + <p> + This was indeed all; and my hasty impressions of shooting and a corpse + gave way to mirth over the child and his innocent grievance that he had + blurted out before I could get off my horse. + </p> + <p> + Since when, I inquired of him, had his own company become such a shock to + him? + </p> + <p> + “As to that,” replied Mr. McLean, a thought ruffled, “when a man expects + lonesomeness he stands it like he stands anything else, of course. But + when he has figured on finding company—say—” he broke off (and + vindictiveness sparkled in his eye)—“when you're lucky enough to + catch yourself alone, why, I suppose yu' just take a chair and chat to + yourself for hours.—You've not seen anything of Tommy?” he pursued + with interest. + </p> + <p> + I had not; and forthwith Lin poured out to me the pent-up complaints and + sociability with which he was bursting. The foreman had sent him over here + with a sackful of letters for the post, and to bring back the week's mail + for the ranch. A day was gone now, and nothing for a man to do but sit and + sit. Tommy was overdue fifteen hours. Well, you could have endured that, + but the neighbors had all locked their cabins and gone to Buffalo. It was + circus week in Buffalo. Had I ever considered the money there must be in + the circus business? Tommy had taken the outgoing letters early yesterday. + Nobody had kept him waiting. By all rules he should have been back again + last night. Maybe the stage was late reaching Powder River, and Tommy had + had to lay over for it. Well, that would justify him. Far more likely he + had gone to the circus himself and taken the mail with him. Tommy was no + type of man for postmaster. Except drawing the allowance his mother in the + East gave him first of every month, he had never shown punctuality that + Lin could remember. Never had any second thoughts, and awful few first + ones. Told bigger lies than a small man ought, also. + </p> + <p> + “Has successes, though,” said I, wickedly. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” went on Mr. McLean. “Successes! One ice-cream-soda success. And + she”—Lin's still wounded male pride made him plaintive—“why, + even that girl quit him, once she got the chance to appreciate how + insignificant he was as compared with the size of his words. No, sir. Not + one of 'em retains interest in Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + Lin was unsaddling and looking after my horse, just because he was glad to + see me. Since our first acquaintance, that memorable summer of Pitchstone + Canyon when he had taken such good care of me and such bad care of + himself, I had learned pretty well about horses and camp craft in general. + He was an entire boy then. But he had been East since, East by a route of + his own discovering—and from his account of that journey it had + proved, I think, a sort of spiritual experience. And then the years of our + friendship were beginning to roll up. Manhood of the body he had always + richly possessed; and now, whenever we met after a season's absence and + spoke those invariable words which all old friends upon this earth use to + each other at meeting—“You haven't changed, you haven't changed at + all!”—I would wonder if manhood had arrived in Lin's boy soul. And + so to-day, while he attended to my horse and explained the nature of Tommy + (a subject he dearly loved just now), I looked at him and took an + intimate, superior pride in feeling how much more mature I was than he, + after all. + </p> + <p> + There's nothing like a sense of merit for making one feel aggrieved, and + on our return to the cabin Mr. McLean pointed with disgust to some + firewood. + </p> + <p> + “Look at those sorrowful toothpicks,” said he: “Tommy's work.” + </p> + <p> + So Lin, the excellent hearted, had angrily busied himself, and chopped a + pile of real logs that would last a week. He had also cleaned the stove, + and nailed up the bed, the pillow-end of which was on the floor. It + appeared the master of the house had been sleeping in it the reverse way + on account of the slant. Thus had Lin cooked and dined alone, supped + alone, and sat over some old newspapers until bed-time alone with his + sense of virtue. And now here it was long after breakfast, and no Tommy + yet. + </p> + <p> + “It's good yu' come this forenoon,” Lin said to me. “I'd not have had the + heart to get up another dinner just for myself. Let's eat rich!” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, we had richly eaten, Lin and I. He had gone out among the + sheds and caught some eggs (that is how he spoke of it), we had opened a + number of things in cans, and I had made my famous dish of evaporated + apricots, in which I managed to fling a suspicion of caramel throughout + the stew. + </p> + <p> + “Tommy'll be hot about these,” said Lin, joyfully, as we ate the eggs. “He + don't mind what yu' use of his canned goods—pickled salmon and + truck. He is hospitable all right enough till it comes to an egg. Then + he'll tell any lie. But shucks! Yu' can read Tommy right through his + clothing. 'Make yourself at home, Lin,' says he, yesterday. And he showed + me his fresh milk and his stuff. 'Here's a new ham,' says he; 'too bad my + damned hens ain't been layin'. The sons-o'guns have quit on me ever since + Christmas.' And away he goes to Powder River for the mail. 'You swore too + heavy about them hens,' thinks I. Well, I expect he may have travelled + half a mile by the time I'd found four nests.” + </p> + <p> + I am fond of eggs, and eat them constantly—and in Wyoming they were + always a luxury. But I never forget those that day, and how Lin and I + enjoyed them thinking of Tommy. Perhaps manhood was not quite established + in my own soul at that time—and perhaps that is the reason why it is + the only time I have ever known which I would live over again, those years + when people said, “You are old enough to know better”—and one didn't + care! + </p> + <p> + Salmon, apricots, eggs, we dealt with them all properly, and I had some + cigars. It was now that the news came back into my head. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of—” I began, and stopped. + </p> + <p> + I spoke out of a long silence, the slack, luxurious silence of digestion. + I got no answer, naturally, from the torpid Lin, and then it occurred to + me that he would have asked me what I thought, long before this, had he + known. So, observing how comfortable he was, I began differently. + </p> + <p> + “What is the most important event that can happen in this country?” said + I. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean heard me where he lay along the floor of the cabin on his back, + dozing by the fire; but his eyes remained closed. He waggled one limp, + open hand slightly at me, and torpor resumed her dominion over him. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know what you consider the most important event that can happen + in this country,” said I, again, enunciating each word with slow + clearness. + </p> + <p> + The throat and lips of Mr. McLean moved, and a sulky sound came forth that + I recognized to be meant for the word “War.” Then he rolled over so that + his face was away from me, and put an arm over his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean country in the sense of United States,” said I. “I mean this + country here, and Bear Creek, and—well, the ranches southward for + fifty miles, say. Important to this section.” + </p> + <p> + “Mosquitoes'll be due in about three weeks,” said Lin. “Yu' might leave a + man rest till then.” + </p> + <p> + “I want your opinion,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, misery! Well, a raise in the price of steers.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Yu' said yu' wanted my opinion,” said Lin. “Seems like yu' merely figure + on givin' me yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said I. “Very well, then.” + </p> + <p> + I took up a copy of the Cheyenne Sun. It was five weeks old, and I soon + perceived that I had read it three weeks ago; but I read it again for some + minutes now. + </p> + <p> + “I expect a railroad would be more important,” said Mr. McLean, + persuasively, from the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Than a rise in steers?” said I, occupied with the Cheyenne Sun. “Oh yes. + Yes, a railroad certainly would.” + </p> + <p> + “It's got to be money, anyhow,” stated Lin, thoroughly wakened. “Money in + some shape.” + </p> + <p> + “How little you understand the real wants of the country!” said I, coming + to the point. “It's a girl.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean lay quite still on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “A girl,” I repeated. “A new girl coming to this starved country.” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher took a long, gradual stretch and began to smile. “Well,” + said he, “yu' caught me—if that's much to do when a man is + half-witted with dinner and sleep.” He closed his eyes again and lay with + a specious expression of indifference. But that sort of thing is a + solitary entertainment, and palls. “Starved,” he presently muttered. “We + are kind o' starved that way I'll admit. More dollars than girls to the + square mile. And to think of all of us nice, healthy, young—bet yu' + I know who she is!” he triumphantly cried. He had sat up and levelled a + finger at me with the throw-down jerk of a marksman. “Sidney, Nebraska.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. This was not the lady's name—he could not recall her name—but + his geography of her was accurate. + </p> + <p> + One day in February my friend, Mrs. Taylor over on Bear Creek, had + received a letter—no common event for her. Therefore, during several + days she had all callers read it just as naturally as she had them all see + the new baby, and baby and letter had both been brought out for me. The + letter was signed, + </p> + <p> + “Ever your afectionite frend. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Katie Peck,” + </pre> + <p> + and was not easy to read, here and there. But you could piece out the + drift of it, and there was Mrs. Taylor by your side, eager to help you + when you stumbled. Miss Peck wrote that she was overworked in Sidney, + Nebraska, and needed a holiday. When the weather grew warm she should like + to come to Bear Creek and be like old times. “Like to come and be like old + times” filled Mrs. Taylor with sentiment and the cow-punchers with + expectation. But it is a long way from February to warm weather on Bear + Creek, and even cow-punchers will forget about a new girl if she does not + come. For several weeks I had not heard Miss Peck mentioned, and old girls + had to do. Yesterday, however, when I paid a visit to Miss Molly Wood (the + Bear Creek schoolmistress), I found her keeping in order the cabin and the + children of the Taylors, while they were gone forty-five miles to the + stage station to meet their guest. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Lin, judicially, “Miss Wood is a lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I, with deep gravity. For I was thinking of an occasion when + Mr. McLean had discovered that truth somewhat abruptly. + </p> + <p> + Lin thoughtfully continued. “She is—she's—she's—what are + you laughin' at?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. You don't see quite so much of Miss Wood as you used to, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! So that's got around. Well, o' course I'd ought t've knowed better, + I suppose. All the same, there's lots and lots of girls do like gettin' + kissed against their wishes—and you know it.” + </p> + <p> + “But the point would rather seem to be that she—” + </p> + <p> + “Would rather seem! Don't yu' start that professor style o' yours, or I'll—I'll + talk more wickedness in worse language than ever yu've heard me do yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” I murmured, sweetly, and Master Lin went on. + </p> + <p> + “As to point—that don't need to be explained to me. She's a lady all + right.” He ruminated for a moment. “She has about scared all the boys off, + though,” he continued. “And that's what you get by being refined,” he + concluded, as if Providence had at length spoken in this matter. + </p> + <p> + “She has not scared off a boy from Virginia, I notice,” said I. “He was + there yesterday afternoon again. Ridden all the way over from Sunk Creek. + Didn't seem particularly frightened.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, nothin' alarms him—not even refinement,” said Mr. McLean, + with his grin. “And she'll fool your Virginian like she done the balance + of us. You wait. Shucks! If all the girls were that chilly, why, what + would us poor punchers do?” + </p> + <p> + “You have me cornered,” said I, and we sat in a philosophical silence, Lin + on the floor still, and I at the window. There I looked out upon a scene + my eyes never tired of then, nor can my memory now. Spring had passed over + it with its first, lightest steps. The pastured levels undulated in + emerald. Through the many-changing sage, that just this moment of to-day + was lilac, shone greens scarce a week old in the dimples of the + foot-hills; and greens new-born beneath today's sun melted among them. + Around the doubling of the creek in the willow thickets glimmered skeined + veils of yellow and delicate crimson. The stream poured turbulently away + from the snows of the mountains behind us. It went winding in many folds + across the meadows into distance and smallness, and so vanished round the + great red battlement of wall beyond. Upon this were falling the deep hues + of afternoon—violet, rose, and saffron, swimming and meeting as if + some prism had dissolved and flowed over the turrets and crevices of the + sandstone. Far over there I saw a dot move. + </p> + <p> + “At last!” said I. + </p> + <p> + Lin looked out of the window. “It's more than Tommy,” said he, at once; + and his eyes made it out before mine could. “It's a wagon. That's Tommy's + bald-faced horse alongside. He's fooling to the finish,” Lin severely + commented, as if, after all this delay, there should at least be a + homestretch. + </p> + <p> + Presently, however, a homestretch seemed likely to occur. The bald-faced + horse executed some lively manoeuvres, and Tommy's voice reached us + faintly through the light spring air. He was evidently howling the + remarkable strain of yells that the cow-punchers invented as the speech + best understood by cows—“Oi-ee, yah, whoop-yahye-ee, oooo-oop, oop, + oop-oop-oop-oop-yah-hee!” But that gives you no idea of it. Alphabets are + worse than photographs. It is not the lungs of every man that can produce + these effects, nor even from armies, eagles, or mules were such sounds + ever heard on earth. The cow-puncher invented them. And when the last + cow-puncher is laid to rest (if that, alas! have not already befallen) the + yells will be forever gone. Singularly enough, the cattle appeared to + appreciate them. Tommy always did them very badly, and that was plain even + at this distance. Nor did he give us a homestretch, after all. The + bald-faced horse made a number of evolutions and returned beside the + wagon. + </p> + <p> + “Showin' off,” remarked Lin. “Tommy's showin' off.” Suspicion crossed his + face, and then certainty. “Why, we might have knowed that!” he exclaimed, + in dudgeon. “It's her.” He hastened outside for a better look, and I came + to the door myself. “That's what it is,” said he. “It's the girl. Oh yes. + That's Taylor's buckskin pair he traded Balaam for. She come by the stage + all right yesterday, yu' see, but she has been too tired to travel, yu' + see, or else, maybe, Taylor wanted to rest his buckskins—they're + four-year-olds. Or else—anyway, they laid over last night at Powder + River, and Tommy he has just laid over too, yu' see, holdin' the mail back + on us twenty-four hours—and that's your postmaster!” + </p> + <p> + It was our postmaster, and this he had done, quite as the virtuously + indignant McLean surmised. Had I taken the same interest in the new girl, + I suppose that I too should have felt virtuously indignant. + </p> + <p> + Lin and I stood outside to receive the travellers. As their cavalcade drew + near, Mr. McLean grew silent and watchful, his whole attention focused + upon the Taylors' vehicle. Its approach was joyous. Its gear made a + cheerful clanking, Taylor cracked his whip and encouragingly chirruped to + his buckskins, and Tommy's apparatus jingled musically. For Tommy wore + upon himself and his saddle all the things you can wear in the Wild West. + Except that his hair was not long, our postmaster might have conducted a + show and minted gold by exhibiting his romantic person before the eyes of + princes. He began with a black-and-yellow rattlesnake skin for a hat-band, + he continued with a fringed and beaded shirt of buckskin, and concluded + with large, tinkling spurs. Of course, there were things between his shirt + and his heels, but all leather and deadly weapons. He had also a riata, a + cuerta, and tapaderos, and frequently employed these Spanish names for the + objects. I wish that I had not lost Tommy's photograph in Rocky Mountain + costume. You must understand that he was really pretty, with blue eyes, + ruddy cheeks, and a graceful figure; and, besides, he had twenty-four + hours' start of poor dusty Lin, whose best clothes were elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + You might have supposed that it would be Mrs. Taylor who should present us + to her friend from Sidney, Nebraska; but Tommy on his horse undertook the + office before the wagon had well come to a standstill. “Good friends of + mine, and gentlemen, both,” said he to Miss Peck; and to us, “A lady whose + acquaintance will prove a treat to our section.” + </p> + <p> + We all bowed at each other beneath the florid expanse of these + recommendations, and I was proceeding to murmur something about its being + a long journey and a fine day when Miss Peck cut me short, gaily: + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she exclaimed to Tommy, “I guess I'm pretty near ready for them + eggs you've spoke so much about.” + </p> + <p> + I have not often seen Mr. McLean lose his presence of mind. He needed + merely to exclaim, “Why, Tommy, you told me your hens had not been laying + since Christmas!” and we could have sat quiet and let Tommy try to find + all the eggs that he could. But the new girl was a sore embarrassment to + the cow-puncher's wits. Poor Lin stood by the wheels of the wagon. He + looked up at Miss Peck, he looked over at Tommy, his features assumed a + rueful expression, and he wretchedly blurted, + </p> + <p> + “Why, Tommy, I've been and eat 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that ain't!” cried Miss Peck. She stared with interest at Lin as + he now assisted her to descend. + </p> + <p> + “All?” faltered Tommy. “Not the four nests?” + </p> + <p> + “I've had three meals, yu' know,” Lin reminded him, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “I helped him,” said I. “Ten innocent, fresh eggs. But we have left some + ham. Forgive us, please.” + </p> + <p> + “I declare!” said Miss Peck, abruptly, and rolled her sluggish, inviting + eyes upon me. “You're a case, too, I expect.” + </p> + <p> + But she took only brief note of me, although it was from head to foot. In + her stare the dull shine of familiarity grew vacant, and she turned back + to Lin McLean. “You carry that,” said she, and gave the pleased + cow-puncher a hand valise. + </p> + <p> + “I'll look after your things, Miss Peck,” called Tommy, now springing down + from his horse. The egg tragedy had momentarily stunned him. + </p> + <p> + “You'll attend to the mail first, Mr. Postmaster!” said the lady, but + favoring him with a look from her large eyes. “There's plenty of gentlemen + here.” With that her glance favored Lin. She went into the cabin, he + following her close, with the Taylors and myself in the rear. “Well, I + guess I'm about collapsed!” said she, vigorously, and sank upon one of + Tommy's chairs. + </p> + <p> + The fragile article fell into sticks beneath her, and Lin leaped to her + assistance. He placed her upon a firmer foundation. Mrs. Taylor brought a + basin and towel to bathe the dust from her face, Mr. Taylor produced + whiskey, and I found sugar and hot water. Tommy would doubtless have done + something in the way of assistance or restoratives, but he was gone to the + stable with the horses. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I get your medicine from the valise, deary?” inquired Mrs. Taylor. + </p> + <p> + “Not now,” her visitor answered; and I wondered why she should take such a + quick look at me. + </p> + <p> + “We'll soon have yu' independent of medicine,” said Lin, gallantly. “Our + climate and scenery here has frequently raised the dead.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a case, anyway!” exclaimed the sick lady with rich conviction. + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher now sat himself on the edge of Tommy's bed, and, throwing + one leg across the other, began to raise her spirits with cheerful talk. + She steadily watched him—his face sometimes, sometimes his lounging, + masculine figure. While he thus devoted his attentions to her, Taylor + departed to help Tommy at the stable, and good Mrs. Taylor, busy with + supper for all of us in the kitchen, expressed her joy at having her old + friend of childhood for a visit after so many years. + </p> + <p> + “Sickness has changed poor Katie some,” said she. “But I'm hoping she'll + get back her looks on Bear Creek.” + </p> + <p> + “She seems less feeble than I had understood,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed! I do believe she's feeling stronger. She was that tired and + down yesterday with the long stage-ride, and it is so lonesome! But Taylor + and I heartened her up, and Tommy came with the mail, and to-day she's + real spruced-up like, feeling she's among friends.” + </p> + <p> + “How long will she stay?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Just as long as ever she wants! Me and Katie hasn't met since we was + young girls in Dubuque, for I left home when I married Taylor, and he + brought me to this country right soon; and it ain't been like Dubuque + much, though if I had it to do over again I'd do just the same, as Taylor + knows. Katie and me hasn't wrote even, not till this February, for you + always mean to and you don't. Well, it'll be like old times. Katie'll be + most thirty-four, I expect. Yes. I was seventeen and she was sixteen the + very month I was married. Poor thing! She ought to have got some good man + for a husband, but I expect she didn't have any chance, for there was a + big fam'ly o' them girls, and old Peck used to act real scandalous, + getting drunk so folks didn't visit there evenings scarcely at all. And so + she quit home, it seems, and got a position in the railroad eating-house + at Sidney, and now she has poor health with feeding them big trains day + and night.” + </p> + <p> + “A biscuit-shooter!” said I. + </p> + <p> + Loyal Mrs. Taylor stirred some batter in silence. “Well,” said she then, + “I'm told that's what the yard-hands of the railroad call them poor + waiter-girls. You might hear it around the switches at them division + stations.” + </p> + <p> + I had heard it in higher places also, but meekly accepted the reproof. + </p> + <p> + If you have made your trans-Missouri journeys only since the new era of + dining-cars, there is a quantity of things you have come too late for, and + will never know. Three times a day in the brave days of old you sprang + from your scarce-halted car at the summons of a gong. You discerned by + instinct the right direction, and, passing steadily through doorways, had + taken, before you knew it, one of some sixty chairs in a room of tables + and catsup bottles. Behind the chairs, standing attention, a platoon of + Amazons, thick-wristed, pink-and-blue, began immediately a swift chant. It + hymned the total bill-of-fare at a blow. In this inexpressible ceremony + the name of every dish went hurtling into the next, telescoped to + shapelessness. Moreover, if you stopped your Amazon in the middle, it + dislocated her, and she merely went back and took a fresh start. The chant + was always the same, but you never learned it. As soon as it began, your + mind snapped shut like the upper berth in a Pullman. You must have uttered + appropriate words—even a parrot will—for next you were eating + things—pie, ham, hot cakes—as fast as you could. Twenty + minutes of swallowing, and all aboard for Ogden, with your pile-driven + stomach dumb with amazement. The Strasburg goose is not dieted with + greater velocity, and “biscuit-shooter” is a grand word. Very likely some + Homer of the railroad yards first said it—for what men upon the + present earth so speak with imagination's tongue as we Americans? + </p> + <p> + If Miss Peck had been a biscuit-shooter, I could account readily for her + conversation, her equipped deportment, the maturity in her round, blue, + marble eye. Her abrupt laugh, something beyond gay, was now sounding in + response to Mr. McLean's lively sallies, and I found him fanning her into + convalescence with his hat. She herself made but few remarks, but allowed + the cow-puncher to entertain her, merely exclaiming briefly now and then, + “I declare!” and “If you ain't!” Lin was most certainly engaging, if that + was the lady's meaning. His wide-open eyes sparkled upon her, and he half + closed them now and then to look at her more effectively. I suppose she + was worth it to him. I have forgotten to say that she was handsome in a + large California-fruit style. They made a good-looking pair of animals. + But it was in the presence of Tommy that Master Lin shone more + energetically than ever, and under such shining Tommy was transparently + restless. He tried, and failed, to bring the conversation his way, and + took to rearranging the mail and the furniture. + </p> + <p> + “Supper's ready,” he said, at length. “Come right in, Miss Peck; right in + here. This is your seat—this one, please. Now you can see my fields + out of the window.” + </p> + <p> + “You sit here,” said the biscuit-shooter to Lin; and thus she was between + them. “Them's elegant!” she presently exclaimed to Tommy. “Did you cook + 'em?” + </p> + <p> + I explained that the apricots were of my preparation. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said she, and returned to Tommy, who had been telling her of his + ranch, his potatoes, his horses. “And do you punch cattle, too?” she + inquired of him. + </p> + <p> + “Me?” said Tommy, slightingly; “gave it up years ago; too empty a life for + me. I leave that to such as like it. When a man owns his own property”—Tommy + swept his hand at the whole landscape—“he takes to more intellectual + work.” + </p> + <p> + “Lickin' postage-stamps,” Mr. McLean suggested, sourly. + </p> + <p> + “You lick them and I cancel them,” answered the postmaster; and it does + not seem a powerful rejoinder. But Miss Peck uttered her laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That's one on you,” she told Lin. And throughout this meal it was Tommy + who had her favor. She partook of his generous supplies; she listened to + his romantic inventions, the trails he had discovered, the bears he had + slain; and after supper it was with Tommy, and not with Lin, that she went + for a little walk. + </p> + <p> + “Katie was ever a tease,” said Mrs. Taylor of her childhood friend, and + Mr. Taylor observed that there was always safety in numbers. “She'll get + used to the ways of this country quicker than our little school-marm,” + said he. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean said very little, but read the new-arrived papers. It was only + when bedtime dispersed us, the ladies in the cabin and the men choosing + various spots outside, that he became talkative again for a while. We lay + in the blank—we had spread on some soft, dry sand in preference to + the stable, where Taylor and Tommy had gone. Under the contemplative + influence of the stars, Lin fell into generalization. + </p> + <p> + “Ever notice,” said he, “how whiskey and lyin' act the same on a man?” + </p> + <p> + I did not feel sure that I had. + </p> + <p> + “Just the same way. You keep either of 'em up long enough, and yu' get to + require it. If Tommy didn't lie some every day, he'd get sick.” + </p> + <p> + I was sleepy, but I murmured assent to this, and trusted he would not go + on. + </p> + <p> + “Ever notice,” said he, “how the victims of the whiskey and lyin' habit + get to increasing the dose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Him roping six bears!” pursued Mr. McLean, after further contemplation. + “Or any bear. Ever notice how the worser a man's lyin' the silenter other + men'll get? Why's that, now?” + </p> + <p> + I believe that I made a faint sound to imply that I was following him. + </p> + <p> + “Men don't get took in. But ladies now, they—” + </p> + <p> + Here he paused again, and during the next interval of contemplation I sank + beyond his reach. + </p> + <p> + In the morning I left Riverside for Buffalo, and there or thereabouts I + remained for a number of weeks. Miss Peck did not enter my thoughts, nor + did I meet any one to remind me of her, until one day I stopped at the + drug-store. It was not for drugs, but gossip, that I went. In the daytime + there was no place like the apothecary's for meeting men and hearing the + news. There I heard how things were going everywhere, including Bear + Creek. + </p> + <p> + All the cow-punchers liked the new girl up there, said gossip. She was a + great addition to society. Reported to be more companionable than the + school-marm, Miss Molly Wood, who had been raised too far east, and showed + it. Vermont, or some such dude place. Several had been in town buying + presents for Miss Katie Peck. Tommy Postmaster had paid high for a + necklace of elk-tushes the government scout at McKinney sold him. Too bad + Miss Peck did not enjoy good health. Shorty had been in only yesterday to + get her medicine again. Third bottle. Had I heard the big joke on Lin + McLean? He had promised her the skin of a big bear he knew the location + of, and Tommy got the bear. + </p> + <p> + Two days after this I joined one of the roundup camps at sunset. They had + been working from Salt Creek to Bear Creek, and the Taylor ranch was in + visiting distance from them again, after an interval of gathering and + branding far across the country. The Virginian, the gentle-voiced + Southerner, whom I had last seen lingering with Miss Wood, was in camp. + Silent three-quarters of the time, as was his way, he sat gravely watching + Lin McLean. That person seemed silent also, as was not his way quite so + much. + </p> + <p> + “Lin,” said the Southerner, “I reckon you're failin'.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean raised a sombre eye, but did not trouble to answer further. + </p> + <p> + “A healthy man's laigs ought to fill his pants,” pursued the Virginian. + The challenged puncher stretched out a limb and showed his muscles with + young pride. + </p> + <p> + “And yu' cert'nly take no comfort in your food,” his ingenious friend + continued, slowly and gently. + </p> + <p> + “I'll eat you a match any day and place yu' name,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't sca'cely hon'able,” went on the Virginian, “to waste away durin' + the round-up. A man owes his strength to them that hires it. If he is paid + to rope stock he ought to rope stock, and not leave it dodge or pull + away.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not many dodge my rope,” boasted Lin, imprudently. + </p> + <p> + “Why, they tell me as how that heifer of the Sidney-Nebraska brand got + plumb away from yu', and little Tommy had to chase afteh her.” + </p> + <p> + Lin sat up angrily amid the laughter, but reclined again. “I'll improve,” + said he, “if yu' learn me how yu' rope that Vermont stock so handy. Has + she promised to be your sister yet?” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Is that what they do?” inquired the Virginian, serenely. “I have never + got related that way. Why, that'll make Tommy your brother-in-law, Lin!” + </p> + <p> + And now, indeed, the camp laughed a loud, merciless laugh. + </p> + <p> + But Lin was silent. Where everybody lives in a glass-house the victory is + to him who throws the adroitest stone. Mr. McLean was readier witted than + most, but the gentle, slow Virginian could be a master when he chose. + </p> + <p> + “Tommy has been recountin' his wars up at the Taylors',” he now told the + camp. “He has frequently campaigned with General Crook, General Miles, and + General Ruger, all at onced. He's an exciting fighter, in conversation, + and kep' us all scared for mighty nigh an hour. Miss Peck appeared + interested in his statements.” + </p> + <p> + “What was you doing at the Taylors' yourself?” demanded Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Visitin' Miss Wood,” answered the Virginian, with entire ease. For he + also knew when to employ the plain truth as a bluff. “You'd ought to write + to Tommy's mother, Lin, and tell her what a dare-devil her son is gettin' + to be. She would cut off his allowance and bring him home, and you would + have the runnin' all to yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll fix him yet,” muttered Mr. McLean. “Him and his wars.” + </p> + <p> + With that he rose and left us. + </p> + <p> + The next afternoon he informed me that if I was riding up the creek to + spend the night he would go for company. In that direction we started, + therefore, without any mention of the Taylors or Miss Peck. I was puzzled. + Never had I seen him thus disconcerted by woman. With him woman had been a + transient disturbance. I had witnessed a series of flighty romances, where + the cow-puncher had come, seen, often conquered, and moved on. Nor had his + affairs been of the sort to teach a young man respect. I am putting it + rather mildly. + </p> + <p> + For the first part of our way this afternoon he was moody, and after that + began to speak with appalling wisdom about life. Life, he said, was a + serious matter. Did I realize that? A man was liable to forget it. A man + was liable to go sporting and helling around till he waked up some day and + found all his best pleasures had become just a business. No interest, no + surprise, no novelty left, and no cash in the bank. Shorty owed him fifty + dollars. Shorty would be able to pay that after the round-up, and he, Lin, + would get his time and rustle altogether some five hundred dollars. Then + there was his homestead claim on Box Elder, and the surveyors were coming + in this fall. No better location for a home in this country than Box + Elder. Wood, water, fine land. All it needed was a house and ditches and + buildings and fences, and to be planted with crops. Such chances and + considerations should sober a man and make him careful what he did. “I'd + take in Cheyenne on our wedding-trip, and after that I'd settle right down + to improving Box Elder,” concluded Mr. McLean, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + His real intentions flashed upon me for the first time. I had not remotely + imagined such a step. + </p> + <p> + “Marry her!” I screeched in dismay. “Marry her!” + </p> + <p> + I don't know which word was the worse to emphasize at such a moment, but I + emphasized both thoroughly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't expect yu'd act that way,” said the lover. He dropped behind me + fifty yards and spoke no more. + </p> + <p> + Not at once did I beg his pardon for the brutality I had been surprised + into. It is one of those speeches that, once said, is said forever. + </p> + <p> + But it was not that which withheld me. As I thought of the tone in which + my friend had replied, it seemed to me sullen, rather than deeply angry or + wounded—resentment at my opinion not of her character so much as of + his choice! Then I began to be sorry for the fool, and schemed for a while + how to intervene. But have you ever tried intervention? I soon abandoned + the idea, and took a way to be forgiven, and to learn more. + </p> + <p> + “Lin,” I began, slowing my horse, “you must not think about what I said.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm thinkin' of pleasanter subjects,” said he, and slowed his own horse. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, look here!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said he. He allowed his horse to come within about ten yards. + </p> + <p> + “Astonishment makes a man say anything,” I proceeded. “And I'll say again + you're too good for her—and I'll say I don't generally believe in + the wife being older than the husband.” + </p> + <p> + “What's two years?” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + I was near screeching out again, but saved myself. He was not quite + twenty-five, and I remembered Mrs. Taylor's unprejudiced computation of + the biscuit-shooter's years. It is a lady's prerogative, however, to + estimate her own age. + </p> + <p> + “She had her twenty-seventh birthday last month,” said Lin, with + sentiment, bringing his horse entirely abreast of mine. “I promised her a + bear-skin.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I, “I heard about that in Buffalo.” + </p> + <p> + Lin's face grew dusky with anger. “No doubt yu' heard about it,” said he. + “I don't guess yu' heard much about anything else. I ain't told the truth + to any of 'em—but her.” He looked at me with a certain hesitation. + “I think I will,” he continued. “I don't mind tellin' you.” + </p> + <p> + He began to speak in a strictly business tone, while he evened the coils + of rope that hung on his saddle. + </p> + <p> + “She had spoke to me about her birthday, and I had spoke to her about + something to give her. I had offered to buy her in town whatever she + named, and I was figuring to borrow from Taylor. But she fancied the + notion of a bear-skin. I had mentioned about some cubs. I had found the + cubs where the she-bear had them cached by the foot of a big boulder in + the range over Ten Sleep, and I put back the leaves and stuff on top o' + them little things as near as I could the way I found them, so that the + bear would not suspicion me. For I was aiming to get her. And Miss Peck, + she sure wanted the hide for her birthday. So I went back. The she-bear + was off, and I crumb up inside the rock, and I waited a turruble long + spell till the sun travelled clean around the canyon. Mrs. Bear come home + though, a big cinnamon; and I raised my gun, but laid it down to see what + she'd do. She scrapes around and snuffs, and the cubs start whining, and + she talks back to 'em. Next she sits up awful big, and lifts up a cub and + holds it to her close with both her paws, same as a person. And she rubbed + her ear agin the cub, and the cub sort o' nipped her, and she cuffed the + cub, and the other cub came toddlin', and away they starts rolling all + three of 'em! I watched that for a long while. That big thing just nursed + and played with them little cubs, beatin' em for a change onced in a + while, and talkin', and onced in a while she'd sit up solemn and look all + around so life-like that I near busted. Why, how was I goin' to spoil + that? So I come away, very quiet, you bet! for I'd have hated to have Mrs. + Bear notice me. Miss Peck, she laughed. She claimed I was scared to + shoot.” + </p> + <p> + “After you had told her why it was?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Before and after. I didn't tell her first, because I felt kind of + foolish. Then Tommy went and he killed the bear all right, and she has the + skin now. Of course the boys joshed me a heap about gettin' beat by + Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + “But since she has taken you?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “She ain't said it. But she will when she understands Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + I fancied that the lady understood. The once I had seen her she appeared + to me as what might be termed an expert in men, and one to understand also + the reality of Tommy's ranch and allowance, and how greatly these differed + from Box Elder. Probably the one thing she could not understand was why + Lin spared the mother and her cubs. A deserted home in Dubuque, a career + in a railroad eating-house, a somewhat vague past, and a present lacking + context—indeed, I hoped with all my heart that Tommy would win! + </p> + <p> + “Lin,” said I, “I'm backing him.” + </p> + <p> + “Back away!” said he. “Tommy can please a woman—him and his blue + eyes—but he don't savvy how to make a woman want him, not any better + than he knows about killin' Injuns.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear about the Crows?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “About young bucks going on the war-path? Shucks! That's put up by the + papers of this section. They're aimin' to get Uncle Sam to order his + troops out, and then folks can sell hay and stuff to 'em. If Tommy + believed any Crows—” he stopped, and suddenly slapped his leg. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing.” He took to singing, and his face grew roguish to its full + extent. “What made yu' say that to me?” he asked, presently. + </p> + <p> + “Say what?” + </p> + <p> + “About marrying. Yu' don't think I'd better.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Onced in a while yu' tell me I'm flighty. Well, I am. Whoop-ya!” + </p> + <p> + “Colts ought not to marry,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said he. And it was not until we came in sight of the Virginian's + black horse tied in front of Miss Wood's cabin next the Taylors' that Lin + changed the lively course of thought that was evidently filling his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Tell yu',” said he, touching my arm confidentially and pointing to the + black horse, “for all her Vermont refinement she's a woman just the same. + She likes him dangling round her so earnest—him that no body ever + saw dangle before. And he has quit spreein' with the boys. And what does + he get by it? I am glad I was not raised good enough to appreciate the + Miss Woods of this world,” he added, defiantly—“except at long + range.” + </p> + <p> + At the Taylors' cabin we found Miss Wood sitting with her admirer, and + Tommy from Riverside come to admire Miss Peck. The biscuit-shooter might + pass for twenty-seven, certainly. Something had agreed with her—whether + the medicine, or the mountain air, or so much masculine company; whatever + had done it, she had bloomed into brutal comeliness. Her hair looked + curlier, her figure was shapelier, her teeth shone whiter, and her cheeks + were a lusty, overbearing red. And there sat Molly Wood talking sweetly to + her big, grave Virginian; to look at them, there was no doubt that he had + been “raised good enough” to appreciate her, no matter what had been his + raising! + </p> + <p> + Lin greeted every one jauntily. “How are yu', Miss Peck? How are yu', + Tommy?” said he. “Hear the news, Tommy? Crow Injuns on the war-path.” + </p> + <p> + “I declare!” said the biscuit-shooter. + </p> + <p> + The Virginian was about to say something, but his eye met Lin's, and then + he looked at Tommy. Then what he did say was, “I hadn't been goin' to + mention it to the ladies until it was right sure.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't to be afraid, Miss Peck,” said Tommy. “There's lots of men + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's afraid?” said the biscuit-shooter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Lin, “maybe it's like most news we get in this country. Two + weeks stale and a lie when it was fresh.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Tommy. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Tommy!” called Taylor from the lane. “Your horse has broke his + rein and run down the field.” + </p> + <p> + Tommy rose in disgust and sped after the animal. + </p> + <p> + “I must be cooking supper now,” said Katie, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “I'll stir for yu',” said Lin, grinning at her. + </p> + <p> + “Come along then,” said she; and they departed to the adjacent kitchen. + </p> + <p> + Miss Wood's gray eyes brightened with mischief. She looked at her + Virginian, and she looked at me. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she said, “I used to be so afraid that when Bear Creek + wasn't new any more it might become dull!” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Peck doesn't find it dull either,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Molly Wood immediately assumed a look of doubt. “But mightn't it become + just—just a little trying to have two gentlemen so very—determined, + you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Only one is determined,” said the Virginian + </p> + <p> + Molly looked inquiring. + </p> + <p> + “Lin is determined Tommy shall not beat him. That's all it amounts to.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, what a notion!” + </p> + <p> + “No, ma'am, no notion. Tommy—well, Tommy is considered harmless, + ma'am. A cow-puncher of reputation in this country would cert'nly never + let Tommy get ahaid of him that way.” + </p> + <p> + “It's pleasant to know sometimes how much we count!” exclaimed Molly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, ma'am,” said the Virginian, surprised at her flash of indignation, + “where is any countin' without some love?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that Mr. McLean does not care for Miss Peck?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon he thinks he does. But there is a mighty wide difference between + thinkin' and feelin', ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + I saw Molly's eyes drop from his, and I saw the rose deepen in her cheeks. + But just then a loud voice came from the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “You, Lin, if you try any of your foolin' with me, I'll histe yu's over + the jiste!” + </p> + <p> + “All cow-punchers—” I attempted to resume. + </p> + <p> + “Quit now, Lin McLean,” shouted the voice, “or I'll put yus through that + window, and it shut.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Miss Peck, I'm gettin' most a full dose o' this treatment. Ever + since yu' come I've been doing my best. And yu' just cough in my face. And + now I'm going to quit and cough back.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you enjoy walkin' out till supper, ma'am?” inquired the Virginian + as Molly rose. “You was speaking of gathering some flowers yondeh.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” said Molly, blithely. “And you'll come?” she added to me. + </p> + <p> + But I was on the Virginian's side. “I must look after my horse,” said I, + and went down to the corral. + </p> + <p> + Day was slowly going as I took my pony to the water. Corncliff Mesa, + Crowheart Butte, these shone in the rays that came through the canyon. The + canyon's sides lifted like tawny castles in the same light. Where I walked + the odor of thousands of wild roses hung over the margin where the + thickets grew. High in the upper air, magpies were sailing across the + silent blue. Somewhere I could hear Tommy explaining loudly how he and + General Crook had pumped lead into hundreds of Indians; and when + supper-time brought us all back to the door he was finishing the account + to Mrs. Taylor. Molly and the Virginian arrived bearing flowers, and he + was saying that few cow-punchers had any reason for saving their money. + </p> + <p> + “But when you get old?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “We mostly don't live long enough to get old, ma'am,” said he, simply. + “But I have a reason, and I am saving.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the flowers,” said Molly. And she left him to arrange them on the + table as Lin came hurrying out. + </p> + <p> + “I've told her,” said he to the Southerner and me, “that I've asked her + twiced, and I'm going to let her have one more chance. And I've told her + that if it's a log cabin she's marryin', why Tommy is a sure good wooden + piece of furniture to put inside it. And I guess she knows there's not + much wooden furniture about me. I want to speak to you.” He took the + Virginian round the corner. But though he would not confide in me, I began + to discern something quite definite at supper. + </p> + <p> + “Cattle men will lose stock if the Crows get down as far as this,” he + said, casually, and Mrs. Taylor suppressed a titter. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't it hawses the're repawted as running off?” said the Virginian. + </p> + <p> + “Chap come into the round-up this afternoon,” said Lin. “But he was + rattled, and told a heap o' facts that wouldn't square.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course they wouldn't,” said Tommy, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there's nothing in it,” said Lin, dismissing the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Have yu' been to the opera since we went to Cheyenne, Mrs. Taylor?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Taylor had not. + </p> + <p> + “Lin,” said the Virginian, “did yu ever see that opera Cyarmen?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet. Fellow's girl quits him for a bullfighter. Gets him up in the + mountains, and quits him. He wasn't much good—not in her class o' + sports, smugglin' and such.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon she was doubtful of him from the start. Took him to the + mount'ins to experiment, where they'd not have interruption,” said the + Virginian. + </p> + <p> + “Talking of mountains,” said Tommy, “this range here used to be a great + place for Indians till we ran 'em out with Terry. Pumped lead into the red + sons-of-guns.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet,” said Lin. “Do yu' figure that girl tired of her bull-fighter + and quit him, too?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon,” replied the Virginian, “that the bull-fighter wore better.” + </p> + <p> + “Fans and taverns and gypsies and sportin',” said Lin. “My! but I'd like + to see them countries with oranges and bull-fights! Only I expect Spain, + maybe, ain't keepin' it up so gay as when 'Carmen' happened.” + </p> + <p> + The table-talk soon left romance and turned upon steers and alfalfa, a + grass but lately introduced in the country. No further mention was made of + the hostile Crows, and from this I drew the false conclusion that Tommy + had not come up to their hopes in the matter of reciting his campaigns. + But when the hour came for those visitors who were not spending the night + to take their leave, Taylor drew Tommy aside with me, and I noticed the + Virginian speaking with Molly Wood, whose face showed diversion. + </p> + <p> + “Don't seem to make anything of it,” whispered Taylor to Tommy, “but the + ladies have got their minds on this Indian truck.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'll just explain—” began Tommy. + </p> + <p> + “Don't,” whispered Lin, joining us. “Yu' know how women are. Once they + take a notion, why, the more yu' deny the surer they get. Now, yu' see, + him and me” (he jerked his elbow towards the Virginian) “must go back to + camp, for we're on second relief.” + </p> + <p> + “And the ladies would sleep better knowing there was another man in the + house,” said Taylor. + </p> + <p> + “In that case,” said Tommy, “I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yu' see,” said Lin, “they've been told about Ten Sleep being burned two + nights ago.” + </p> + <p> + “It ain't!” cried Tommy. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course it ain't,” drawled the ingenious Lin. “But that's what I + say. You and I know Ten Sleep's all right, but we can't report from our + own knowledge seeing it all right, and there it is. They get these nervous + notions.” + </p> + <p> + “Just don't appear to make anything special of not going back to + Riverside,” repeated Taylor, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “But just kind of stay here,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “I will!” exclaimed Tommy. “Of course, I'm glad to oblige.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose I was slow-sighted. All this pains seemed to me larger than its + results. They had imposed upon Tommy, yes. But what of that? He was to be + kept from going back to Riverside until morning. Unless they proposed to + visit his empty cabin and play tricks—but that would be too + childish, even for Lin McLean, to say nothing of the Virginian, his + occasional partner in mischief. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of the Crows,” I satirically told the ladies, “I shall sleep + outside, as I intended. I've no use for houses at this season.” + </p> + <p> + The cinches of the horses were tightened, Lin and the Virginian laid a + hand on their saddle-horns, swung up, and soon all sound of the galloping + horses had ceased. Molly Wood declined to be nervous and crossed to her + little neighbor cabin; we all parted, and (as always in that blessed + country) deep sleep quickly came to me. + </p> + <p> + I don't know how long after it was that I sprang from my blankets in + half-doubting fright. But I had dreamed nothing. A second long, wild yell + now gave me (I must own to it) a horrible chill. I had no pistol—nothing. + In the hateful brightness of the moon my single thought was “House! + House!” and I fled across the lane in my underclothes to the cabin, when + round the corner whirled the two cow-punchers, and I understood. I saw the + Virginian catch sight of me in my shirt, and saw his teeth as he smiled. I + hastened to my blankets, and returned more decent to stand and watch the + two go shooting and yelling round the cabin, crazy with their youth. The + door was opened, and Taylor courageously emerged, bearing a Winchester. He + fired at the sky immediately. + </p> + <p> + “B' gosh!” he roared. “That's one.” He fired again. “Out and at 'em. + They're running.” + </p> + <p> + At this, duly came Mrs. Taylor in white with a pistol, and Miss Peck in + white, staring and stolid. But no Tommy. Noise prevailed without, shots by + the stable and shots by the creek. The two cow-punchers dismounted and + joined Taylor. Maniac delight seized me, and I, too, rushed about with + them, helping the din. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Taylor!” said a voice. “I didn't think it of you.” It was Molly + Wood, come from her cabin, very pretty in a hood-and-cloak arrangement. + She stood by the fence, laughing, but more at us than with us. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, friends!” said Taylor, gasping. “She teaches my Bobbie his A B C. + I'd hate to have Bobbie—” + </p> + <p> + “Speak to your papa,” said Molly, and held her scholar up on the fence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be gol-darned,” said Taylor, surveying his costume, “if Lin + McLean hasn't made a fool of me to-night!” + </p> + <p> + “Where has Tommy got?” said Mrs. Taylor. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't yus see him?” said the biscuit-shooter speaking her first word in + all this. + </p> + <p> + We followed her into the kitchen. The table was covered with tin plates. + Beneath it, wedged knelt Tommy with a pistol firm in his hand; but the + plates were rattling up and down like castanets. + </p> + <p> + There was a silence among us, and I wondered what we were going to do. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” murmured the Virginian to himself, “if I could have foresaw, I'd + not—it makes yu' feel humiliated yu'self.” + </p> + <p> + He marched out, got on his horse, and rode away. Lin followed him, but + perhaps less penitently. We all dispersed without saying anything, and + presently from my blankets I saw poor Tommy come out of the silent cabin, + mount, and slowly, very slowly, ride away. He would spend the night at + Riverside, after all. + </p> + <p> + Of course we recovered from our unexpected shame, and the tale of the + table and the dancing plates was not told as a sad one. But it is a sad + one when you think of it. + </p> + <p> + I was not there to see Lin get his bride. I learned from the Virginian how + the victorious puncher had ridden away across the sunny sagebrush, bearing + the biscuit-shooter with him to the nearest justice of the peace. She was + astride the horse he had brought for her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he beat Tommy,” said the Virginian. “Some folks, anyway, get what + they want in this hyeh world.” + </p> + <p> + From which I inferred that Miss Molly Wood was harder to beat than Tommy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LIN McLEAN'S HONEY-MOON + </h2> + <p> + Rain had not fallen for some sixty days, and for some sixty more there was + no necessity that it should fall. It is spells of weather like this that + set the Western editor writing praise and prophecy of the boundless + fertility of the soil—when irrigated, and of what an Eden it can be + made—with irrigation; but the spells annoy the people who are trying + to raise the Eden. We always told the transient Eastern visitor, when he + arrived at Cheyenne and criticised the desert, that anything would grow + here—with irrigation; and sometimes he replied, unsympathetically, + that anything could fly—with wings. Then we would lead such a man + out and show him six, eight, ten square miles of green crops; and he, if + he was thoroughly nasty, would mention that Wyoming contained ninety-five + thousand square miles, all waiting for irrigation and Eden. One of these + Eastern supercivilized hostiles from New York was breakfasting with the + Governor and me at the Cheyenne Club, and we were explaining to him the + glorious future, the coming empire, of the Western country. Now the + Governor was about thirty-two, and until twenty-five had never gone West + far enough to see over the top of the Alleghany Mountains. I was not a + pioneer myself; and why both of us should have pitied the New-Yorker's + narrowness so hard I cannot see. But we did. We spoke to him of the size + of the country. We told him that his State could rattle round inside + Wyoming's stomach without any inconvenience to Wyoming, and he told us + that this was because Wyoming's stomach was empty. Altogether I began to + feel almost sorry that I had asked him to come out for a hunt, and had + travelled in haste all the way from Bear Creek to Cheyenne expressly to + meet him. + </p> + <p> + “For purposes of amusement,” he said, “I'll admit anything you claim for + this place. Ranches, cowboys, elk; it's all splendid. Only, as an + investment I prefer the East. Am I to see any cowboys?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall,” I said; and I distinctly hoped some of them might do + something to him “for purposes of amusement.” + </p> + <p> + “You fellows come up with me to my office,” said the Governor. “I'll look + at my mail, and show you round.” So we went with him through the heat and + sun. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” inquired the New-Yorker, whom I shall call James Ogden. + </p> + <p> + “That is our park,” said I. “Of course it's merely in embryo. It's + wonderful how quickly any shade tree will grow here wi—” I checked + myself. + </p> + <p> + But Ogden said “with irrigation” for me, and I was entirely sorry he had + come. + </p> + <p> + We reached the Governor's office, and sat down while he looked his letters + over. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are, Ogden,” said he. “Here's the way we hump ahead out here.” + And he read us the following: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MAGAW, KANSAS, July 5, 188— +</pre> + <p> + “Hon. Amory W. Baker: + </p> + <p> + “Sir,—Understanding that your district is suffering from a prolonged + drought, I write to say that for necessary expenses paid I will be glad to + furnish you with a reasonably shower. I have operated successfully in + Australia, Mexico, and several States of the Union, and am anxious to + exhibit my system. If your Legislature will appropriate a sum to cover, as + I said, merely my necessary expenses—say $350 (three hundred and + fifty dollars)—for half an inch I will guarantee you that quantity + of rain or forfeit the money. If I fail to give you the smallest fraction + of the amount contracted for, there is to be no pay. Kindly advise me of + what date will be most convenient for you to have the shower. I require + twenty-four hours' preparation. Hoping a favorable reply, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I am, respectfully yours, + + “Robert Hilbrun” + </pre> + <p> + “Will the Legislature do it?” inquired Ogden in good faith. + </p> + <p> + The Governor laughed boisterously. “I guess it wouldn't be + constitutional,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, bother!” said Ogden. + </p> + <p> + “My dear man,” the Governor protested, “I know we're new, and our women + vote, and we're a good deal of a joke, but we're not so progressively + funny as all that. The people wouldn't stand it. Senator Warren would fly + right into my back hair.” Barker was also new as Governor. + </p> + <p> + “Do you have Senators here too?” said Ogden, raising his eyebrows. “What + do they look like? Are they females?” And the Governor grew more + boisterous than ever, slapping his knee and declaring that these Eastern + men were certainly “out of sight”. Ogden, however, was thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “I'd have been willing to chip in for that rain myself,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That's an idea!” cried the Governor. “Nothing unconstitutional about + that. Let's see. Three hundred and fifty dollars—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll put up a hundred,” said Ogden, promptly. “I'm out for a Western + vacation, and I'll pay for a good specimen.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor and I subscribed more modestly, and by noon, with the help of + some lively minded gentlemen of Cheyenne, we had the purse raised. “He + won't care,” said the Governor, “whether it's a private enterprise or a + municipal step, so long as he gets his money.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't get it, I'm afraid,” said Ogden. “But if he succeeds in tempting + Providence to that extent, I consider it cheap. Now what do you call those + people there on the horses?” + </p> + <p> + We were walking along the track of the Cheyenne and Northern, and looking + out over the plain toward Fort Russell. “That is a cow-puncher and his + bride,” I answered, recognizing the couple. + </p> + <p> + “Real cow-puncher?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite. The puncher's name is Lin McLean.” + </p> + <p> + “Real bride?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid so.” + </p> + <p> + “She's riding straddle!” exclaimed the delighted Ogden, adjusting his + glasses. “Why do you object to their union being holy?” + </p> + <p> + I explained that my friend Lin had lately married an eating-house lady + precipitately and against my advice. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he knew his business,” observed Ogden. + </p> + <p> + “That's what he said to me at the time. But you ought to see her—and + know him.” + </p> + <p> + Ogden was going to. Husband and wife were coming our way. Husband nodded + to me his familiar offish nod, which concealed his satisfaction at meeting + with an old friend. Wife did not look at me at all. But I looked at her, + and I instantly knew that Lin—the fool!—had confided to her my + disapproval of their marriage. The most delicate specialty upon earth is + your standing with your old friend's new wife. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, Mr. McLean,” said the Governor to the cow-puncher on his horse. + </p> + <p> + “How're are yu', doctor,” said Lin. During his early days in Wyoming the + Governor, when as yet a private citizen, had set Mr. McLean's broken leg + at Drybone. “Let me make yu' known to Mrs. McLean,” pursued the husband. + </p> + <p> + The lady, at a loss how convention prescribes the greeting of a bride to a + Governor, gave a waddle on the pony's back, then sat up stiff, gazed + haughtily at the air, and did not speak or show any more sign than a cow + would under like circumstances. So the Governor marched cheerfully at her, + extending his hand, and when she slightly moved out toward him her big, + dumb, red fist, he took it and shook it, and made her a series of + compliments, she maintaining always the scrupulous reserve of the cow. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” Ogden whispered to me while Barker was pumping the hand of the + flesh image, “I'm glad I came.” The appearance of the puncher-bridegroom + also interested Ogden, and he looked hard at Lin's leather chaps and + cartridge-belt and so forth. Lin stared at the New-Yorker, and his high + white collar and good scarf. He had seen such things quite often, of + course, but they always filled him with the same distrust of the man that + wore them. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “I guess we'll be pulling for a hotel. Any show in town? + Circus come yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I. “Are you going to make a long stay?” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher glanced at the image, his bride of three weeks. “Till + we're tired of it, I guess,” said he, with hesitation. It was the first + time that I had ever seen my gay friend look timidly at any one, and I + felt a rising hate for the ruby-checked, large-eyed eating-house lady, the + biscuit-shooter whose influence was dimming this jaunty, irrepressible + spirit. I looked at her. Her bulky bloom had ensnared him, and now she was + going to tame and spoil him. The Governor was looking at her too, + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Lin,” I said, “if you stay here long enough you'll see a big show.” + And his eye livened into something of its native jocularity as I told him + of the rain-maker. + </p> + <p> + “Shucks!” said he, springing from his horse impetuously, and hugely + entertained at our venture. “Three hundred and fifty dollars? Let me come + in”; and before I could tell him that we had all the money raised, he was + hauling out a wadded lump of bills. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain't going to starve here in the road, I guess,” spoke the + image, with the suddenness of a miracle. I think we all jumped, and I know + that Lin did. The image continued: “Some folks and their money are soon + parted”—she meant me; her searching tones came straight at me; I was + sure from the first that she knew all about me and my unfavorable opinion + of her—“but it ain't going to be you this time, Lin McLean. Ged ap!” + This last was to the horse, I maintain, though the Governor says the + husband immediately started off on a run. + </p> + <p> + At any rate, they were gone to their hotel, and Ogden was seated on some + railroad ties, exclaiming: “Oh, I like Wyoming! I am certainly glad I + came.” + </p> + <p> + “That's who she is!” said the Governor, remembering Mrs. McLean all at + once. “I know her. She used to be at Sidney. She's got another husband + somewhere. She's one of the boys. Oh, that's nothing in this country!” he + continued to the amazed Ogden, who had ejaculated “Bigamy!” “Lots of them + marry, live together awhile, get tired and quit, travel, catch on to a new + man, marry him, get tired and quit, travel, catch on—” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, I beg,” said Ogden, adjusting his glasses. “What does the law—” + </p> + <p> + “Law?” said the Governor. “Look at that place!” He swept his hand towards + the vast plains and the mountains. “Ninety-five thousand square miles of + that, and sixty thousand people in it. We haven't got policemen yet on top + of the Rocky Mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said the New-Yorker. “But—but—well let A and B + represent first and second husbands, and X represent the woman. Now, does + A know about B? or does B know about A? And what do they do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't say,” the Governor answered, jovially. “Can't generalize. Depends + on heaps of things—love—money—Did you go to college? + Well, let A minus X equal B plus X, then if A and B get squared—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come to lunch,” I said. “Barker, do you really know the first husband + is alive?” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't dead last winter.” And Barker gave us the particulars. Miss Katie + Peck had not served long in the restaurant before she was wooed and won by + a man who had been a ranch cook, a sheep-herder, a bar-tender, a freight + hand, and was then hauling poles for the government. During his necessary + absences from home she, too, went out-of-doors. This he often discovered, + and would beat her, and she would then also beat him. After the beatings + one of them would always leave the other forever. Thus was Sidney kept in + small-talk until Mrs. Lusk one day really did not come back. “Lusk,” said + the Governor, finishing his story, “cried around the saloons for a couple + of days, and then went on hauling poles for the government, till at last + he said he'd heard of a better job south, and next we knew of him he was + round Leavenworth. Lusk was a pretty poor bird. Owes me ten dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, “none of us ever knew about him when she came to stay with + Mrs. Taylor on Bear Creek. She was Miss Peck when Lin made her Mrs. + McLean.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll notice,” said the Governor, “how she has got him under in three + weeks. Old hand, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Lin!” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Lucky, I call him,” said the Governor. “He can quit her.” + </p> + <p> + “Supposing McLean does not want to quit her?” + </p> + <p> + “She's educating him to want to right now, and I think he'll learn pretty + quick. I guess Mr. Lin's romance wasn't very ideal this trip. Hello! here + comes Jode. Jode, won't you lunch with us? Mr. Ogden, of New York, Mr. + Jode. Mr. Jode is our signal-service officer, Mr. Ogden.” The Governor's + eyes were sparkling hilariously, and he winked at me. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, good-morning. Mr. Ogden, I am honored to make your + acquaintance,” said the signal-service officer. + </p> + <p> + “Jode, when is it going to rain?” said the Governor, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + Now Jode is the most extraordinarily solemn man I have ever known. He has + the solemnity of all science, added to the unspeakable weight of + representing five of the oldest families in South Carolina. The Jodes + themselves were not old in South Carolina, but immensely so in—I + think he told me it was Long Island. His name is Poinsett Middleton + Manigault Jode. He used to weigh a hundred and twenty-eight pounds then, + but his health has strengthened in that climate. His clothes were black; + his face was white, with black eyes sharp as a pin; he had the shape of a + spout—the same narrow size all the way down—and his voice was + as dry and light as an egg-shell. In his first days at Cheyenne he had + constantly challenged large cowboys for taking familiarities with his + dignity, and they, after one moment's bewilderment, had concocted + apologies that entirely met his exactions, and gave them much satisfaction + also. Nobody would have hurt Jode for the world. In time he came to see + that Wyoming was a game invented after his book of rules was published, + and he looked on, but could not play the game. He had fallen, along with + other incongruities, into the roaring Western hotch-pot, and he passed his + careful, precise days with barometers and weather-charts. + </p> + <p> + He answered the Governor with official and South Carolina impressiveness. + “There is no indication of diminution of the prevailing pressure,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's what I thought,” said the joyous Governor, “so I'm going to + whoop her up.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you expect to whoop up, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Atmosphere, and all that,” said the Governor. “Whole business has got to + get a move on. I've sent for a rain-maker.” + </p> + <p> + “Governor, you are certainly a wag, sir,” said Jode, who enjoyed Barker as + some people enjoy a symphony, without understanding it. But after we had + reached the club and were lunching, and Jode realized that a letter had + actually been written telling Hilbrun to come and bring his showers with + him, the punctilious signal-service officer stated his position. “Have + your joke, sir,” he said, waving a thin, clean hand, “but I decline to + meet him.” + </p> + <p> + “Hilbrun?” said the Governor, staring. + </p> + <p> + “If that's his name—yes, sir. As a member of the Weather Bureau and + the Meteorological Society I can have nothing to do with the fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Glory!” said the Governor. “Well, I suppose not. I see your point, Jode. + I'll be careful to keep you apart. As a member of the College of + Physicians I've felt that way about homeopathy and the faith-cure. All + very well if patients will call 'em in, but can't meet 'em in + consultation. But three months' drought annually, Jode! It's slow—too + slow. The Western people feel that this conservative method the Zodiac + does its business by is out of date.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite serious, sir,” said Jode. “And let me express my gratification + that you do see my point.” So we changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + Our weather scheme did not at first greatly move the public. Beyond those + who made up the purse, few of our acquaintances expressed curiosity about + Hilbrun, and next afternoon Lin McLean told me in the street that he was + disgusted with Cheyenne's coldness toward the enterprise. “But the boys + would fly right at it and stay with it if the round-up was near town, you + bet,” said he. + </p> + <p> + He was walking alone. “How's Mrs. McLean to-day?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “She's well,” said Lin, turning his eye from mine. “Who's your friend all + bugged up in English clothes?” + </p> + <p> + “About as good a man as you,” said I, “and more cautious.” + </p> + <p> + “Him and his eye-glasses!” said the sceptical puncher, still looking away + from me and surveying Ogden, who was approaching with the Governor. That + excellent man, still at long range, broke out smiling till his teeth + shone, and he waved a yellow paper at us. + </p> + <p> + “Telegram from Hilbrun,” he shouted; “be here to-morrow”; and he hastened + up. + </p> + <p> + “Says he wants a cart at the depot, and a small building where he can be + private,” added Ogden. “Great, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” said Lin, brightening. The New Yorker's urbane but obvious + excitement mollified Mr. McLean. “Ever seen rain made, Mr. Ogden?” said + he. + </p> + <p> + “Never. Have you?” + </p> + <p> + Lin had not. Ogden offered him a cigar, which the puncher pronounced + excellent, and we all agreed to see Hilbrun arrive. + </p> + <p> + “We're going to show the telegram to Jode,” said the Governor; and he and + Ogden departed on this mission to the signal service. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I must be getting along myself,” said Lin; but he continued walking + slowly with me. “Where're yu' bound?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere in particular,” said I. And we paced the board sidewalks a little + more. + </p> + <p> + “You're going to meet the train to-morrow?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “The train? Oh yes. Hilbrun's. To-morrow. You'll be there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll be there. It's sure been a dry spell, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Just like last year. In fact, like all the years.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I've never saw it rain any to speak of in summer. I expect it's the + rule. Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't guess any man knows enough to break such a rule. Do you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But it'll be fun to see him try.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure fun! Well, I must be getting along. See yu' to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “See you to-morrow, Lin.” + </p> + <p> + He left me at a corner, and I stood watching his tall, depressed figure. A + hundred yards down the street he turned, and seeing me looking after him, + pretended he had not turned; and then I took my steps toward the club, + telling myself that I had been something of a skunk; for I had inquired + for Mrs. McLean in a certain tone, and I had hinted to Lin that he had + lacked caution; and this was nothing but a way of saying “I told you so” + to the man that is down. Down Lin certainly was, although it had not come + so home to me until our little walk together just now along the boards. + </p> + <p> + At the club I found the Governor teaching Ogden a Cheyenne specialty—a + particular drink, the Allston cocktail. “It's the bitters that does the + trick,” he was saying, but saw me and called out: “You ought to have been + with us and seen Jode. I showed him the telegram, you know. He read it + through, and just handed it back to me, and went on monkeying with his + anemometer. Ever seen his instruments? Every fresh jigger they get out he + sends for. Well, he monkeyed away, and wouldn't say a word, so I said, + 'You understand, Jode, this telegram comes from Hilbrun.' And Jode, he + quit his anemometer and said, 'I make no doubt, sir, that your despatch is + genuwine.' Oh, South Carolina's indignant at me!” And the Governor slapped + his knee. “Why, he's so set against Hilbrun,” he continued, “I guess if he + knew of something he could explode to stop rain he'd let her fly!” + </p> + <p> + “No, he wouldn't,” said I. “He'd not consider that honorable.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” the Governor assented. “Jode'll play fair.” + </p> + <p> + It was thus we had come to look at our enterprise—a game between a + well-established, respectable weather bureau and an upstart charlatan. And + it was the charlatan had our sympathy—as all charlatans, whether + religious, military, medical, political, or what not, have with the + average American. We met him at the station. That is, Ogden, McLean, and + I; and the Governor, being engaged, sent (unofficially) his secretary and + the requested cart. Lin was anxious to see what would be put in the cart, + and I was curious about how a rain-maker would look. But he turned out an + unassuming, quiet man in blue serge, with a face you could not remember + afterwards, and a few civil, ordinary remarks. He even said it was a hot + day, as if he had no relations with the weather; and what he put into the + cart were only two packing-boxes of no special significance to the eye. He + desired no lodging at the hotel, but to sleep with his apparatus in the + building provided for him; and we set out for it at once. It was an + untenanted barn, and he asked that he and his assistant might cut a hole + in the roof, upon which we noticed the assistant for the first time—a + tallish, good-looking young man, but with a weak mouth. “This is Mr. + Lusk,” said the rain-maker; and we shook hands, Ogden and I exchanging a + glance. Ourselves and the cart marched up Hill Street—or Capitol + Avenue, as it has become named since Cheyenne has grown fuller of pomp and + emptier of prosperity—and I thought we made an unusual procession: + the Governor's secretary, unofficially leading the way to the barn; the + cart, and the rain-maker beside it, guarding his packed-up mysteries; + McLean and Lusk, walking together in unconscious bigamy; and in the rear, + Odgen nudging me in the ribs. That it was the correct Lusk we had with us + I felt sure from his incompetent, healthy, vacant appearance, + strong-bodied and shiftless—the sort of man to weary of one trade + and another, and make a failure of wife beating between whiles. In + Twenty-fourth Street—the town's uttermost rim—the Governor met + us, and stared at Lusk. “Christopher!” was his single observation; but he + never forgets a face—cannot afford to, now that he is in politics; + and, besides, Lusk remembered him. You seldom really forget a man to whom + you owe ten dollars. + </p> + <p> + “So you've quit hauling poles?” said the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing in it, sir,” said Lusk. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any objection to my having a hole in the roof?” asked the + rain-maker; for this the secretary had been unable to tell him. + </p> + <p> + “What! going to throw your bombs through it?” said the Governor, smiling + heartily. + </p> + <p> + But the rain-maker explained at once that his was not the bomb system, but + a method attended by more rain and less disturbance. “Not that the bomb + don't produce first-class results at times and under circumstances,” he + said, “but it's uncertain and costly.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor hesitated about the hole in the roof, which Hilbrun told us + was for a metal pipe to conduct his generated gases into the air. The + owner of the barn had gone to Laramie. However, we found a stove-pipe + hole, which saved delay. “And what day would you prefer the shower?” said + Hilbrun, after we had gone over our contract with him. + </p> + <p> + “Any day would do,” the Governor said. + </p> + <p> + This was Thursday; and Sunday was chosen, as a day when no one had + business to detain him from witnessing the shower—though it seemed + to me that on week-days, too, business in Cheyenne was not so inexorable + as this. We gave the strangers some information about the town, and left + them. The sun went away in a cloudless sky, and came so again when the + stars had finished their untarnished shining. Friday was clear and dry and + hot, like the dynasty of blazing days that had gone before. + </p> + <p> + I saw a sorry spectacle in the street—the bridegroom and the bride + shopping together; or, rather, he with his wad of bills was obediently + paying for what she bought; and when I met them he was carrying a scarlet + parasol and a bonnet-box. His biscuit-shooter, with the lust of purchase + on her, was brilliantly dressed, and pervaded the street with splendor, + like an escaped parrot. Lin walked beside her, but it might as well have + been behind, and his bearing was so different from his wonted + happy-go-luckiness that I had a mind to take off my hat and say, + “Good-morning, Mrs. Lusk.” But it was “Mrs. McLean” I said, of course. She + gave me a remote, imperious nod, and said, “Come on, Lin,” something like + a cross nurse, while he, out of sheer decency, made her a good-humored, + jocular answer, and said to me, “It takes a woman to know what to buy for + house-keepin,”; which poor piece of hypocrisy endeared him to me more than + ever. The puncher was not of the fibre to succeed in keeping appearances, + but he deserved success, which the angels consider to be enough. I + wondered if disenchantment had set in, or if this were only the + preliminary stage of surprise and wounding, and I felt that but one test + could show, namely, a coming face to face of Mr. and Mrs. Lusk, perhaps + not to be desired. Neither was it likely. The assistant rain-maker kept + himself steadfastly inside or near the barn, at the north corner of + Cheyenne, while the bride, when she was in the street at all, haunted the + shops clear across town diagonally. + </p> + <p> + On this Friday noon the appearance of the metal tube above the blind + building spread some excitement. It moved several of the citizens to pay + the place a visit and ask to see the machine. These callers, of course, + sustained a polite refusal, and returned among their friends with a + contempt for such quackery, and a greatly heightened curiosity; so that + pretty soon you could hear discussions at the street corners, and by + Saturday morning Cheyenne was talking of little else. The town prowled + about the barn and its oracular metal tube, and heard and saw nothing. The + Governor and I (let it be confessed) went there ourselves, since the + twenty-four hours of required preparation were now begun. We smelled for + chemicals, and he thought there was a something, but having been bred a + doctor, distrusted his imagination. I could not be sure myself whether + there was anything or not, although I walked three times round the barn, + snuffing as dispassionately as I knew how. It might possibly be chlorine, + the Governor said, or some gas for which ammonia was in part responsible; + and this was all he could say, and we left the place. The world was as + still and the hard, sharp hills as clear and near as ever; and the sky + over Sahara is not more dry and enduring than was ours. This tenacity in + the elements plainly gave Jode a malicious official pleasure. We could + tell it by his talk at lunch; and when the Governor reminded him that no + rain was contracted for until the next day, he mentioned that the approach + of a storm is something that modern science is able to ascertain long in + advance; and he bade us come to his office whenever we pleased, and see + for ourselves what science said. This was, at any rate, something to fill + the afternoon with, and we went to him about five. Lin McLean joined us on + the way. I came upon him lingering alone in the street, and he told me + that Mrs. McLean was calling on friends. I saw that he did not know how to + spend the short recess or holiday he was having. He seemed to cling to the + society of others, and with them for the time regain his gayer mind. He + had become converted to Ogden, and the New-Yorker, on his side, found + pleasant and refreshing this democracy of Governors and cow-punchers. Jode + received us at the signal-service office, and began to show us his + instruments with the careful pride of an orchid-collector. + </p> + <p> + “A hair hygrometer,” he said to me, waving his wax-like hand over it. “The + indications are obtained from the expansion and contraction of a prepared + human hair, transferred to an index needle traversing the divided arc of—” + </p> + <p> + “What oil do you put on the human hair Jode?” called out the Governor, who + had left our group, and was gamboling about by himself among the tubes and + dials. “What will this one do?” he asked, and poked at a wet paper disc. + But before the courteous Jode could explain that it had to do with + evaporation and the dew-point, the Governor's attention wandered, and he + was blowing at a little fan-wheel. This instantly revolved and set a + number of dial hands going different ways. “Hi!” said the Governor, + delighted. “Seen 'em like that down mines. Register air velocity in feet. + Put it away, Jode. You don't want that to-morrow. What you'll need, + Hilbrun says, is a big old rain-gauge and rubber shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall require nothing of the sort, Governor,” Jode retorted at once. + “And you can go to church without your umbrella in safety, sir. See + there.” He pointed to a storm-glass, which was certainly as clear as + crystal. “An old-fashioned test, you will doubtless say, gentlemen,” Jode + continued—though none of us would have said anything like that—“but + unjustly discredited; and, furthermore, its testimony is well + corroborated, as you will find you must admit.” Jode's voice was almost + threatening, and he fetched one corroborator after another. I looked + passively at wet and dry bulbs, at self-recording, dotted registers; I + caught the fleeting sound of words like “meniscus” and “terrestrial + minimum thermometer,” and I nodded punctually when Jode went through some + calculation. At last I heard something that I could understand—a + series of telegraphic replies to Jode from brother signal-service officers + all over the United States. He read each one through from date of + signature, and they all made any rain to-morrow entirely impossible. “And + I tell you,” Jode concluded, in his high, egg-shell voice, “there's no + chance of precipitation now, sir. I tell you, sir,”—he was shrieking + jubilantly—“there's not a damn' thing to precipitate!” + </p> + <p> + We left him in his triumph among his glass and mercury. “Gee whiz!” said + the Governor. “I guess we'd better go and tell Hilbrun it's no use.” + </p> + <p> + We went, and Hilbrun smiled with a certain compassion for the antiquated + scientist. “That's what they all say,” he said. “I'll do my talking + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “If any of you gentlemen, or your friends,” said Assistant Lusk, stepping + up, “feel like doing a little business on this, I am ready to accommodate + you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do yu' want this evenin'?” said Lin McLean, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Five to one,” said Lusk. + </p> + <p> + “Go yu' in twenties,” said the impetuous puncher; and I now perceived this + was to be a sporting event. Lin had his wad of bills out—or what of + it still survived his bride's shopping. “Will you hold stakes, doctor?” he + said to the Governor. + </p> + <p> + But that official looked at the clear sky, and thought he would do five to + one in twenties himself. Lusk accommodated him, and then Ogden, and then + me. None of us could very well be stake-holder, but we registered our + bets, and promised to procure an uninterested man by eight next morning. I + have seldom had so much trouble, and I never saw such a universal search + for ready money. Every man we asked to hold stakes instantly whipped out + his own pocketbook, went in search of Lusk, and disqualified himself. It + was Jode helped us out. He would not bet, but was anxious to serve, and + thus punish the bragging Lusk. + </p> + <p> + Sunday was, as usual, chronically fine, with no cloud or breeze anywhere, + and by the time the church-bells were ringing, ten to one was freely + offered. The biscuit-shooter went to church with her friends, so she might + wear her fine clothes in a worthy place, while her furloughed husband + rushed about Cheyenne, entirely his own old self again, his wad of money + staked and in Jode's keeping. Many citizens bitterly lamented their lack + of ready money. But it was a good thing for these people that it was + Sunday, and the banks closed. + </p> + <p> + The church-bells ceased; the congregations sat inside, but outside the hot + town showed no Sunday emptiness or quiet. The metal tube, the possible + smell, Jode's sustained and haughty indignation, the extraordinary + assurance of Lusk, all this had ended by turning every one restless and + eccentric. A citizen came down the street with an umbrella. In a moment + the by-standers had reduced it to a sordid tangle of ribs. Old Judge + Burrage attempted to address us at the corner about the vast progress of + science. The postmaster pinned a card on his back with the well-known + legend, “I am somewhat of a liar myself.” And all the while the sun shone + high and hot, while Jode grew quieter and colder under the certainty of + victory. It was after twelve o'clock when the people came from church, and + no change or sign was to be seen. Jode told us, with a chill smile, that + he had visited his instruments and found no new indications. Fifteen + minutes after that the sky was brown. Sudden, padded, dropsical clouds + were born in the blue above our heads. They blackened, and a smart shower, + the first in two months, wet us all, and ceased. The sun blazed out, and + the sky came blue again, like those rapid, unconvincing weather changes of + the drama. + </p> + <p> + Amazement at what I saw happening in the heavens took me from things on + earth, and I was unaware of the universal fit that now seized upon + Cheyenne until I heard the high cry of Jode at my ear. His usual + punctilious bearing had forsaken him, and he shouted alike to stranger and + acquaintance: “It is no half-inch, sir! Don't you tell me”' And the crowd + would swallow him, but you could mark his vociferous course as he went + proclaiming to the world. “A failure, sir! The fellow's an impostor, as I + well knew. It's no half-inch!” Which was true. + </p> + <p> + “What have you got to say to that?” we asked Hilbrun, swarming around him. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll just keep cool,” said he—“it's only the first instalment. + In about two hours and a half I'll give you the rest.” + </p> + <p> + Soon after four the dropsical clouds materialized once again above + open-mouthed Cheyenne. No school let out for an unexpected holiday, no + herd of stampeded range cattle, conducts itself more miscellaneously. + Gray, respectable men, with daughters married, leaped over fences and + sprang back, prominent legislators hopped howling up and down door-steps, + women waved handkerchiefs from windows and porches, the chattering Jode + flew from anemometer to rain-gauge, and old Judge Burrage apostrophized + Providence in his front yard, with the postmaster's label still pinned to + his back. Nobody minded the sluicing downpour—this second instalment + was much more of a thing than the first—and Hilbrun alone kept a + calm exterior—the face of the man who lifts a heavy dumb-bell and + throws an impressive glance at the audience. Assistant Lusk was by no + means thus proof against success I saw him put a bottle back in his + pocket, his face already disintegrated with a tipsy leer. Judge Burrage, + perceiving the rain-maker, came out of his gate and proceeded toward him, + extending the hand of congratulation. “Mr. Hilbrun,” said he, “I am Judge + Burrage—the Honorable T. Coleman Burrage—and I will say that I + am most favorably impressed with your shower.” + </p> + <p> + “His shower!” yelped Jode, flourishing measurements. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yu' don't claim it's yourn, do yu'?” said Lin McLean, grinning. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it's no half-inch yet, gentlemen,” said Jode, ignoring the + facetious puncher. + </p> + <p> + “You're mistaken,” said Hilbrun, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “It's a plumb big show, half-inch or no half-inch,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “If he's short he don't get his money,” said some ignoble subscriber + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he will,” said the Governor, “or I'm a short. He's earned it.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet “' said Lin. “Fair and square. If they're goin' back on yu', + doctor, I'll chip—Shucks!” Lin's hand fell from the empty pocket; he + remembered his wad in the stake-holder's hands, and that he now possessed + possibly two dollars in silver, all told. “I can't chip in, doctor,” he + said. “That hobo over there has won my cash, an' he's filling up on the + prospect right now. I don't care! It's the biggest show I've ever saw. + You're a dandy, Mr. Hilbrun! Whoop!” And Lin clapped the rain-maker on the + shoulder, exulting. He had been too well entertained to care what he had + in his pocket, and his wife had not yet occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + They were disputing about the rainfall, which had been slightly under half + an inch in a few spots, but over it in many others; and while we stood + talking in the renewed sunlight, more telegrams were brought to Jode, + saying that there was no moisture anywhere, and simultaneously with these, + riders dashed into town with the news that twelve miles out the rain had + flattened the grain crop. We had more of such reports from as far as + thirty miles, and beyond that there had not been a drop or a cloud. It + staggered one's reason; the brain was numb with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” said the rain-maker, “I'm packed up, and my train'll be + along soon—would have been along by this, only it's late. What's the + word as to my three hundred and fifty dollars?” + </p> + <p> + Even still there were objections expressed. He had not entirely performed + his side of the contract. + </p> + <p> + “I think different, gentlemen,” said he. “But I'll unpack and let that + train go. I can't have the law on you, I suppose. But if you don't pay me” + (the rain-maker put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the fence) + “I'll flood your town.” + </p> + <p> + In earthquakes and eruptions people end by expecting anything; and in the + total eclipse that was now over all Cheyenne's ordinary standards and + precedents the bewildered community saw in this threat nothing more + unusual than if he had said twice two made four. The purse was handed + over. + </p> + <p> + “I'm obliged,” said Hilbrun, simply. + </p> + <p> + “If I had foreseen, gentlemen,” said Jode, too deeply grieved now to feel + anger, “that I would even be indirectly associated with your losing your + money through this—this absurd occurrence, I would have declined to + help you. It becomes my duty,” he continued, turning coldly to the + inebriated Lusk, “to hand this to you, sir.” And the assistant lurchingly + stuffed his stakes away. + </p> + <p> + “It's worth it,” said Lin. “He's welcome to my cash.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that you say, Lin McLean?” It was the biscuit-shooter, and she + surged to the front. + </p> + <p> + “I'm broke. He's got it. That's all,” said Lin, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Broke! You!” She glared at her athletic young lord, and she uttered a + preliminary howl. + </p> + <p> + At that long-lost cry Lusk turned his silly face. “It's my darling Kate,” + he said. “Why, Kate!” + </p> + <p> + The next thing that I knew Ogden and I were grappling with Lin McLean; for + everything had happened at once. The bride had swooped upon her first + wedded love and burst into tears on the man's neck, which Lin was trying + to break in consequence. We do not always recognize our benefactors at + sight. They all came to the ground, and we hauled the second husband off. + The lady and Lusk remained in a heap, he foolish, tearful, and + affectionate; she turned furiously at bay, his guardian angel, indifferent + to the onlooking crowd, and hurling righteous defiance at Lin. “Don't yus + dare lay yer finger on my husband, you sage-brush bigamist!” is what the + marvelous female said. + </p> + <p> + “Bigamist?” repeated Lin, dazed at this charge. “I ain't,” he said to + Ogden and me. “I never did. I've never married any of 'em before her.” + </p> + <p> + “Little good that'll do yus, Lin McLean! Me and him was man and wife + before ever I come acrosst yus.” + </p> + <p> + “You and him?” murmured the puncher. + </p> + <p> + “Her and me,” whimpered Lusk. “Sidney.” He sat up with a limp, confiding + stare at everybody. + </p> + <p> + “Sidney who?” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” corrected Lusk, crossly—“Sidney, Nebraska.” + </p> + <p> + The stakes at this point fell from his pocket which he did not notice. But + the bride had them in safe-keeping at once. + </p> + <p> + “Who are yu', anyway—when yu' ain't drunk?” demanded Lin. + </p> + <p> + “He's as good a man as you, and better,” snorted the guardian angel. “Give + him a pistol, and he'll make you hard to find.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you listen to me, Sidney Nebraska—” Lin began. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” corrected Lusk once more, as a distant whistle blew—“Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, gentlemen,” said the rain-maker. “That's the west-bound. I'm + perfectly satisfied with my experiment here, and I'm off to repeat it at + Salt Lake City.” + </p> + <p> + “You are?” shouted Lin McLean. “Him and Jim's going to work it again! For + goodness' sake, somebody lend me twenty-five dollars!” + </p> + <p> + At this there was an instantaneous rush. Ten minutes later, in front of + the ticket-windows there was a line of citizens buying tickets for Salt + Lake as if it had been Madame Bernhardt. Some rock had been smitten, and + ready money had flowed forth. The Governor saw us off, sad that his duties + should detain him. But Jode went! + </p> + <p> + “Betting is the fool's argument, gentlemen,” said he to Ogden, McLean, and + me, “and it's a weary time since I have had the pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Which way are yu' bettin'?” Lin asked. + </p> + <p> + “With my principles, sir,” answered the little signal-service officer. + </p> + <p> + “I expect I ain't got any,” said the puncher. “It's Jim I'm backin' this + time.” + </p> + <p> + “See here,” said I; “I want to talk to you.” We went into another car, and + I did. + </p> + <p> + “And so yu' knowed about Lusk when we was on them board walks?” the + puncher said. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean I ought to have—” + </p> + <p> + “Shucks! no. Yu' couldn't. Nobody couldn't. It's a queer world, all the + same. Yu' have good friends, and all that.” He looked out of the window. + “Laramie already!” he commented, and got out and walked by himself on the + platform until we had started again. “Yu' have good friends,” he pursued, + settling himself so his long legs were stretched and comfortable, “and + they tell yu' things, and you tell them things. And when it don't make no + particular matter one way or the other, yu' give 'em your honest opinion + and talk straight to 'em, and they'll come to you the same way. So that + when yu're ridin' the range alone sometimes, and thinkin' a lot o' things + over on top maybe of some dog-goned hill, you'll say to yourself about + some fellow yu' know mighty well, 'There's a man is a good friend of + mine.' And yu' mean it. And it's so. Yet when matters is serious, as onced + in a while they're bound to get, and yu're in a plumb hole, where is the + man then—your good friend? Why, he's where yu' want him to be. + Standin' off, keepin' his mouth shut, and lettin' yu' find your own trail + out. If he tried to show it to yu', yu'd likely hit him. But shucks! + Circumstances have showed me the trail this time, you bet!” And the + puncher's face, which had been sombre, grew lively, and he laid a friendly + hand on my knee. + </p> + <p> + “The trail's pretty simple,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “You bet! But it's sure a queer world. Tell yu',” said Lin, with the air + of having made a discovery, “when a man gets down to bed-rock affairs in + this life he's got to do his travellin' alone, same as he does his dyin'. + I expect even married men has thoughts and hopes they don't tell their + wives.” + </p> + <p> + “Never was married,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Well—no more was I. Let's go to bed.” And Lin shook my hand, and + gave me a singular, rather melancholy smile. + </p> + <p> + At Salt Lake City, which Ogden was glad to include in his Western holiday, + we found both Mormon and Gentile ready to give us odds against rain—only + I noticed that those of the true faith were less free. Indeed; the Mormon, + the Quaker, and most sects of an isolated doctrine have a nice prudence in + money. During our brief stay we visited the sights: floating in the lake, + listening to pins drop in the gallery of the Tabernacle, seeing frescos of + saints in robes speaking from heaven to Joseph Smith in the Sunday clothes + of a modern farm-hand, and in the street we heard at a distance a + strenuous domestic talk between the new—or perhaps I should say the + original—husband and wife. + </p> + <p> + “She's corralled Sidney's cash!” said the delighted Lin. “He can't bet + nothing on this shower.” + </p> + <p> + And then, after all, this time—it didn't rain! + </p> + <p> + Stripped of money both ways, Cheyenne, having most fortunately purchased a + return ticket, sought its home. The perplexed rain-maker went somewhere + else, without his assistant. Lusk's exulting wife, having the money, + retained him with her. + </p> + <p> + “Good luck to yu', Sidney!” said Lin, speaking to him for the first time + since Cheyenne. “I feel a heap better since I've saw yu' married.” He paid + no attention to the biscuit-shooter, or the horrible language that she + threw after him. + </p> + <p> + Jode also felt “a heap better.” Legitimate science had triumphed. To-day, + most of Cheyenne believes with Jode that it was all a coincidence. South + Carolina had bet on her principles, and won from Lin the few dollars that + I had lent the puncher. + </p> + <p> + “And what will you do now?” I said to Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Join the beef round-up. Balaam's payin' forty dollars. I guess that'll + keep a single man.” + </p> + <p> + A JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF CHRISTMAS + </p> + <p> + The Governor descended the steps of the Capitol slowly and with pauses, + lifting a list frequently to his eye. He had intermittently pencilled it + between stages of the forenoon's public business, and his gait grew absent + as he recurred now to his jottings in their accumulation, with a slight + pain at their number, and the definite fear that they would be more in + seasons to come. They were the names of his friends' children to whom his + excellent heart moved him to give Christmas presents. He had put off this + regenerating evil until the latest day, as was his custom, and now he was + setting forth to do the whole thing at a blow, entirely planless among the + guns and rocking-horses that would presently surround him. As he reached + the highway he heard himself familiarly addressed from a distance, and, + turning, saw four sons of the alkali jogging into town from the plain. One + who had shouted to him galloped out from the others, rounded the Capitol's + enclosure, and, approaching with radiant countenance leaned to reach the + hand of the Governor, and once again greeted him with a hilarious “Hello, + Doc!” + </p> + <p> + Governor Barker, M.D., seeing Mr. McLean unexpectedly after several years, + hailed the horseman with frank and lively pleasure, and, inquiring who + might be the other riders behind, was told that they were Shorty, + Chalkeye, and Dollar Bill, come for Christmas. “And dandies to hit town + with,” Mr. McLean added. “Red-hot.” + </p> + <p> + “I am acquainted with them,” assented his Excellency. + </p> + <p> + “We've been ridin' trail for twelve weeks,” the cow-puncher continued, + “makin' our beds down anywheres, and eatin' the same old chuck every day. + So we've shook fried beef and heifer's delight, and we're goin' to feed + high.” + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. McLean overflowed with talk and pungent confidences, for the + holidays already rioted in his spirit, and his tongue was loosed over + their coming rites. + </p> + <p> + “We've soured on scenery,” he finished, in his drastic idiom. “We're sick + of moonlight and cow-dung, and we're heeled for a big time.” + </p> + <p> + “Call on me,” remarked the Governor, cheerily, “when you're ready for + bromides and sulphates.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't box-headed no more,” protested Mr. McLean; “I've got maturity, + Doc, since I seen yu' at the rain-making, and I'm a heap older than them + hospital days when I bust my leg on yu'. Three or four glasses and quit. + That's my rule.” + </p> + <p> + “That your rule, too?” inquired the Governor of Shorty, Chalkeye, and + Dollar Bill. These gentlemen of the saddle were sitting quite + expressionless upon their horses. + </p> + <p> + “We ain't talkin', we're waitin',” observed Chalkeye; and the three cynics + smiled amiably. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Doc, see yu' again,” said Mr. McLean. He turned to accompany his + brother cow-punchers, but in that particular moment Fate descended or came + up from whatever place she dwells in and entered the body of the + unsuspecting Governor. + </p> + <p> + “What's your hurry?” said Fate, speaking in the official's hearty manner. + “Come along with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't do it. Where are yu' goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Christmasing,” replied Fate. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've got to feed my horse. Christmasing, yu' say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I'm buying toys.” + </p> + <p> + “Toys! You? What for?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, some kids.” + </p> + <p> + “Yourn?” screeched Lin, precipitately. + </p> + <p> + His Excellency the jovial Governor opened his teeth in pleasure at this, + for he was a bachelor, and there were fifteen upon his list, which he held + up for the edification of the hasty McLean. “Not mine, I'm happy to say. + My friends keep marrying and settling, and their kids call me uncle, and + climb around and bother, and I forget their names, and think it's a girl, + and the mother gets mad. Why, if I didn't remember these little folks at + Christmas they'd be wondering—not the kids, they just break your + toys and don't notice; but the mother would wonder—'What's the + matter with Dr. Barker? Has Governor Barker gone back on us?'—that's + where the strain comes!” he broke off, facing Mr. McLean with another + spacious laugh. + </p> + <p> + But the cow-puncher had ceased to smile, and now, while Barker ran on + exuberantly, McLean's wide-open eyes rested upon him, singular and intent, + and in their hazel depths the last gleam of jocularity went out. + </p> + <p> + “That's where the strain comes, you see. Two sets of acquaintances. + Grateful patients and loyal voters, and I've got to keep solid with both + outfits, especially the wives and mothers. They're the people. So it's + drums, and dolls, and sheep on wheels, and games, and monkeys on a stick, + and the saleslady shows you a mechanical bear, and it costs too much, and + you forget whether the Judge's second girl is Nellie or Susie, and—well, + I'm just in for my annual circus this afternoon! You're in luck. Christmas + don't trouble a chap fixed like you.” + </p> + <p> + Lin McLean prolonged the sentence like a distant echo. + </p> + <p> + “A chap fixed like you!” The cow-puncher said it slowly to himself. “No, + sure.” He seemed to be watching Shorty, and Chalkeye, and Dollar Bill + going down the road. “That's a new idea—Christmas,” he murmured, for + it was one of his oldest, and he was recalling the Christmas when he wore + his first long trousers. + </p> + <p> + “Comes once a year pretty regular,” remarked the prosperous Governor. + “Seems often when you pay the bill.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't made a Christmas gift,” pursued the cow-puncher, dreamily, “not + for—for—Lord! it's a hundred years, I guess. I don't know + anybody that has any right to look for such a thing from me.” This was + indeed a new idea, and it did not stop the chill that was spreading in his + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Gee whiz!” said Barker, briskly, “there goes twelve o'clock. I've got to + make a start. Sorry you can't come and help me. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + His Excellency left the rider sitting motionless, and forgot him at once + in his own preoccupation. He hastened upon his journey to the shops with + the list, not in his pocket, but held firmly, like a plank in the + imminence of shipwreck. The Nellies and Susies pervaded his mind, and he + struggled with the presentiment that in a day or two he would recall some + omitted and wretchedly important child. Quick hoof-beats made him look up, + and Mr. McLean passed like a wind. The Governor absently watched him go, + and saw the pony hunch and stiffen in the check of his speed when Lin + overtook his companions. Down there in the distance they took a side + street, and Barker rejoicingly remembered one more name and wrote it as he + walked. In a few minutes he had come to the shops, and met face to face + with Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + “The boys are seein' after my horse,” Lin rapidly began, “and I've got to + meet 'em sharp at one. We're twelve weeks shy on a square meal, yu' see, + and this first has been a date from 'way back. I'd like to—” Here + Mr. McLean cleared his throat, and his speech went less smoothly. “Doc, + I'd like just for a while to watch yu' gettin'—them monkeys, yu' + know.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor expressed his agreeable surprise at this change of mind, and + was glad of McLean's company and judgment during the impending selections. + A picture of a cow-puncher and himself discussing a couple of dolls rose + nimbly in Barker's mental eye, and it was with an imperfect honesty that + he said, “You'll help me a heap.” + </p> + <p> + And Lin, quite sincere, replied, “Thank yu'.” + </p> + <p> + So together these two went Christmasing in the throng. Wyoming's Chief + Executive knocked elbows with the spurred and jingling waif, one man as + good as another in that raw, hopeful, full-blooded cattle era, which now + the sobered West remembers as the days of its fond youth. For one man has + been as good as another in three places—Paradise before the Fall; + the Rocky Mountains before the wire fence; and the Declaration of + Independence. And then this Governor, beside being young, almost as young + as Lin McLean or the Chief Justice (who lately had celebrated his + thirty-second birthday), had in his doctoring days at Drybone known the + cow-puncher with that familiarity which lasts a lifetime without breeding + contempt; accordingly he now laid a hand on Lin's tall shoulder and drew + him among the petticoats and toys. + </p> + <p> + Christmas filled the windows and Christmas stirred in mankind. Cheyenne, + not over-zealous in doctrine or litanies, and with the opinion that a + world in the hand is worth two in the bush, nevertheless was flocking + together, neighbor to think of neighbor, and every one to remember the + children; a sacred assembly, after all, gathered to rehearse unwittingly + the articles of its belief, the Creed and Doctrine of the Child. Lin saw + them hurry and smile among the paper fairies; they questioned and + hesitated, crowded and made decisions, failed utterly to find the right + thing, forgot and hastened back, suffered all the various desperations of + the eleventh hour, and turned homeward, dropping their parcels with that + undimmed good-will that once a year makes gracious the universal human + face. This brotherhood swam and beamed before the cow-puncher's brooding + eyes, and in his ears the greeting of the season sang. Children escaped + from their mothers and ran chirping behind the counters to touch and + meddle in places forbidden. Friends dashed against each other with rabbits + and magic lanterns, greeted in haste, and were gone, amid the sound of + musical boxes. + </p> + <p> + Through this tinkle and bleating of little machinery the murmur of the + human heart drifted in and out of McLean's hearing; fragments of home + talk, tendernesses, economies, intimate first names, and dinner hours, and + whether it was joy or sadness, it was in common; the world seemed knit in + a single skein of home ties. Two or three came by whose purses must have + been slender, and whose purchases were humble and chosen after much nice + adjustment; and when one plain man dropped a word about both ends meeting, + and the woman with him laid a hand on his arm, saying that his children + must not feel this year was different, Lin made a step toward them. There + were hours and spots where he could readily have descended upon them at + that, played the role of clinking affluence, waved thanks aside with + competent blasphemy, and tossing off some infamous whiskey, cantered away + in the full self-conscious strut of the frontier. But here was not the + moment; the abashed cow-puncher could make no such parade in this place. + The people brushed by him back and forth, busy upon their errands, and + aware of him scarcely more than if he had been a spirit looking on from + the helpless dead; and so, while these weaving needs and kindnesses of man + were within arm's touch of him, he was locked outside with his impulses. + Barker had, in the natural press of customers, long parted from him, to + become immersed in choosing and rejecting; and now, with a fair part of + his mission accomplished, he was ready to go on to the next place, and + turned to beckon McLean. He found him obliterated in a corner beside a + life-sized image of Santa Claus, standing as still as the frosty saint. + </p> + <p> + “He looks livelier than you do,” said the hearty Governor. “'Fraid it's + been slow waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the cow-puncher, thoughtfully. “No, I guess not.” + </p> + <p> + This uncertainty was expressed with such gentleness that Barker roared. + “You never did lie to me,” he said, “long as I've known you. Well, never + mind. I've got some real advice to ask you now.” + </p> + <p> + At this Mr. McLean's face grew more alert. “Say Doc,” said he, “what do + yu' want for Christmas that nobody's likely to give yu'?” + </p> + <p> + “A big practice—big enough to interfere with my politics.” + </p> + <p> + “What else? Things and truck, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—nothing I'll get. People don't give things much to fellows like + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't they? Don't they?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you and Santa Claus weren't putting up any scheme on my stocking?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you're in earnest!” cried his Excellency. “That's simply rich!” + Here was a thing to relish! The Frontier comes to town “heeled for a big + time,” finds that presents are all the rage, and must immediately give + somebody something. Oh, childlike, miscellaneous Frontier! So thought the + good-hearted Governor; and it seems a venial misconception. “My dear + fellow,” he added, meaning as well as possible, “I don't want you to spend + your money on me.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got plenty all right,” said Lin, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty's not the point. I'll take as many drinks as you please with you. + You didn't expect anything from me?” + </p> + <p> + “That ain't—that don't—” + </p> + <p> + “There! Of course you didn't. Then, what are you getting proud about? + Here's our shop.” They stepped in from the street to new crowds and + counters. “Now,” pursued the Governor, “this is for a very particular + friend of mine. Here they are. Now, which of those do you like best?” + </p> + <p> + They were sets of Tennyson in cases holding little volumes equal in + number, but the binding various, and Mr. McLean reached his decision after + one look. “That,” said he, and laid a large muscular hand upon the + Laureate. The young lady behind the counter spoke out acidly, and Lin + pulled the abject hand away. His taste, however, happened to be sound, or, + at least, it was at one with the Governor's; but now they learned that + there was a distressing variance in the matter of price. + </p> + <p> + The Governor stared at the delicate article of his choice. “I know that + Tennyson is what she—is what's wanted,” he muttered; and, feeling + himself nudged, looked around and saw Lin's extended fist. This gesture he + took for a facetious sympathy, and, dolorously grasping the hand, found + himself holding a lump of bills. Sheer amazement relaxed him, and the + cow-puncher's matted wealth tumbled on the floor in sight of all people. + Barker picked it up and gave it back. “No, no, no!” he said, mirthful over + his own inclination to be annoyed; “you can't do that. I'm just as much + obliged, Lin,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Just as a loan, Doc—some of it. I'm grass-bellied with spot-cash.” + </p> + <p> + A giggle behind the counter disturbed them both, but the sharp young lady + was only dusting. The Governor at once paid haughtily for Tennyson's + expensive works, and the cow-puncher pushed his discountenanced savings + back into his clothes. Making haste to leave the book department of this + shop, they regained a mutual ease, and the Governor became waggish over + Lin's concern at being too rich. He suggested to him the list of + delinquent taxpayers and the latest census from which to select indigent + persons. He had patients, too, whose inveterate pennilessness he could + swear cheerfully to—“since you want to bolt from your own money,” he + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'm a green horse,” assented Mr. McLean, gallantly; “ain't used to + the looks of a twenty-dollar bill, and I shy at 'em.” + </p> + <p> + From his face—that jocular mask—one might have counted him the + most serene and careless of vagrants, and in his words only the ordinary + voice of banter spoke to the Governor. A good woman, it may well be, would + have guessed before this the sensitive soul in the blundering body, but + Barker saw just the familiar, whimsical, happy-go-lucky McLean of old + days, and so he went gayly and innocently on, treading upon holy ground. + “I've got it!” he exclaimed; “give your wife something.” + </p> + <p> + The ruddy cow-puncher grinned. He had passed through the world of woman + with but few delays, rejoicing in informal and transient entanglements, + and he welcomed the turn which the conversation seemed now to be taking. + “If you'll give me her name and address,” said he, with the future + entirely in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Laramie!” and the Governor feigned surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Doc,” said Lin, uneasily, “none of 'em ain't married me since I saw + yu' last.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she hasn't written from Laramie,” said the hilarious Governor, and + Mr. McLean understood and winced in his spirit deep down. “Gee whiz!” went + on Barker, “I'll never forget you and Lusk that day!” + </p> + <p> + But the mask fell now. “You're talking of his wife, not mine,” said the + cow-puncher very quietly, and smiling no more; “and, Doc, I'm going to say + a word to yu', for I know yu've always been my good friend. I'll never + forget that day myself—but I don't want to be reminded of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a fool, Lin,” said the Governor, generous instantly. “I never + supposed—” + </p> + <p> + “I know yu' didn't, Doc. It ain't you that's the fool. And in a way—in + a way—” Lin's speech ended among his crowding memories, and Barker, + seeing how wistful his face had turned, waited. “But I ain't quite the + same fool I was before that happened to me,” the cow-puncher resumed, + “though maybe my actions don't show to be wiser. I know that there was + better luck than a man like me had any call to look for.” + </p> + <p> + The sobered Barker said, simply, “Yes, Lin.” He was put to thinking by + these words from the unsuspected inner man. + </p> + <p> + Out in the Bow Leg country Lin McLean had met a woman with thick, red + cheeks, calling herself by a maiden name; and this was his whole knowledge + of her when he put her one morning astride a Mexican saddle and took her + fifty miles to a magistrate and made her his lawful wife to the best of + his ability and belief. His sage-brush intimates were confident he would + never have done it but for a rival. Racing the rival and beating him had + swept Mr. McLean past his own intentions, and the marriage was an + inadvertence. “He jest bumped into it before he could pull up,” they + explained; and this casualty, resulting from Mr. McLean's sporting blood, + had entertained several hundred square miles of alkali. For the new-made + husband the joke soon died. In the immediate weeks that came upon him he + tasted a bitterness worse than in all his life before, and learned also + how deep the woman, when once she begins, can sink beneath the man in + baseness. That was a knowledge of which he had lived innocent until this + time. But he carried his outward self serenely, so that citizens in + Cheyenne who saw the cow-puncher with his bride argued shrewdly that men + of that sort liked women of that sort; and before the strain had broken + his endurance an unexpected first husband, named Lusk, had appeared one + Sunday in the street, prosperous, forgiving, and exceedingly drunk. To the + arms of Lusk she went back in the public street, deserting McLean in the + presence of Cheyenne; and when Cheyenne saw this, and learned how she had + been Mrs. Lusk for eight long, if intermittent, years, Cheyenne laughed + loudly. Lin McLean laughed, too, and went about his business, ready to + swagger at the necessary moment, and with the necessary kind of joke + always ready to shield his hurt spirit. And soon, of course, the matter + grew stale, seldom raked up in the Bow Leg country where Lin had been at + work; so lately he had begun to remember other things beside the + smouldering humiliation. + </p> + <p> + “Is she with him?” he asked Barker, and musingly listened while Barker + told him. The Governor had thought to make it a racy story, with the moral + that the joke was now on Lusk; but that inner man had spoken and revealed + the cow-puncher to him in a new and complicated light; hence he quieted + the proposed lively cadence and vocabulary of his anecdote about the house + of Lusk, but instead of narrating how Mrs. beat Mr. on Mondays, + Wednesdays, and Fridays, and Mr. took his turn the odd days, thus getting + one ahead of his lady, while the kid Lusk had outlined his opinion of the + family by recently skipping to parts unknown, Barker detailed these + incidents more gravely, adding that Laramie believed Mrs. Lusk addicted to + opium. + </p> + <p> + “I don't guess I'll leave my card on 'em,” said McLean, grimly, “if I + strike Laramie.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mind my saying I think you're well out of that scrape?” Barker + ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Shucks, no! That's all right, Doc. Only—yu' see now. A man gets + tired pretending—onced in a while.” + </p> + <p> + Time had gone while they were in talk, and it was now half after one and + Mr. McLean late for that long-plotted first square meal. So the friends + shook hands, wishing each other Merry Christmas, and the cow-puncher + hastened toward his chosen companions through the stirring cheerfulness of + the season. His play-hour had made a dull beginning among the toys. He had + come upon people engaged in a pleasant game, and waited, shy and well + disposed, for some bidding to join, but they had gone on playing with each + other and left him out. And now he went along in a sort of hurry to escape + from that loneliness where his human promptings had been lodged with him + useless. Here was Cheyenne, full of holiday for sale, and he with his + pockets full of money to buy; and when he thought of Shorty, and Chalkeye, + and Dollar Bill, those dandies to hit a town with, he stepped out with a + brisk, false hope. It was with a mental hurrah and a foretaste of a good + time coming that he put on his town clothes, after shaving and admiring + himself, and sat down to the square meal. He ate away and drank with a + robust imitation of enjoyment that took in even himself at first. But the + sorrowful process of his spirit went on, for all he could do. As he groped + for the contentment which he saw around him he began to receive the jokes + with counterfeit mirth. Memories took the place of anticipation, and + through their moody shiftings he began to feel a distaste for the company + of his friends and a shrinking from their lively voices. He blamed them + for this at once. He was surprised to think he had never recognized before + how light a weight was Shorty; and here was Chalkeye, who knew better, + talking religion after two glasses. Presently this attack of noticing his + friends' shortcomings mastered him, and his mind, according to its wont, + changed at a stroke. “I'm celebrating no Christmas with this crowd,” said + the inner man; and when they had next remembered Lin McLean in their + hilarity he was gone. + </p> + <p> + Governor Barker, finishing his purchases at half-past three, went to meet + a friend come from Evanston. Mr. McLean was at the railway station, buying + a ticket for Denver. + </p> + <p> + “Denver!” exclaimed the amazed Governor. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I said,” stated Mr. McLean, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “Gee whiz!” went his Excellency. “What are you going to do there?” + </p> + <p> + “Get good and drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't you find enough whiskey in Cheyenne?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm drinking champagne this trip.” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher went out on the platform and got aboard, and the train + moved off. Barker had walked out too in his surprise, and as he stared + after the last car, Mr. McLean waved his wide hat defiantly and went + inside the door. + </p> + <p> + “And he says he's got maturity,” Barker muttered. “I've known him since + seventy-nine, and he's kept about eight years old right along.” The + Governor was cross, and sorry, and presently crosser. His jokes about + Lin's marriage came back to him and put him in a rage with the departed + fool. “Yes, about eight. Or six,” said his Excellency, justifying himself + by the past. For he had first known Lin, the boy of nineteen, supreme in + length of limb and recklessness, breaking horses and feeling for an early + mustache. Next, when the mustache was nearly accomplished, he had mended + the boy's badly broken thigh at Drybone. His skill (and Lin's utter + health) had wrought so swift a healing that the surgeon overflowed with + the pride of science, and over the bandages would explain the human body + technically to his wild-eyed and flattered patient. Thus young Lin heard + all about tibia, and comminuted, and other glorious new words, and when + sleepless would rehearse them. Then, with the bone so nearly knit that the + patient might leave the ward on crutches to sit each morning in Barker's + room as a privilege, the disobedient child of twenty-one had slipped out + of the hospital and hobbled hastily to the hog ranch, where whiskey and + variety waited for a languishing convalescent. Here he grew gay, and was + soon carried back with the leg refractured. Yet Barker's surgical rage was + disarmed, the patient was so forlorn over his doctor's professional + chagrin. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it ain't no better this morning, Doc?” he had said, humbly, + after a new week of bed and weights. + </p> + <p> + “Your right leg's going to be shorter. That's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, gosh! I've been and spoiled your comminuted fee-mur! Ain't I a + son-of-a-gun?” + </p> + <p> + You could not chide such a boy as this; and in time's due course he had + walked jauntily out into the world with legs of equal length after all and + in his stride the slightest halt possible. And Doctor Barker had missed + the child's conversation. To-day his mustache was a perfected thing, and + he in the late end of his twenties. + </p> + <p> + “He'll wake up about noon to-morrow in a dive, without a cent,” said + Barker. “Then he'll come back on a freight and begin over again.” + </p> + <p> + At the Denver station Lin McLean passed through the shoutings and + omnibuses, and came to the beginning of Seventeenth Street, where is the + first saloon. A customer was ordering Hot Scotch; and because he liked the + smell and had not thought of the mixture for a number of years, Lin took + Hot Scotch. Coming out upon the pavement, he looked across and saw a + saloon opposite with brighter globes and windows more prosperous. That + should have been his choice; lemon peel would undoubtedly be fresher over + there; and over he went at once, to begin the whole thing properly. In + such frozen weather no drink could be more timely, and he sat, to enjoy + without haste its mellow fitness. Once again on the pavement, he looked + along the street toward up-town beneath the crisp, cold electric lights, + and three little bootblacks gathered where he stood and cried “Shine? + Shine?” at him. Remembering that you took the third turn to the right to + get the best dinner in Denver, Lin hit on the skilful plan of stopping at + all Hot Scotches between; but the next occurred within a few yards, and it + was across the street. This one being attained and appreciated, he found + that he must cross back again or skip number four. At this rate he would + not be dining in time to see much of the theatre, and he stopped to + consider. It was a German place he had just quitted, and a huge light + poured out on him from its window, which the proprietor's father-land + sentiment had made into a show. Lights shone among a well-set pine forest, + where beery, jovial gnomes sat on roots and reached upward to Santa Claus; + he, grinning, fat, and Teutonic, held in his right hand forever a foaming + glass, and forever in his left a string of sausages that dangled down + among the gnomes. With his American back to this, the cow-puncher, wearing + the same serious, absent face he had not changed since he ran away from + himself at Cheyenne, considered carefully the Hot Scotch question, and + which side of the road to take and stick to, while the little bootblacks + found him once more and cried, “Shine? Shine?” monotonous as snow-birds. + He settled to stay over here with the south-side Scotches, and the little + one-note song reaching his attention, he suddenly shoved his foot at the + nearest boy, who lightly sprang away. + </p> + <p> + “Dare you to touch him!” piped a snow-bird, dangerously. They were in + short trousers, and the eldest enemy, it may be, was ten. + </p> + <p> + “Don't hit me,” said Mr. McLean “I'm innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you leave him be,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “What's he layin' to kick you for, Billy? 'Tain't yer pop, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “New!” said Billy, in scorn. “Father never kicked me. Don't know who he + is.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a special!” shrilled the leading bird, sensationally. “He's got a + badge, and he's goin' to arrest yer.” + </p> + <p> + Two of them hopped instantly to the safe middle of the street, and + scattered with practiced strategy; but Billy stood his ground. “Dare you + to arrest me!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “What'll you give me not to?” inquired Lin, and he put his hands in his + pockets, arms akimbo. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing; I've done nothing,” announced Billy, firmly. But even in the + last syllable his voice suddenly failed, a terror filled his eyes, and he, + too, sped into the middle of the street. + </p> + <p> + “What's he claim you lifted?” inquired the leader, with eagerness. “Tell + him you haven't been inside a store to-day. We can prove it!” they + screamed to the special officer. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” said the slow-spoken Lin from the pavement, “you're poor judges of + a badge, you fellows.” + </p> + <p> + His tone pleased them where they stood, wide apart from each other. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean also remained stationary in the bluish illumination of the + window. “Why, if any policeman was caught wearin' this here,” said he, + following his sprightly invention, “he'd get arrested himself.” + </p> + <p> + This struck them extremely. They began to draw together, Billy lingering + the last. + </p> + <p> + “If it's your idea,” pursued Mr. McLean, alluringly, as the three took + cautious steps nearer the curb, “that blue, clasped hands in a circle of + red stars gives the bearer the right to put folks in the jug—why, + I'll get somebody else to black my boots for a dollar.” + </p> + <p> + The three made a swift rush, fell on simultaneous knees, and clattering + their boxes down, began to spit in an industrious circle. + </p> + <p> + “Easy!” wheedled Mr. McLean, and they looked up at him, staring and + fascinated. “Not having three feet,” said the cow-puncher, always grave + and slow, “I can only give two this here job.” + </p> + <p> + “He's got a big pistol and a belt!” exulted the leader, who had + precociously felt beneath Lin's coat. + </p> + <p> + “You're a smart boy,” said Lin, considering him, “and yu' find a man out + right away. Now you stand off and tell me all about myself while they fix + the boots—and a dollar goes to the quickest through.” + </p> + <p> + Young Billy and his tow-headed competitor flattened down, each to a boot, + with all their might, while the leader ruefully contemplated Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + “That's a Colt.45 you've got,” ventured he. + </p> + <p> + “Right again. Some day, maybe, you'll be wearing one of your own, if the + angels don't pull yu' before you're ripe.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm through!” sang out Towhead, rising in haste. + </p> + <p> + Small Billy was struggling still, but leaped at that, the two heads + bobbing to a level together; and Mr. McLean, looking down, saw that the + arrangement had not been a good one for the boots. + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly referee,” said he, forgivingly, to the leader, “and + decide which of them smears is the awfulest?” + </p> + <p> + But the leader looked the other way and played upon a mouth-organ. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that saves me money,” said Mr. McLean, jingling his pocket. “I + guess you've both won.” He handed each of them a dollar. “Now,” he + continued, “I just dassent show these boots uptown; so this time it's a + dollar for the best shine.” + </p> + <p> + The two went palpitating at their brushes again, and the leader played his + mouth-organ with brilliant unconcern. Lin, tall and brooding leaned + against the jutting sill of the window, a figure somehow plainly strange + in town, while through the bright plate-glass Santa Claus, holding out his + beer and sausages, perpetually beamed. + </p> + <p> + Billy was laboring gallantly, but it was labor, the cow-puncher perceived, + and Billy no seasoned expert. “See here,” said Lin, stooping, “I'll show + yu' how it's done. He's playin' that toon cross-eyed enough to steer + anybody crooked. There. Keep your blacking soft, and work with a dry + brush.” + </p> + <p> + “Lemme,” said Billy. “I've got to learn.” So he finished the boot his own + way with wiry determination, breathing and repolishing; and this event was + also adjudged a dead heat, with results gratifying to both parties. So + here was their work done, and more money in their pockets than from all + the other boots and shoes of this day; and Towhead and Billy did not wish + for further trade, but to spend this handsome fortune as soon as might be. + Yet they delayed in the brightness of the window, drawn by curiosity near + this new kind of man whose voice held them and whose remarks dropped them + into constant uncertainty. Even the omitted leader had been unable to go + away and nurse his pride alone. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a secret society?” inquired Towhead, lifting a finger at the + badge. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean nodded. “Turruble,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “You're a Wells & Fargo detective,” asserted the leader. + </p> + <p> + “Play your harp,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a—a desperaydo?” whispered Towhead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my!” observed Mr. McLean, sadly; “what has our Jack been readin'?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a cattle-man!” cried Billy. “I seen his heels.” + </p> + <p> + “That's you!” said the discovered puncher, with approval. “You'll do. But + I bet you can't tell me what we wearers of this badge have sworn to do + this night.” + </p> + <p> + At this they craned their necks and glared at him. + </p> + <p> + “We—are—sworn—don't yu' jump, now, and give me away—sworn—to—blow + off three bootblacks to a dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, pshaw!” They backed away, bristling with distrust. + </p> + <p> + “That's the oath, fellows. Yu' may as well make your minds up—for I + have it to do!” + </p> + <p> + “Dare you to! Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “And after dinner it's the Opera-house, to see 'The Children of Captain + Cant'!” + </p> + <p> + They screamed shrilly at him, keeping off beyond the curb. + </p> + <p> + “I can't waste my time on such smart boys,” said Mr. McLean, rising lazily + to his full height from the window-sill. “I am goin' somewhere to find + boys that ain't so turruble quick stampeded by a roast turkey.” + </p> + <p> + He began to lounge slowly away, serious as he had been throughout, and + they, stopping their noise short, swiftly picked up their boxes, and + followed him. Some change in the current of electricity that fed the + window disturbed its sparkling light, so that Santa Claus, with his arms + stretched out behind the departing cow-puncher seemed to be smiling more + broadly from the midst of his flickering brilliance. + </p> + <p> + On their way to turkey, the host and his guests exchanged but few remarks. + He was full of good-will, and threw off a comment or two that would have + led to conversation under almost any circumstances save these; but the + minds of the guests were too distracted by this whole state of things for + them to be capable of more than keeping after Mr. McLean in silence, at a + wary interval, and with their mouths, during most of the journey, open. + The badge, the pistol, their patron's talk, and the unusual dollars, + wakened wide their bent for the unexpected, their street affinity for the + spur of the moment; they believed slimly in the turkey part of it, but + what this man might do next, to be there when he did it, and not to be + trapped, kept their wits jumping deliciously; so when they saw him stop, + they stopped instantly too, ten feet out of reach. This was Denver's most + civilized restaurant—that one which Mr. McLean had remembered, with + foreign dishes and private rooms, where he had promised himself, among + other things, champagne. Mr. McLean had never been inside it, but heard a + tale from a friend; and now he caught a sudden sight of people among + geraniums, with plumes and white shirt-fronts, very elegant. It must have + been several minutes that he stood contemplating the entrance and the + luxurious couples who went in. + </p> + <p> + “Plumb French!” he observed at length; and then, “Shucks!” in a key less + confident, while his guests ten feet away watched him narrowly. “They're + eatin' patty de parley-voo in there,” he muttered, and the three + bootblacks came beside him. “Say, fellows,” said Lin, confidingly, “I + wasn't raised good enough for them dude dishes. What do yu' say! I'm after + a place where yu' can mention oyster stoo without givin' anybody a fit. + What do yu' say, boys?” + </p> + <p> + That lighted the divine spark of brotherhood! + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you come along with us—we'll take yer! You don't want to go in + there. We'll show yer the boss place in Market Street. We won't lose yer.” + So, shouting together in their shrill little city trebles, they clustered + about him, and one pulled at his coat to start him. He started obediently, + and walked in their charge, they leading the way. + </p> + <p> + “Christmas is comin' now, sure,” said Lin, grinning to himself. “It ain't + exactly what I figured on.” It was the first time he had laughed since + Cheyenne, and he brushed a hand over his eyes, that were dim with the new + warmth in his heart. + </p> + <p> + Believing at length in him and his turkey, the alert street faces, so + suspicious of the unknown, looked at him with ready intimacy as they went + along; and soon, in the friendly desire to make him acquainted with + Denver, the three were patronizing him. Only Billy, perhaps, now and then + stole at him a doubtful look. + </p> + <p> + The large Country Mouse listened solemnly to his three Town Mice, who + presently introduced him to the place in Market Street. It was not boss, + precisely, and Denver knows better neighborhoods; but the turkey and the + oyster stew were there, with catsup and vegetables in season, and several + choices of pie. Here the Country Mouse became again efficient; and to + witness his liberal mastery of ordering and imagine his pocket and its + wealth, which they had heard and partly seen, renewed in the guests a + transient awe. As they dined, however, and found the host as frankly + ravenous as themselves, this reticence evaporated, and they all grew + fluent with oaths and opinions. At one or two words, indeed, Mr. McLean + stared and had a slight sense of blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Have a cigarette?” said the leader, over his pie. + </p> + <p> + “Thank yu',” said Lin. “I won't smoke, if yu'll excuse me.” He had devised + a wholesome meal, with water to drink. + </p> + <p> + “Chewin's no good at meals,” continued the boy. “Don't you use tobaccer?” + </p> + <p> + “Onced in a while.” + </p> + <p> + The leader spat brightly. “He ain't learned yet,” said he, slanting his + elbows at Billy and sliding a match over his rump. “But beer, now—I + never seen anything in it.” He and Towhead soon left Billy and his callow + profanities behind, and engaged in a town conversation that silenced him, + and set him listening with all his admiring young might. Nor did Mr. + McLean join in the talk, but sat embarrassed by this knowledge, which + seemed about as much as he knew himself. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be goshed,” he thought, “if I'd caught on to half that when I was + streakin' around in short pants! Maybe they grow up quicker now.” But now + the Country Mouse perceived Billy's eager and attentive apprenticeship. + “Hello, boys!” he said, “that theatre's got a big start on us.” + </p> + <p> + They had all forgotten he had said anything about theatre, and other + topics left their impatient minds, while the Country Mouse paid the bill + and asked to be guided to the Opera-house. “This man here will look out + for your blackin' and truck, and let yu' have it in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + They were very late. The spectacle had advanced far into passages of the + highest thrill, and Denver's eyes were riveted upon a ship and some + icebergs. The party found its seats during several beautiful lime-light + effects, and that remarkable fly-buzzing of violins which is pronounced so + helpful in times of peril and sentiment. The children of Captain Grant had + been tracking their father all over the equator and other scenic spots, + and now the north pole was about to impale them. The Captain's youngest + child, perceiving a hummock rushing at them with a sudden motion, loudly + shouted, “Sister, the ice is closing in!” and she replied, chastely, “Then + let us pray.” It was a superb tableau: the ice split, and the sun rose and + joggled at once to the zenith. The act-drop fell, and male Denver, wrung + to its religious deeps, went out to the rum-shop. + </p> + <p> + Of course Mr. McLean and his party did not do this. The party had + applauded exceedingly the defeat of the elements, and the leader, with + Towhead, discussed the probable chances of the ship's getting farther + south in the next act. Until lately Billy's doubt of the cow-puncher had + lingered; but during this intermission whatever had been holding out in + him seemed won, and in his eyes, that he turned stealthily upon his + unconscious, quiet neighbor, shone the beginnings of hero-worship. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think this is splendid?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid,” Lin replied, a trifle remotely. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you like it when they all get balled up and get out that way?” + </p> + <p> + “Humming,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you guess it's just girls, though, that do that?” + </p> + <p> + “What, young fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, all that prayer-saying an' stuff.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess it must be.” + </p> + <p> + “She said to do it when the ice scared her, an' of course a man had to do + what she wanted him.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, do you believe they'd 'a' done it if she hadn't been on that boat, + and clung around an' cried an' everything, an' made her friends feel bad?” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly expect they would,” replied the honest Lin, and then, suddenly + mindful of Billy, “except there wasn't nothin' else they could think of,” + he added, wishing to speak favorably of the custom. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that chunk of ice weren't so awful big anyhow. I'd 'a' shoved her + off with a pole. Wouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Butted her like a ram,” exclaimed Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't say my prayers any more. I told Mr. Perkins I wasn't + a-going to, an' he—I think he is a flubdub anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet he is!” said Lin, sympathetically. He was scarcely a prudent + guardian. + </p> + <p> + “I told him straight, an' he looked at me an' down he flops on his knees. + An' he made 'em all flop, but I told him I didn't care for them putting up + any camp-meeting over me; an' he says, 'I'll lick you,' an' I says, 'Dare + you to!' I told him mother kep' a-licking me for nothing, an' I'd not pray + for her, not in Sunday-school or anywheres else. Do you pray much?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Lin, uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “There! I told him a man didn't, an' he said then a man went to hell. 'You + lie; father ain't going to hell,' I says, and you'd ought to heard the + first class laugh right out loud, girls an' boys. An' he was that mad! But + I didn't care. I came here with fifty cents.” + </p> + <p> + “Yu' must have felt like a millionaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I felt all right! I bought papers an' sold 'em, an' got more an' + saved, ant got my box an' blacking outfit. I weren't going to be licked by + her just because she felt like it, an' she feeling like it most any time. + Lemme see your pistol.” + </p> + <p> + “You wait,” said Lin. “After this show is through I'll put it on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you, honest? Belt an' everything? Did you ever shoot a bear?” + </p> + <p> + “Lord! lots.” + </p> + <p> + “Honest? Silver-tips?” + </p> + <p> + “Silver-tips, cinnamon, black; and I roped a cub onced.” + </p> + <p> + “O-h! I never shot a bear.” + </p> + <p> + “You'd ought to try it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a-going to. I'm a-going to camp out in the mountains. I'd like to see + you when you camp. I'd like to camp with you. Mightn't I some time?” Billy + had drawn nearer to Lin, and was looking up at him adoringly. + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” said Lin; and though he did not, perhaps, entirely mean this, + it was with a curiously softened face that he began to look at Billy. As + with dogs and his horse, so always he played with what children he met—the + few in his sage-brush world; but this was ceasing to be quite play for + him, and his hand went to the boy's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Father took me camping with him once, the time mother was off. Father + gets awful drunk, too. I've quit Laramie for good.” + </p> + <p> + Lin sat up, and his hand gripped the boy. “Laramie!” said he, almost + shouting it. “Yu'—yu'—is your name Lusk?” + </p> + <p> + But the boy had shrunk from him instantly. “You're not going to take me + home?” he piteously wailed. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven and heavens!” murmured Lin McLean. “So you're her kid!” + </p> + <p> + He relaxed again, down in his chair, his legs stretched their straight + length below the chair in front. He was waked from his bewilderment by a + brushing under him, and there was young Billy diving for escape to the + aisle, like the cornered city mouse that he was. Lin nipped that poor + little attempt and had the limp Billy seated inside again before the two + in discussion beyond had seen anything. He had said not a word to the boy, + and now watched his unhappy eyes seizing upon the various exits and + dispositions of the theatre; nor could he imagine anything to tell him + that should restore the perished confidence. “Why did yu' lead him off?” + he asked himself unexpectedly, and found that he did not seem to know; but + as he watched the restless and estranged runaway he grew more and more + sorrowful. “I just hate him to think that of me,” he reflected. The + curtain rose, and he saw Billy make up his mind to wait until they should + all be going out in the crowd. While the children of Captain Grant grew + hotter and hotter upon their father's geographic trail, Lin sat saying to + himself a number of contradictions. “He's nothing to me; what's any of + them to me?” Driven to bay by his bewilderment, he restated the facts of + the past. “Why, she'd deserted him and Lusk before she'd ever laid eyes on + me. I needn't to bother myself. He wasn't never even my step-kid.” The + past, however, brought no guidance. “Lord, what's the thing to do about + this? If I had any home—This is a stinkin' world in some respects,” + said Mr. McLean, aloud, unknowingly. The lady in the chair beneath which + the cow-puncher had his legs nudged her husband. They took it for emotion + over the sad fortune of Captain Grant, and their backs shook. Presently + each turned, and saw the singular man with untamed, wide-open eyes + glowering at the stage, and both backs shook again. + </p> + <p> + Once more his hand was laid on Billy. “Say!” The boy glanced at him, and + quickly away. + </p> + <p> + “Look at me, and listen.” + </p> + <p> + Billy swervingly obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't after yu', and never was. This here's your business, not mine. + Are yu' listenin' good?” + </p> + <p> + The boy made a nod, and Lin proceeded, whispering: “You've got no call to + believe what I say to yu'—yu've been lied to, I guess, pretty often. + So I'll not stop yu' runnin' and hidin', and I'll never give it away I saw + yu', but yu' keep doin' what yu' please. I'll just go now. I've saw all I + want, but you and your friends stay with it till it quits. If yu' happen + to wish to speak to me about that pistol or bears, yu' come around to + Smith's Palace—that's the boss hotel here, ain't it?—and if + yu' don't come too late I'll not be gone to bed. But this time of night + I'm liable to get sleepy. Tell your friends good-bye for me, and be good + to yourself. I've appreciated your company.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean entered Smith's Palace, and, engaging a room with two beds in + it, did a little delicate lying by means of the truth. “It's a lost boy—a + runaway,” he told the clerk. “He'll not be extra clean, I expect, if he + does come. Maybe he'll give me the slip, and I'll have a job cut out + to-morrow. I'll thank yu' to put my money in your safe.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk placed himself at the disposal of the secret service, and Lin + walked up and down, looking at the railroad photographs for some ten + minutes, when Master Billy peered in from the street. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” said Mr. McLean, casually, and returned to a fine picture of + Pike's Peak. + </p> + <p> + Billy observed him for a space, and, receiving no further attention, came + stepping along. “I'm not a-going back to Laramie,” he stated, warningly. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't,” said Lin. “It ain't half the town Denver is. Well, + good-night. Sorry yu' couldn't call sooner—I'm dead sleepy.” + </p> + <p> + “O-h!” Billy stood blank. “I wish I'd shook the darned old show. Say, + lemme black your boots in the morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Not sure my train don't go too early.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm up! I'm up! I get around to all of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do yu' sleep?” + </p> + <p> + “Sleeping with the engine-man now. Why can't you put that on me to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Goin' up-stairs. This gentleman wouldn't let you go up-stairs.” + </p> + <p> + But the earnestly petitioned clerk consented, and Billy was the first to + hasten into the room. He stood rapturous while Lin buckled the belt round + his scanty stomach, and ingeniously buttoned the suspenders outside the + accoutrement to retard its immediate descent to earth. + </p> + <p> + “Did it ever kill a man?” asked Billy, touching the six-shooter. + </p> + <p> + “No. It ain't never had to do that, but I expect maybe it's stopped some + killin' me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, leave me wear it just a minute! Do you collect arrow-heads? I think + they're bully. There's the finest one you ever seen.” He brought out the + relic, tightly wrapped in paper, several pieces. “I foun' it myself, + camping with father. It was sticking in a crack right on top of a rock, + but nobody'd seen it till I came along. Ain't it fine?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean pronounced it a gem. + </p> + <p> + “Father an' me found a lot, an' they made mother mad laying around, an' + she throwed 'em out. She takes stuff from Kelley's.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's Kelley?” + </p> + <p> + “He keeps the drug-store at Laramie. Mother gets awful funny. That's how + she was when I came home. For I told Mr. Perkins he lied, an' I ran then. + An' I knowed well enough she'd lick me when she got through her spell—an' + father can't stop her, an' I—ah, I was sick of it! She's lamed me up + twice beating me—an' Perkins wanting me to say 'God bless my + mother!' a-getting up and a-going to bed—he's a flubdub! An' so I + cleared out. But I'd just as leaves said for God to bless father—an' + you. I'll do it now if you say it's any sense.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean sat down in a chair. “Don't yu' do it now,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't like mother,” Billy continued. “You can keep that.” He came + to Lin and placed the arrow-head in his hands, standing beside him. “Do + you like birds' eggs? I collect them. I got twenty-five kinds—sage-hen, + an' blue grouse, an' willow-grouse, an' lots more kinds harder—but I + couldn't bring all them from Laramie. I brought the magpie's, though. D' + you care to see a magpie egg? Well, you stay to-morrow an' I'll show you + that en' some other things I got the engine-man lets me keep there, for + there's boys that would steal an egg. An' I could take you where we could + fire that pistol. Bet you don't know what that is!” + </p> + <p> + He brought out a small tin box shaped like a thimble, in which were things + that rattled. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean gave it up. + </p> + <p> + “That's kinni-kinnic seed. You can have that, for I got some more with the + engine-man.” + </p> + <p> + Lin received this second token also, and thanked the giver for it. His + first feeling had been to prevent the boy's parting with his treasures, + but something that came not from the polish of manners and experience made + him know that he should take them. Billy talked away, laying bare his + little soul; the street boy that was not quite come made place for the + child that was not quite gone, and unimportant words and confidences + dropped from him disjointed as he climbed to the knee of Mr. McLean, and + inadvertently took that cow-puncher for some sort of parent he had not + hitherto met. It lasted but a short while, however, for he went to sleep + in the middle of a sentence, with his head upon Lin's breast. The man held + him perfectly still, because he had not the faintest notion that Billy + would be impossible to disturb. At length he spoke to him, suggesting that + bed might prove more comfortable; and, finding how it was, rose and + undressed the boy and laid him between the sheets. The arms and legs + seemed aware of the moves required of them, and stirred conveniently; and + directly the head was upon the pillow the whole small frame burrowed down, + without the opening of an eye or a change in the breathing. Lin stood some + time by the bedside, with his eyes on the long, curling lashes and the + curly hair. Then he glanced craftily at the door of the room, and at + himself in the looking-glass. He stooped and kissed Billy on the forehead, + and, rising from that, gave himself a hangdog stare in the mirror, and + soon in his own bed was sleeping the sound sleep of health. + </p> + <p> + He was faintly roused by the church bells, and lay still, lingering with + his sleep, his eyes closed, and his thoughts unshaped. As he became slowly + aware of the morning, the ringing and the light reached him, and he waked + wholly, and, still lying quiet, considered the strange room filled with + the bells and the sun of the winter's day. “Where have I struck now?” he + inquired; and as last night returned abruptly upon his mind, he raised + himself on his arm. + </p> + <p> + There sat Responsibility in a chair, washed clean and dressed, watching + him. + </p> + <p> + “You're awful late,” said Responsibility. “But I weren't a-going without + telling you good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Go?” exclaimed Lin. “Go where? Yu' surely ain't leavin' me to eat + breakfast alone?” The cow-puncher made his voice very plaintive. Set + Responsibility free after all his trouble to catch him? This was more than + he could do! + </p> + <p> + “I've got to go. If I'd thought you'd want for me to stay—why, you + said you was a-going by the early train!” + </p> + <p> + “But the durned thing's got away on me,” said Lin, smiling sweetly from + the bed. + </p> + <p> + “If I hadn't a-promised them—” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Sidney Ellis and Pete Goode. Why, you know them; you grubbed with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Shucks!” + </p> + <p> + “We're a-going to have fun to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “For it's Christmas, an' we've bought some good cigars, an' Pete says + he'll learn me sure. O' course I've smoked some, you know. But I'd just as + leaves stayed with you if I'd only knowed sooner. I wish you lived here. + Did you smoke whole big cigars when you was beginning?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like flapjacks and maple syrup?” inquired the artful McLean. + “That's what I'm figuring on inside twenty minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty minutes! If they'd wait—” + </p> + <p> + “See here, Bill. They've quit expecting yu', don't yu' think? I'd ought to + waked, yu' see, but I slep' and slep', and kep' yu' from meetin' your + engagements, yu' see—for you couldn't go, of course. A man couldn't + treat a man that way now, could he?” + </p> + <p> + “Course he couldn't,” said Billy, brightening. + </p> + <p> + “And they wouldn't wait, yu' see. They wouldn't fool away Christmas, that + only comes onced a year, kickin' their heels and sayin' 'Where's Billy?' + They'd say, 'Bill has sure made other arrangements, which he'll explain to + us at his leesyure.' And they'd skip with the cigars.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate paused, effectively, and from his bolster regarded Billy with + a convincing eye. + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” said Billy. + </p> + <p> + “And where would yu' be then, Bill? In the street, out of friends, out of + Christmas, and left both ways, no tobaccer and no flapjacks. Now, Bill, + what do yu' say to us putting up a Christmas deal together? Just you and + me?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like that,” said Billy. “Is it all day?” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinkin' of all day,” said Lin. “I'll not make yu' do anything yu'd + rather not.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, they can smoke without me,” said Billy, with sudden acrimony. “I'll + see 'em to-morro'.” + </p> + <p> + “That's you!” cried Mr. McLean. “Now, Bill, you hustle down and tell them + to keep a table for us. I'll get my clothes on and follow yu'.” + </p> + <p> + The boy went, and Mr. McLean procured hot water and dressed himself, tying + his scarf with great care. “Wished I'd a clean shirt,” said he. “But I + don't look very bad. Shavin' yesterday afternoon was a good move.” He + picked up the arrow-head and the kinni-kinnic, and was particular to store + them in his safest pocket. “I ain't sure whether you're crazy or not,” + said he to the man in the looking-glass. “I ain't never been sure.” And he + slammed the door and went down-stairs. + </p> + <p> + He found young Bill on guard over a table for four, with all the chairs + tilted against it as warning to strangers. No one sat at any other table + or came into the room, for it was late, and the place quite emptied of + breakfasters, and the several entertained waiters had gathered behind + Billy's important-looking back. Lin provided a thorough meal, and Billy + pronounced the flannel cakes superior to flapjacks, which were not upon + the bill of fare. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to see you often,” said he. “I'll come and see you if you don't + live too far.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the trouble,” said the cow-puncher. “I do. Awful far.” He stared + out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I might come some time. I wish you'd write me a letter. Can you + write?” “What's that? Can I write? Oh yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I can write, an' I can read too. I've been to school in Sidney, Nebraska, + an' Magaw, Kansas, an' Salt Lake—that's the finest town except + Denver.” + </p> + <p> + Billy fell into that cheerful strain of comment which, unreplied to, yet + goes on contented and self-sustaining, while Mr. McLean gave amiable signs + of assent, but chiefly looked out of the window; and when the now + interested waiter said respectfully that he desired to close the room, + they went out to the office, where the money was got out of the safe and + the bill paid. + </p> + <p> + The streets were full of the bright sun, and seemingly at Denver's gates + stood the mountains sparkling; an air crisp and pleasant wafted from their + peaks; no smoke hung among the roofs, and the sky spread wide over the + city without a stain; it was holiday up among the chimneys and tall + buildings, and down among the quiet ground-stories below as well; and + presently from their scattered pinnacles through the town the bells broke + out against the jocund silence of the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you like music?” inquired Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + Ladies with their husbands and children were passing and meeting, orderly + yet gayer than if it were only Sunday, and the salutations of Christmas + came now and again to the cow-puncher's ears; but to-day, possessor of his + own share in this, Lin looked at every one with a sort of friendly + challenge, and young Billy talked along beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think we could go in here?” Billy asked. A church door was + open, and the rich organ sounded through to the pavement. “They've good + music here, an' they keep it up without much talking between. I've been in + lots of times.” + </p> + <p> + They went in and sat to hear the music. Better than the organ, it seemed + to them, were the harmonious voices raised from somewhere outside, like + unexpected visitants; and the pair sat in their back seat, too deep in + listening to the processional hymn to think of rising in decent imitation + of those around them. The crystal melody of the refrain especially reached + their understandings, and when for the fourth time “Shout the glad + tidings, exultingly sing,” pealed forth and ceased, both the delighted + faces fell. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you wish there was more?” Billy whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Wish there was a hundred verses,” answered Lin. + </p> + <p> + But canticles and responses followed, with so little talking between them + they were held spellbound, seldom thinking to rise or kneel. Lin's eyes + roved over the church, dwelling upon the pillars in their evergreen, the + flowers and leafy wreaths, the texts of white and gold. “'Peace, good-will + towards men,'” he read. “That's so. Peace and good-will. Yes, that's so. I + expect they got that somewheres in the Bible. It's awful good, and you'd + never think of it yourself.” + </p> + <p> + There was a touch on his arm, and a woman handed a book to him. “This is + the hymn we have now,” she whispered, gently; and Lin, blushing scarlet, + took it passively without a word. He and Billy stood up and held the book + together, dutifully reading the words: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It came upon the midnight clear, + That glorious song of old, + From angels bending near the earth + To touch their harps of gold; + Peace on the earth—” + </pre> + <p> + This tune was more beautiful than all, and Lin lost himself in it, until + he found Billy recalling him with a finger upon the words, the concluding + ones: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “And the whole world sent back the song + Which now the angels sing.” + </pre> + <p> + The music rose and descended to its lovely and simple end; and, for a + second time in Denver, Lin brushed a hand across his eyes. He turned his + face from his neighbor, frowning crossly; and since the heart has reasons + which Reason does not know, he seemed to himself a fool; but when the + service was over and he came out, he repeated again, “'Peace and + good-will.' When I run on to the Bishop of Wyoming I'll tell him if he'll + preach on them words I'll be there.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't we shoot your pistol now?” asked Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Sure, boy. Ain't yu' hungry, though?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I wish we were away off up there. Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “The mountains? They look pretty, so white! A heap better 'n houses. Why, + we'll go there! There's trains to Golden. We'll shoot around among the + foothills.” + </p> + <p> + To Golden they immediately went, and after a meal there, wandered in the + open country until the cartridges were gone, the sun was low, and Billy + was walked off his young heels—a truth he learned complete in one + horrid moment, and battled to conceal. + </p> + <p> + “Lame!” he echoed, angrily. “I ain't.” + </p> + <p> + “Shucks!” said Lin, after the next ten steps. “You are, and both feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell you, there's stones here, an' I'm just a-skipping them.” + </p> + <p> + Lin, briefly, took the boy in his arms and carried him to Golden. “I'm + played out myself,” he said, sitting in the hotel and looking lugubriously + at Billy on a bed. “And I ain't fit to have charge of a hog.” He came and + put his hand on the boy's head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sick,” said the cripple. “I tell you I'm bully. You wait an' see + me eat dinner.” + </p> + <p> + But Lin had hot water and cold water and salt, and was an hour upon his + knees bathing the hot feet. And then Billy could not eat dinner! + </p> + <p> + There was a doctor in Golden; but in spite of his light prescription and + most reasonable observations, Mr. McLean passed a foolish night of vigil, + while Billy slept, quite well at first, and, as the hours passed, better + and better. In the morning he was entirely brisk, though stiff. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't work quick to-day,” he said. “But I guess one day won't lose + me my trade.” + </p> + <p> + “How d' yu' mean?” asked Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I've got regulars, you know. Sidney Ellis an' Pete Goode has theirs, + an' we don't cut each other. I've got Mr. Daniels an' Mr. Fisher an' lots, + an' if you lived in Denver I'd shine your boots every day for nothing. I + wished you lived in Denver.” + </p> + <p> + “Shine my boots? Yu'll never! And yu' don't black Daniels or Fisher, or + any of the outfit.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm doing first-rate,” said Billy, surprised at the swearing into + which Mr. McLean now burst. “An' I ain't big enough to get to make money + at any other job.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to see that engine-man,” muttered Lin. “I don't like your smokin' + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Pete Goode? Why, he's awful smart. Don't you think he's smart?” + </p> + <p> + “Smart's nothin',” observed Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + “Pete has learned me and Sidney a lot,” pursued Billy, engagingly. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet he has!” growled the cow-puncher; and again Billy was taken + aback at his language. + </p> + <p> + It was not so simple, this case. To the perturbed mind of Mr. McLean it + grew less simple during that day at Golden, while Billy recovered, and + talked, and ate his innocent meals. The cow-puncher was far too wise to + think for a single moment of restoring the runaway to his debauched and + shiftless parents. Possessed of some imagination, he went through a scene + in which he appeared at the Lusk threshold with Billy and forgiveness, and + intruded upon a conjugal assault and battery. “Shucks!” said he. “The kid + would be off again inside a week. And I don't want him there, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + Denver, upon the following day, saw the little bootblack again at his + corner, with his trade not lost; but near him stood a tall, singular man, + with hazel eyes and a sulky expression. And citizens during that week + noticed, as a new sight in the streets, the tall man and the little boy + walking together. Sometimes they would be in shops. The boy seemed as + happy as possible, talking constantly, while the man seldom said a word, + and his face was serious. + </p> + <p> + Upon New-year's Eve Governor Barker was overtaken by Mr. McLean riding a + horse up Hill Street, Cheyenne. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” said Barker, staring humorously through his glasses. “Have a good + drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “Changed my mind,” said Lin, grinning. “Proves I've got one. Struck + Christmas all right, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's your friend?” inquired his Excellency. + </p> + <p> + “This is Mister Billy Lusk. Him and me have agreed that towns ain't nice + to live in. If Judge Henry's foreman and his wife won't board him at Sunk + Creek—why, I'll fix it somehow.” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher and his Responsibility rode on together toward the open + plain. + </p> + <p> + “Sufferin Moses!” remarked his Excellency. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SEPAR'S VIGILANTE + </h2> + <p> + We had fallen half asleep, my pony and I, as we went jogging and jogging + through the long sunny afternoon. Our hills of yesterday were a pale-blue + coast sunk almost away behind us, and ahead our goal lay shining, a little + island of houses in this quiet mid-ocean of sage-brush. For two hours it + had looked as clear and near as now, rising into sight across the huge + dead calm and sinking while we travelled our undulating, imperceptible + miles. The train had come and gone invisibly, except for its slow pillar + of smoke I had watched move westward against Wyoming's stainless sky. + Though I was still far off, the water-tank and other buildings stood out + plain and complete to my eyes, like children's blocks arranged and + forgotten on the floor. So I rode along, hypnotized by the sameness of the + lazy, splendid plain, and almost unaware of the distant rider, till, + suddenly, he was close and hailing me. + </p> + <p> + “They've caved!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” I cried, thus awakened. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the fool company,” said he, quieting his voice as he drew near. + “They've shed their haughtiness,” he added, confidingly, as if I must know + all about it. + </p> + <p> + “Where did they learn that wisdom?” I asked, not knowing in the least. + </p> + <p> + “Experience,” he called over his shoulder (for already we had met and + passed); “nothing like experience for sweating the fat off the brain.” + </p> + <p> + He yelled me a brotherly good-bye, and I am sorry never to have known more + of him, for I incline to value any stranger so joyous. But now I waked the + pony and trotted briskly, surmising as to the company and its haughtiness. + I had been viewing my destination across the sagebrush for so spun-out a + time that (as constantly in Wyoming journeys) the emotion of arrival had + evaporated long before the event, and I welcomed employment for my + otherwise high-and-dry mind. Probably he meant the railroad company; + certainly something large had happened. Even as I dismounted at the + platform another hilarious cow-puncher came out of the station, and, at + once remarking, “They're going to leave us alone,” sprang on his horse and + galloped to the corrals down the line, where some cattle were being loaded + into a train. I went inside for my mail, and here were four more + cow-punchers playing with the agent. They had got a letter away from him, + and he wore his daily look of anxiety to appreciate the jests of these + rollicking people. “Read it!” they said to me; and I did read the private + document, and learned that the railroad was going to waive its right to + enforce law and order here, and would trust to Separ's good feeling. + “Nothing more,” the letter ran, “will be done about the initial outrage or + the subsequent vandalisms. We shall pass over our wasted outlay in the + hope that a policy of friendship will prove our genuine desire to benefit + that section. + </p> + <p> + “'Initial outrage,'” quoted one of the agent' large playmates. “Ain't they + furgivin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “you would have some name for it yourself if you sent a + deputy sheriff to look after your rights, and he came back tied to the + cow-catcher!” + </p> + <p> + The man smiled luxuriously over this memory. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't hurt him none. Just returned him to his home. Hear about the + label Honey Wiggin pinned on to him? 'Send us along one dozen as per + sample.' Honey's quaint! Yes,” he drawled judicially, “I'd be mad at that. + But if you're making peace with a man because it's convenient why, your + words must be pleasanter than if you really felt pleasant.” He took the + paper from me, and read, sardonically: “'Subsequent vandalisms... wasted + outlay.' I suppose they run this station from charity to the cattle. Saves + the poor things walking so far to the other railroad 'Policy of + friendship... genuine desire'—oh mouth-wash!” And, shaking his bold, + clever head, he daintily flattened the letter upon the head of the agent. + “Tubercle,” said he (this was their name for the agent, who had told all + of us about his lungs), “it ain't your fault we saw their fine letter. + They just intended you should give it out how they wouldn't bother us any + more, and then we'd act square. The boys'll sit up late over this joke.” + </p> + <p> + Then they tramped to their horses and rode away. The spokesman had hit the + vital point unerringly; for cow-punchers are shrewdly alive to frankness, + and it often draws out the best that is in them; but its opposite affects + them unfavorably; and I, needing sleep, sighed to think of their late + sitting up over that joke. I walked to the board box painted “Hotel + Brunswick”—“hotel” in small italics and “Brunswick” in enormous + capitals, the N and the S wrong side up. + </p> + <p> + Here sat a girl outside the door, alone. Her face was broad, wholesome, + and strong, and her eyes alert and sweet. As I came she met me with a + challenging glance of good-will. Those women who journeyed along the line + in the wake of payday to traffic with the men employed a stare well known; + but this straight look seemed like the greeting of some pleasant young + cowboy. In surprise I forgot to be civil, and stepped foolishly by her to + see about supper and lodging. + </p> + <p> + At the threshold I perceived all lodging bespoken. On each of the four + beds lay a coat or pistol or other article of dress, and I must lodge + myself. There were my saddle-blankets—rather wet; or Lin McLean + might ride in to-night on his way to Riverside; or perhaps down at the + corrals I could find some other acquaintance whose habit of washing I + trusted and whose bed I might share. Failing these expedients, several + empties stood idle upon a siding, and the box-like darkness of these + freight-cars was timely. Nights were short now. Camping out, the dawn by + three o'clock would flow like silver through the universe, and, sinking + through my blankets, remorselessly pervade my buried hair and brain. But + with clean straw in the bottom of an empty, I could sleep my fill until + five or six. I decided for the empty, and opened the supper-room door, + where the table was set for more than enough to include me; but the smell + of the butter that awaited us drove me out of the Hotel Brunswick to spend + the remaining minutes in the air. + </p> + <p> + “I was expecting you,” said the girl. “Well, if I haven't frightened him!” + She laughed so delightfully that I recovered and laughed too. “Why,” she + explained, “I just knew you'd not stay in there. Which side are you going + to butter your bread this evening?” + </p> + <p> + “You had smelt it?” said I, still cloudy with surprise. “Yes. + Unquestionably. Very rancid.” She glanced oddly at me, and, with less + fellowship in her tone, said, “I was going to warn you—” when + suddenly, down at the corrals, the boys began to shoot at large. “Oh, + dear!” she cried, starting up. “There's trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Not trouble,” I assured her. “Too many are firing at once to be in + earnest. And you would be safe here.” + </p> + <p> + “Me? A lady without escort? Well, I should reckon so! Leastways, we are + respected where I was raised. I was anxious for the gentlemen ovah yondah. + Shawhan, K. C. branch of the Louavull an' Nashvull, is my home.” The words + “Louisville and Nashville” spoke creamily of Blue-grass. + </p> + <p> + “Unescorted all that way!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it awful?” said she, tilting her head with a laugh, and showing the + pistol she carried. “But we've always been awful in Kentucky. Now I + suppose New York would never speak to poor me as it passed by?” And she + eyed me with capable, good-humored satire. + </p> + <p> + “Why New York?” I demanded. “Guess again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she debated, “well, cowboy clothes and city language—he's + English!” she burst out; and then she turned suddenly red, and whispered + to herself, reprovingly, “If I'm not acting rude!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said I, rather familiarly. + </p> + <p> + “It was, sir; and please to excuse me. If you had started joking so free + with me, I'd have been insulted. When I saw you—the hat and + everything—I took you—You see I've always been that used to + talking to—to folks around!” Her bright face saddened, memories + evidently rose before her, and her eyes grew distant. + </p> + <p> + I wished to say, “Treat me as 'folks around,'” but this tall country girl + had put us on other terms. On discovering I was not “folks around,” she + had taken refuge in deriding me, but swiftly feeling no solid ground + there, she drew a firm, clear woman's line between us. Plainly she was a + comrade of men, in her buoyant innocence secure, yet by no means in the + dark as to them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, unescorted two thousand miles,” she resumed, “and never as far as + twenty from home till last Tuesday. I expect you'll have to be + scandalized, for I'd do it right over again to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got me all wrong,” said I. “I'm not English; I'm not New York. I + am good American, and not bounded by my own farm either. No sectional + line, or Mason and Dixon, or Missouri River tattoos me. But you, when you + say United States, you mean United Kentucky!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever!” said she, staring at what was Greek to her—as it is + to most Americans. “And so if you had a sister back East, and she and you + were all there was of you any more, and she hadn't seen you since—not + since you first took to staying out nights, and she started to visit you, + you'd not tell her 'Fie for shame'?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd travel my money's length to meet her!” said I. + </p> + <p> + A wave of pain crossed her face. “Nate didn't know,” she said then, + lightly. “You see, Nate's only a boy, and regular thoughtless about + writing.” + </p> + <p> + Ah! So this Nate never wrote, and his sister loved and championed him! + Many such stray Nates and Bobs and Bills galloped over Wyoming, lost and + forgiven. + </p> + <p> + “I'm starting for him in the Buffalo stage,” continued the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll have your company on a weary road,” said I; for my journey was + now to that part of the cattle country. + </p> + <p> + “To Buffalo?” she said, quickly. “Then maybe you—maybe—My + brother is Nate Buckner.” She paused. “Then you're not acquainted with + him?” + </p> + <p> + “I may have seen him,” I answered, slowly. “But faces and names out here + come and go.” + </p> + <p> + I knew him well enough. He was in jail, convicted of forgery last week, + waiting to go to the penitentiary for five years. And even this wild + border community that hated law courts and punishments had not been sorry, + for he had cheated his friends too often, and the wide charity of the + sage-brush does not cover that sin. Beneath his pretty looks and daring + skill with horses they had found vanity and a cold, false heart; but his + sister could not. Here she was, come to find him after lonely years, and + to this one soul that loved him in the world how was I to tell the + desolation and the disgrace? I was glad to hear her ask me if the stage + went soon after supper. + </p> + <p> + “Now isn't that a bother?” said she, when I answered that it did not start + till morning. She glanced with rueful gayety at the hotel. “Never mind,” + she continued, briskly; “I'm used to things. I'll just sit up somewhere. + Maybe the agent will let me stay in the office. You're sure all that + shooting's only jollification?” + </p> + <p> + “Certain,” I said. “But I'll go and see.” + </p> + <p> + “They always will have their fun,” said she. “But I hate to have a poor + boy get hurt—even him deserving it!” + </p> + <p> + “They use pistols instead of fire-crackers,” said I. “But you must never + sleep in that office. I'll see what we can do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you're real kind!” she exclaimed, heartily. And I departed, + wondering what I ought to do. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps I should have told you before that Separ was a place once—a + sort of place; but you will relish now, I am convinced, the pithy fable of + its name. + </p> + <p> + Midway between two sections of this still unfinished line that, rail after + rail and mile upon mile, crawled over the earth's face visibly during the + constructing hours of each new day, lay a camp. To this point these + unjoined pieces were heading, and here at length they met. Camp Separation + it had been fitly called, but how should the American railway man afford + time to say that? Separation was pretty and apt, but needless; and with + the sloughing of two syllables came the brief, businesslike result—Separ. + Chicago, 1137-1/2 miles. It was labelled on a board large almost as the + hut station. A Y-switch, two sidings, the fat water-tank and steam-pump, + and a section-house with three trees before it composed the north side. + South of the track were no trees. There was one long siding by the corrals + and cattle-chute, there were a hovel where plug tobacco and canned goods + were for sale, a shed where you might get your horse shod, a wire fence + that at shipping times enclosed bales of pressed hay, the hotel, the stage + stable, and the little station—some seven shanties all told. Between + them were spaces of dust, the immediate plains engulfed them, and through + their midst ran the far-vanishing railroad, to which they hung like beads + on a great string from horizon to horizon. A great east-and-west string, + one end in the rosy sun at morning, and one in the crimson sun at night. + Beyond each sky-line lay cities and ports where the world went on out of + sight and hearing. This lone steel thread had been stretched across the + continent because it was the day of haste and hope, when dollars seemed + many and hard times were few; and from the Yellowstone to the Rio Grande + similar threads were stretching, and little Separs by dispersed hundreds + hung on them, as it were in space eternal. Can you wonder that vigorous + young men with pistols should, when they came to such a place, shoot them + off to let loose their unbounded joy of living? + </p> + <p> + And yet it was not this merely that began the custom, but an error of the + agent's. The new station was scarce created when one morning Honey Wiggin + with the Virginian had galloped innocently in from the round-up to + telegraph for some additional cars. + </p> + <p> + “I'm dead on to you!” squealed the official, dropping flat at the sight of + them; and bang went his gun at them. They, most naturally, thought it was + a maniac, and ran for their lives among the supports of the water-tank, + while he remained anchored with his weapon, crouched behind the railing + that fenced him and his apparatus from the laity; and some fifteen + strategic minutes passed before all parties had crawled forth to an + understanding, and the message was written and paid for and comfortably + despatched. The agent was an honest creature, but of tame habits, sent for + the sake of his imperfect lungs to this otherwise inappropriate air. He + had lived chiefly in mid-West towns, a serious reader of our comic + weeklies; hence the apparition of Wiggin and the Virginian had reminded + him sickeningly of bandits. He had express money in the safe, he explained + to them, and this was a hard old country, wasn't it? and did they like + good whiskey? + </p> + <p> + They drank his whiskey, but it was not well to have mentioned that about + the bandits. Both were aware that when shaved and washed of their round-up + grime they could look very engaging. The two cow-punchers rode out, not + angry, but grieved that a man come here to dwell among them should be so + tactless. + </p> + <p> + “If we don't get him used to us,” observed the Virginian, “he and his + pop-gun will be guttin' some blameless man.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith the cattle country proceeded to get the agent used to it. The + news went over the sage-brush from Belle Fourche to Sweetwater, and + playful, howling horsemen made it their custom to go rioting with pistols + round the ticket office, educating the agent. His lungs improved, and he + came dimly to smile at this life which he did not understand. But the + company discerned no humor whatever in having its water-tank perforated, + which happened twice; and sheriffs and deputies and other symptoms of + authority began to invest Separ. Now what should authority do upon these + free plains, this wilderness of do-as-you-please, where mere breathing the + air was like inebriation? The large, headlong children who swept in from + the sage-brush and out again meant nothing that they called harm until + they found themselves resisted. Then presently happened that affair of the + cow-catcher; and later a too-zealous marshal, come about a mail-car they + had side-tracked and held with fiddles, drink, and petticoats, met his + death accidentally, at which they were sincerely sorry for about five + minutes. They valued their own lives as little, and that lifts them + forever from baseness at least. So the company, concluding such things + must be endured for a while yet, wrote their letter, and you have seen how + wrong the letter went. All it would do would be from now on to fasten upon + Separ its code of recklessness; to make shooting the water-tank (for + example) part of a gentleman's deportment when he showed himself in town. + </p> + <p> + It was not now the season of heavy shipping; to-night their work would be + early finished, and then they were likely to play after their manner. To + arrive in such a place on her way to her brother, the felon in jail, made + the girl's journey seem doubly forlorn to me as I wandered down to the + corrals. + </p> + <p> + A small, bold voice hailed me. “Hello, you!” it said; and here was Billy + Lusk, aged nine, in boots and overalls, importantly useless with a stick, + helping the men prod the steers at the chute. + </p> + <p> + “Thought you were at school,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, school's quit,” returned Billy, and changed the subject. “Say, Lin's + hunting you. He's angling to eat at the hotel. I'm grubbing with the + outfit.” And Billy resumed his specious activity. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean was in the ticket-office, where the newspaper had transiently + reminded him of politics. “Wall Street,” he was explaining to the agent, + “has been lunched on by them Ross-childs, and they're moving on. Feeding + along to Chicago. We want—” Here he noticed me and, dragging his + gauntlet off, shook my hand with his lusty grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Your eldest son just said you were in haste to find me,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Lose you, he meant. The kid gets his words twisted.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't know you were a father, Mr. McLean,” simpered the agent. + </p> + <p> + Lin fixed his eye on the man. “And you don't know it now,” said he. Then + he removed his eye. “Let's grub,” he added to me. My friend did not walk + to the hotel, but slowly round and about, with a face overcast. “Billy is + a good kid,” he said at length, and, stopping, began to kick small mounds + in the dust. Politics floated lightly over him, but here was a matter + dwelling with him, heavy and real. “He's dead stuck on being a + cow-puncher,” he presently said. + </p> + <p> + “Some day—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “He don't want to wait that long,” Lin said, and smiled affectionately. + “And, anyhow, what is 'some day'? Some day we punchers will not be here. + The living will be scattered, and the dead—well, they'll be all + right. Have yu' studied the wire fence? It's spreading to catch us like + nets do the salmon in the Columbia River. No more salmon, no more + cow-punchers,” stated Mr. McLean, sententiously; and his words made me + sad, though I know that progress cannot spare land and water for such + things. “But Billy,” Lin resumed, “has agreed to school again when it + starts up in the fall. He takes his medicine because I want him to.” + Affection crept anew over the cow-puncher's face. “He can learn books with + the quickest when he wants, that Bear Creek school-marm says. But he'd + ought to have a regular mother till—till I can do for him, yu' know. + It's onwholesome him seeing and hearing the boys—and me, and me when + I forget!—but shucks! how can I fix it? Billy was sure enough + dropped and deserted. But when I found him the little calf could run and + notice like everything!” + </p> + <p> + “I should hate your contract, Lin,” said I. “Adopting's a touch-and-go + business even when a man has a home.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll fill the contract, you bet! I wish the little son-of-a-gun was mine. + I'm a heap more natural to him than that pair of drunkards that got him. + He likes me: I think he does. I've had to lick him now and then, but Lord! + his badness is all right—not sneaky. I'll take him hunting next + month, and then the foreman's wife at Sunk Creek boards him till school. + Only when they move, Judge Henry'll make his Virginia man foreman—and + he's got no woman to look after Billy, yu' see.” + </p> + <p> + “He's asking one hard enough,” said I, digressing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes; asking! Talk of adopting—” said Mr. McLean, and his + wide-open, hazel eyes looked away as he coughed uneasily. Then abruptly + looking at me again, he said: “Don't you get off any more truck about + eldest son and that, will yu', friend? The boys are joshing me now—not + that I care for what might easy enough be so, but there's Billy. Maybe + he'd not mind, but maybe he would after a while; and I am kind o' set on—well—he + didn't have a good time till he shook that home of his, and I'm going to + make this old bitch of a world pay him what she owes him, if I can. Now + you'll drop joshing, won't yu'?” His forehead was moist over getting the + thing said and laying bare so much of his soul. + </p> + <p> + “And so the world owes us a good time, Lin?” said I. + </p> + <p> + He laughed shortly. “She must have been dead broke, then, quite a while, + you bet! Oh no. Maybe I used to travel on that basis. But see here” (Lin + laid his hand on my shoulder), “if you can't expect a good time for + yourself in reason, you can sure make the kids happy out o' reason, can't + yu'?” + </p> + <p> + I fairly opened my mouth at him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” he said, laughing in that short way again (and he took his hand + off my shoulder); “I've been thinking a wonderful lot since we met last. I + guess I know some things yu' haven't got to yet yourself—Why, + there's a girl!” + </p> + <p> + “That there is!” said I. “And certainly the world owes her a better—” + </p> + <p> + “She's a fine-looker,” interrupted Mr. McLean, paying me no further + attention. Here the decrepit, straw-hatted proprietor of the Hotel + Brunswick stuck his beard out of the door and uttered “Supper!” with a + shrill croak, at which the girl rose. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” said Lin, “let's hurry!” + </p> + <p> + But I hooked my fingers in his belt, and in spite of his plaintive oaths + at my losing him the best seat at the table, told him in three words the + sister's devoted journey. + </p> + <p> + “Nate Buckner!” he exclaimed. “Him with a decent sister!” + </p> + <p> + “It's the other way round,” said I. “Her with him for a brother!” + </p> + <p> + “He goes to the penitentiary this week,” said Lin. “He had no more cash to + stake his lawyer with, and the lawyer lost interest in him. So his sister + could have waited for her convict away back at Joliet, and saved time and + money. How did she act when yu' told her?” + </p> + <p> + “I've not told her.” + </p> + <p> + “Not? Too kind o' not your business? Well, well! You'd ought to know + better 'n me. Only it don't seem right to let her—no, sir; it's not + right, either. Put it her brother was dead (and Miss. Fligg's husband + would like dearly to make him dead), you'd not let her come slap up + against the news unwarned. You would tell her he was sick, and start her + gently.” + </p> + <p> + “Death's different,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Shucks! And she's to find him caged, and waiting for stripes and a shaved + head? How d' yu' know she mightn't hate that worse 'n if he'd been just + shot like a man in a husband scrape, instead of jailed like a skunk for + thieving? No, sir, she mustn't. Think of how it'll be. Quick as the stage + pulls up front o' the Buffalo post-office, plump she'll be down ahead of + the mail-sacks, inquiring after her brother, and all that crowd around + staring. Why, we can't let her do that; she can't do that. If you don't + feel so interfering, I'm good for this job myself.” And Mr. McLean took + the lead and marched jingling in to supper. + </p> + <p> + The seat he had coveted was vacant. On either side the girl were empty + chairs, two or three; for with that clean, shy respect of the frontier + that divines and evades a good woman, the dusty company had sat itself at + a distance, and Mr. McLean's best seat was open to him. Yet he had veered + away to the other side of the table, and his usually roving eye attempted + no gallantry. He ate sedately, and it was not until after long weeks and + many happenings that Miss Buckner told Lin she had known he was looking at + her through the whole of this meal. The straw-hatted proprietor came and + went, bearing beefsteak hammered flat to make it tender. The girl seemed + the one happy person among us; for supper was going forward with the + invariable alkali etiquette, all faces brooding and feeding amid a + disheartening silence as of guilt or bereavement that springs from I have + never been quite sure what—perhaps reversion to the native animal + absorbed in his meat, perhaps a little from every guest's uneasiness lest + he drink his coffee wrong or stumble in the accepted uses of the fork. + Indeed, a diffident, uncleansed youth nearest Miss Buckner presently wiped + his mouth upon the cloth; and Mr. McLean, knowing better than that, eyed + him for this conduct in the presence of a lady. The lively strength of the + butter must, I think, have reached all in the room; at any rate, the + table-cloth lad, troubled by Mr. McLean's eye, now relieved the general + silence by observing, chattily: + </p> + <p> + “Say, friends, that butter ain't in no trance.” + </p> + <p> + “If it's too rich for you,” croaked the enraged proprietor, “use + axle-dope.” + </p> + <p> + The company continued gravely feeding, while I struggled to preserve the + decorum of sadness, and Miss Buckner's face was also unsteady. But + sternness mantled in the countenance of Mr. McLean, until the harmless + boy, embarrassed to pieces, offered the untasted smelling-dish to Lin, to + me, helped himself, and finally thrust the plate at the girl, saying, in + his Texas idiom, + </p> + <p> + “Have butter.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke in the shell voice of adolescence, and on “butter” cracked an + octave up into the treble. Miss Buckner was speechless, and could only + shake her head at the plate. + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean, however, thought she was offended. “She wouldn't choose for + none,” he said to the youth, with appalling calm. “Thank yu' most to + death.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess,” fluted poor Texas, in a dove falsetto, “it would go slicker + rubbed outside than swallered.” + </p> + <p> + At this Miss Buckner broke from the table and fled out of the house. + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem to know anything,” observed Mr. McLean. “What toy-shop did + you escape from?” + </p> + <p> + “Wind him up! Wind him up!” said the proprietor, sticking his head in from + the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, what's the matter with this outfit?” screamed the boy, furiously. + “Can't yu' leave a man eat? Can't yu' leave him be? You make me sick!” And + he flounced out with his young boots. + </p> + <p> + All the while the company fed on unmoved. Presently one remarked, + </p> + <p> + “Who's hiring him?” + </p> + <p> + “The C. Y. outfit,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “Half-circle L.,” a third corrected. + </p> + <p> + “I seen one like him onced,” said the first, taking his hat from beneath + his chair. “Up in the Black Hills he was. Eighteen seventy-nine. Gosh!” + And he wandered out upon his business. One by one the others also silently + dispersed. + </p> + <p> + Upon going out, Lin and I found the boy pacing up and down, eagerly in + talk with Miss Buckner. She had made friends with him, and he was now + smoothed down and deeply absorbed, being led by her to tell her about + himself. But on Lin's approach his face clouded, and he made off for the + corrals, displaying a sullen back, while I was presenting Mr. McLean to + the lady. + </p> + <p> + Overtaken by his cow-puncher shyness, Lin was greeting her with ungainly + ceremony, when she began at once, “You'll excuse me, but I just had to + have my laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, m'm,” said he; “don't mention it.” + </p> + <p> + “For that boy, you know—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll fix him, m'm. He'll not insult yu' no more. I'll speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, please don't! Why—why—you were every bit as bad!” Miss + Buckner pealed out, joyously. “It was the two of you. Oh dear!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean looked crestfallen. “I had no—I didn't go to—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, there was no harm! To see him mean so well and you mean so well, and—I + know I ought to behave better!” + </p> + <p> + “No, yu' oughtn't!” said Lin, with sudden ardor; and then, in a voice of + deprecation, “You'll think us plumb ignorant.” + </p> + <p> + “You know enough to be kind to folks,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “We'd like to.” + </p> + <p> + “It's the only thing makes the world go round!” she declared, with an + emotion that I had heard in her tone once or twice already. But she caught + herself up, and said gayly to me, “And where's that house you were going + to build for a lone girl to sleep in?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid the foundations aren't laid yet,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Now you gentlemen needn't bother about me.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll have to, m'm. You ain't used to Separ.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am no—tenderfoot, don't you call them?” She whipped out her + pistol, and held it at the cow-puncher, laughing. + </p> + <p> + This would have given no pleasure to me; but over Lin's features went a + glow of delight, and he stood gazing at the pointed weapon and the girl + behind it. “My!” he said, at length, almost in a whisper, “she's got the + drop on me!” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon I'd be afraid to shoot that one of yours,” said Miss Buckner. + “But this hits a target real good and straight at fifteen yards.” And she + handed it to him for inspection. + </p> + <p> + He received it, hugely grinning, and turned it over and over. “My!” he + murmured again. “Why, shucks!” He looked at Miss Buckner with stark + rapture, caressing the polished revolver at the same time with a fond, + unconscious thumb. “You hold it just as steady as I could,” he said with + pride, and added, insinuatingly, “I could learn yu' the professional drop + in a morning. This here is a little dandy gun.” + </p> + <p> + “You'd not trade, though,” said she, “for all your flattery.” + </p> + <p> + “Will yu' trade?” pounced Lin. “Won't yu'?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. McLean, I am afraid you're thoughtless. How could a girl like me + ever hold that awful.45 Colt steady?” + </p> + <p> + “She knows the brands, too!” cried Lin, in ecstasy. “See here,” he + remarked to me with a manner that smacked of command, “we're losing time + right now. You go and tell the agent to hustle and fix his room up for a + lady, and I'll bring her along.” + </p> + <p> + I found the agent willing, of course, to sleep on the floor of the office. + The toy station was also his home. The front compartment held the ticket + and telegraph and mail and express chattels, and the railing, and room for + the public to stand; through a door you then passed to the sitting, + dining, and sleeping box; and through another to a cooking-stove in a + pigeon-hole. Here flourished the agent and his lungs, and here the + company's strict orders bade him sleep in charge; so I helped him put his + room to rights. But we need not have hurried ourselves. Mr. McLean was so + long in bringing the lady that I went out and found him walking and + talking with her, while fifty yards away skulked poor Texas, alone. This + boy's name was, like himself, of the somewhat unexpected order, being + Manassas Donohoe. + </p> + <p> + As I came towards the new friends they did not appear to be joking, and on + seeing me Miss Buckner said to Lin, “Did he know?” + </p> + <p> + Lin hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “You did know!” she exclaimed, but lost her resentment at once, and + continued, very quietly and with a friendly tone, “I reckon you don't like + to have to tell folks bad news.” + </p> + <p> + It was I that now hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Not to a strange girl, anyway!” said she. “Well, now I have good news to + tell you. You would not have given me any shock if you had said you knew + about poor Nate, for that's the reason—Of course those things can't + be secrets! Why, he's only twenty, sir! How should he know about this + world? He hadn't learned the first little thing when he left home five + years ago. And I am twenty-three—old enough to be Nate's + grandmother, he's that young and thoughtless. He couldn't ever realize bad + companions when they came around. See that!” She showed me a paper, taking + it out like a precious thing, as indeed it was; for it was a pardon signed + by Governor Barker. “And the Governor has let me carry it to Nate myself. + He won't know a thing about it till I tell him. The Governor was real + kind, and we will never forget him. I reckon Nate must have a mustache by + now?” said she to Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Lin answered, gruffly, looking away from her, “he has got a + mustache all right.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll be glad to see you,” said I, for something to say. + </p> + <p> + “Of course he will! How many hours did you say we will be?” she asked Lin, + turning from me again, for Mr. McLean had not been losing time. It was + plain that between these two had arisen a freemasonry from which I was + already shut out. Her woman's heart had answered his right impulse to tell + her about her brother, and I had been found wanting! + </p> + <p> + So now she listened over again to the hours of stage jolting that “we” had + before us, and that lay between her and Nate. “We would be four—herself, + Lin, myself, and the boy Billy.” Was Billy the one at supper? Oh no; just + Billy Lusk, of Laramie. “He's a kid I'm taking up the country,” Lin + explained. “Ain't you most tuckered out?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, me!” she confessed, with a laugh and a sigh. + </p> + <p> + There again! She had put aside my solicitude lightly, but was willing Lin + should know her fatigue. Yet, fatigue and all, she would not sleep in the + agent's room. At sight of it and the close quarters she drew back into the + outer office, so prompted by that inner, unsuspected strictness she had + shown me before. + </p> + <p> + “Come out!” she cried, laughing. “Indeed, I thank you. But I can't have + you sleep on this hard floor out here. No politeness, now! Thank you ever + so much. I'm used to roughing it pretty near as well as if I was—a + cowboy!” And she glanced at Lin. “They're calling forty-seven,” she added + to the agent. + </p> + <p> + “That's me,” he said, coming out to the telegraph instrument. “So you're + one of us?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know forty-seven meant Separ,” said I. “How in the world do you + know that?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't. I heard forty-seven, forty-seven, forty-seven, start and go + right along, so I guessed they wanted him, and he couldn't hear them from + his room.” + </p> + <p> + “Can yu' do astronomy and Spanish too?” inquired the proud and smiling + McLean. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's nothing! I've been day operator back home. Why is a deputy + coming through on a special engine?” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't say it out loud!” quavered the agent, as the machine clicked + its news. + </p> + <p> + “Yu' needn't be scared of a girl,” said Lin. “Another sheriff! So they're + not quit bothering us yet.” + </p> + <p> + However, this meddling was not the company's, but the county's; a sheriff + sent to arrest, on a charge of murder, a man named Trampas, said to be at + the Sand Hill Ranch. That was near Rawhide, two stations beyond, and the + engine might not stop at Separ, even to water. So here was no molesting of + Separ's liberties. + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” Lin said, for pistols now and then still sounded at the + corrals, “the boys'll not understand that till it's explained, and they + may act wayward first. I'd feel easier if you slept here,” he urged to the + girl. But she would not. “Well, then, we must rustle some other private + place for you. How's the section-house?” + </p> + <p> + “Rank,” said the agent, “since those Italians used it. The pump engineer + has been scouring, but he's scared to bunk there yet himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Too bad you couldn't try my plan of a freight-car!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “An empty?” she cried. “Is there a clean one?” + </p> + <p> + “You've sure never done that?” Lin burst out. + </p> + <p> + “So you're scandalized,” said she, punishing him instantly. “I reckon it + does take a decent girl to shock you.” And while she stood laughing at him + with robust irony, poor Lin began to stammer that he meant no offence. + “Why, to be sure you didn't!” said she. “But I do enjoy you real + thoroughly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, m'm,” protested the wincing cow-puncher, driven back to addressing + her as “ma'am,” “we ain't used—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't tangle yourself up worse, Mr. McLean. No more am I 'used.' I have + never slept in an empty in my life. And why is that? Just because I've + never had to. And there's the difference between you boys and us. You do + lots of things you don't like, and tell us. And we put up with lots of + things we don't like, but we never let you find out. I know you meant no + offense,” she continued, heartily, softening towards her crushed + protector, “because you're a gentleman. And lands! I'm not complaining + about an empty. That will be rich—if I can have the door shut.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this she went out to view the cars, Mr. McLean hovering behind her + with a devoted, uneasy countenance, and frequently muttering “Shucks!” + while the agent and I followed with a lamp, for the dark was come. With + our help she mounted into the first car, and then into the next, taking + the lamp. And while she scanned the floor and corners, and slid the door + back and forth, Lin whispered in my ear: “Her name's Jessamine. She told + me. Don't yu' like that name?” So I answered him, “Yes, very much,” + thinking that some larger flower—but still a flower—might have + been more apt. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody seems to have slept in these,” said she, stepping down; and on + learning that even the tramp avoided Separ when he could, she exclaimed, + “What lodging could be handier than this! Only it would be so cute if you + had a Louavull an' Nashvull car,” said she. “Twould seem like my old + Kentucky home!” And laughing rather sweetly at her joke, she held the lamp + up to read the car's lettering. “'D. and R. G.' Oh, that's a way-off + stranger! I reckon they're all strange.” She went along the train with her + lamp. “Yes, 'B. and M.' and 'S. C. and P.' Oh, this is rich! Nate will + laugh when he hears. I'll choose 'C., B. and Q.' That's a little nearer my + country. What time does the stage start? Porter, please wake 'C., B. and + Q.' at six, sharp,” said she to Lin. + </p> + <p> + From this point of the evening on, I think of our doings—their + doings—with a sort of unchanging homesickness. Nothing like them can + ever happen again, I know; for it's all gone—settled, sobered, and + gone. And whatever wholesomer prose of good fortune waits in our cup, how + I thank my luck for this swallow of frontier poetry which I came in time + for! + </p> + <p> + To arrange some sort of bed for her was the next thing, and we made a good + shake-down—clean straw and blankets and a pillow, and the agent + would have brought sheets; but though she would not have these, she did + not resist—what do you suppose?—a looking-glass for next + morning! And we got a bucket of water and her valise. It was all one to + her, she said, in what car Lin and I put up; and let it be next door, by + all means, if it pleased him to think he could watch over her safety + better so; and she shut herself in, bidding us good-night. We began + spreading straw and blankets for ourselves, when a whistle sounded far and + long, and its tone rose in pitch as it came. + </p> + <p> + “I'll get him to run right to the corrals,” said the agent, “so the + sheriff can tell the boys he's not after them.” + </p> + <p> + “That'll convince 'em he is,” said Lin. “Stop him here, or let him go + through.” + </p> + <p> + But we were not to steer the course that events took now. The rails of the + main line beside us brightened in wavering parallels as the headlight grew + down upon us, and in this same moment the shootings at the corrals + chorused in a wild, hilarious threat. The burden of the coming engine + heavily throbbed in the air and along the steel, and met and mixed with + the hard, light beating of hoofs. The sounds approached together like a + sort of charge, and I stepped between the freight-cars, where I heard Lin + ordering the girl inside to lie down flat, and could see the agent running + about in the dust, flapping his arms to signal with as much coherence as a + chicken with its head off. I had very short space for wonder or alarm. The + edge of one of my freight-cars glowed suddenly with the imminent + headlight, and galloping shots invaded the place. The horsemen flew by, + overreaching, and leaning back and lugging against their impetus. They + passed in a tangled swirl, and their dust coiled up thick from the dark + ground and luminously unfolded across the glare of the sharp-halted + locomotive. Then they wheeled, and clustered around it where it stood by + our cars, its air-brake pumping deep breaths, and the internal steam + humming through its bowels; and I came out in time to see Billy Lusk climb + its front with callow, enterprising shouts. That was child's play; and the + universal yell now raised by the horsemen was their child's play too; but + the whole thing could so precipitately reel into the fatal that my + thoughts stopped. I could only look when I saw that they had somehow + recognized the man on the engine for a sheriff. Two had sprung from their + horses and were making boisterously toward the cab, while Lin McLean, + neither boisterous nor joking, was going to the cab from my side, with his + pistol drawn, to keep the peace. The engineer sat with a neutral hand on + the lever, the fireman had run along the top of the coal in the tender and + descended and crouched somewhere, and the sheriff, cool, and with a + good-natured eye upon all parties, was just beginning to explain his + errand, when some rider from the crowd cut him short with an invitation to + get down and have a drink. At the word of ribald endearment by which he + named the sheriff, a passing fierceness hardened the officer's face, and + the new yell they gave was less playful. Waiting no more explanations, + they swarmed against the locomotive, and McLean pulled himself up on the + step. The loud talking fell at a stroke to let business go on, and in this + silence came the noise of a sliding-door. At that I looked, and they all + looked, and stood harmless, like children surprised. For there on the + threshold of the freight-car, with the interior darkness behind her, and + touched by the headlight's diverging rays, stood Jessamine Buckner. + </p> + <p> + “Will you gentlemen do me a favor?” said she. “Strangers, maybe, have no + right to ask favors, but I reckon you'll let that pass this time. For I'm + real sleepy!” She smiled as she brought this out. “I've been four days and + nights on the cars, and to-morrow I've got to stage to Buffalo. You see + I'll not be here to spoil your fun to-morrow night, and I want boys to be + boys just as much as ever they can. Won't you put it off till to-morrow + night?” + </p> + <p> + In their amazement they found no spokesman; but I saw Lin busy among them, + and that some word was passing through their groups. After the brief + interval of stand-still they began silently to get on their horses, while + the looming engine glowed and pumped its breath, and the sheriff and + engineer remained as they were. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, lady,” said a voice among the moving horsemen, but the others + kept their abashed native silence; and thus they slowly filed away to the + corrals. The figures, in their loose shirts and leathern chaps, passed + from the dimness for a moment through the cone of light in front of the + locomotive, so that the metal about them made here and there a faint, + vanishing glint; and here and there in the departing column a bold, + half-laughing face turned for a look at the girl in the doorway, and then + was gone again into the dimness. + </p> + <p> + The sheriff in the cab took off his hat to Miss Buckner, remarking that + she should belong to the force; and as the bell rang and the engine moved, + off popped young Billy Lusk from his cow-catcher. With an exclamation of + horror she sprang down, and Mr. McLean appeared, and, with all a parent's + fright and rage, held the boy by the arm grotesquely as the sheriff + steamed by. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't a-going to chase it,” said young Billy, struggling. + </p> + <p> + “I've a mind to cowhide you,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + But Miss Buckner interposed. “Oh, well,” said she, “next time; if he does + it next time. It's so late to-night! You'll not frighten us that way again + if he lets you off?” she asked Billy. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Billy, looking at her with interest. “Father 'd have cowhided + me anyway, I guess,” he added, meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Do you call him father?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, father's at Laramie,” said Billy, with disgust. “He'd not stop for + your asking. Lin don't bother me much.” + </p> + <p> + “You quit talking and step up there!” ordered his guardian. “Well, m'm, I + guess yu' can sleep good now in there.” + </p> + <p> + “If it was only an 'L. and N.' I'd not have a thing against it! + Good-night, Mr. McLean; good-night, young Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm Billy Lusk. I can ride Chalkeye's pinto that bucked Honey Wiggin.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you can ride finely, Mr. Lusk. Maybe you and I can take a ride + together. Pleasant dreams!” + </p> + <p> + She nodded and smiled to him, and slid her door to; and Billy considered + it, remarking: “I like her. What makes her live in a car?” + </p> + <p> + But he was drowsing while I told him; and I lifted him up to Lin, who took + him in his own blankets, where he fell immediately asleep. One distant + whistle showed how far the late engine had gone from us. We left our car + open, and I lay enjoying the cool air. Thus was I drifting off, when I + grew aware of a figure in the door. It was Lin, standing in his stockings + and not much else, with his pistol. He listened, and then leaped down, + light as a cat. I heard some repressed talking, and lay in expectancy; but + back he came, noiseless in his stockings, and as he slid into bed I asked + what the matter was. He had found the Texas boy, Manassas Donohoe, by the + girl's car, with no worse intention than keeping a watch on it. “So I gave + him to understand,” said Lin, “that I had no objection to him amusing + himself playing picket-line, but that I guessed I was enough guard, and he + would find sleep healthier for his system.” After this I went to sleep + wholly; but, waking once in the night, thought I heard some one outside, + and learned in the morning from Lin that the boy had not gone until the + time came for him to join his outfit at the corrals. And I was surprised + that Lin, the usually good-hearted, should find nothing but mirth in the + idea of this unknown, unthanked young sentinel. “Sleeping's a heap better + for them kind till they get their growth,” was his single observation. + </p> + <p> + But when Separ had dwindled to toys behind us in the journeying stage I + told Miss Jessamine, and although she laughed too, it was with a note that + young Texas would have liked to hear; and she hoped she might see him upon + her return, to thank him. + </p> + <p> + “Any Jack can walk around all night,” said Mr. McLean, disparagingly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, and I know a Jack who didn't,” observed the young lady. + </p> + <p> + This speech caused her admirer to be full of explanations; so that when + she saw how readily she could perplex him, and yet how capable and + untiring he was about her comfort, helping her out or tucking her in at + the stations where we had a meal or changed horses, she enjoyed the hours + very much, in spite of their growing awkwardness. + </p> + <p> + But oh, the sparkling, unbashful Lin! Sometimes he sat himself beside her + to be close, and then he would move opposite, the better to behold her. + </p> + <p> + Never, except once long after (when sorrow manfully borne had still + further refined his clay), have I heard Lin's voice or seen his look so + winning. No doubt many a male bird cares nothing what neighbor bird + overhears his spring song from the top of the open tree, but I extremely + doubt if his lady-love, even if she be a frank, bouncing robin, does not + prefer to listen from some thicket, and not upon the public lawn. + Jessamine grew silent and almost peevish; and from discourse upon man and + woman she hopped, she skipped, she flew. When Lin looked at his watch and + counted the diminished hours between her and Buffalo, she smiled to + herself; but from mention of her brother she shrank, glancing swiftly at + me and my well-assumed slumber. + </p> + <p> + And it was with indignation and self-pity that I climbed out in the hot + sun at last beside the driver and small Billy. + </p> + <p> + “I know this road,” piped Billy, on the box + </p> + <p> + “'I camped here with father when mother was off that time. You can take a + left-hand trail by those cottonwoods and strike the mountains.” + </p> + <p> + So I inquired what game he had then shot. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, just a sage-hen. Lin's a-going to let me shoot a bear, you know. What + made Lin marry mother when father was around?” + </p> + <p> + The driver gave me a look over Billy's head, and I gave him one; and I + instructed Billy that people supposed his father was dead. I withheld that + his mother gave herself out as Miss Peck in the days when Lin met her on + Bear Creek. + </p> + <p> + The formidable nine-year-old pondered. “The geography says they used to + have a lot of wives at Salt Lake City. Is there a place where a woman can + have a lot of husbands?” + </p> + <p> + “It don't especially depend on the place,” remarked the driver to me. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” Billy went on, “Bert Taylor told me in recess that mother'd had + a lot, and I told him he lied, and the other boys they laughed and I + blacked Bert's eye on him, and I'd have blacked the others too, only Miss + Wood came out. I wouldn't tell her what Bert said, and Bert wouldn't, and + Sophy Armstrong told her. Bert's father found out, and he come round, and + I thought he was a-going to lick me about the eye, and he licked Bert! + Say, am I Lin's, honest?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Billy, you're not,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Wish I was. They couldn't get me back to Laramie then; but, oh, bother! + I'd not go for 'em! I'd like to see 'em try! Lin wouldn't leave me go. You + ain't married, are you? No more is Lin now, I guess. A good many are, but + I wouldn't want to. I don't think anything of 'em. I've seen mother take + 'pothecary stuff on the sly. She's whaled me worse than Lin ever does. I + guess he wouldn't want to be mother's husband again, and if he does,” said + Billy, his voice suddenly vindictive, “I'll quit him and skip.” + </p> + <p> + “No danger, Bill,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “How would the nice lady inside please you?” inquired the driver. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, pshaw! she ain't after Lin!” sang out Billy, loud and scornful. + “She's after her brother. She's all right, though,” he added, approvingly. + </p> + <p> + At this all talk stopped short inside, reviving in a casual, scanty + manner; while unconscious Billy Lusk, tired of the one subject, now spoke + cheerfully of birds' eggs. + </p> + <p> + Who knows the child-soul, young in days, yet old as Adam and the hills? + That school-yard slur about his mother was as dim to his understanding as + to the offender's, yet mysterious nature had bid him go to instant war! + How foreseeing in Lin to choke the unfounded jest about his relation to + Billy Lusk, in hopes to save the boy's ever awakening to the facts of his + mother's life! “Though,” said the driver, an easygoing cynic, “folks with + lots of fathers will find heaps of brothers in this country!” But + presently he let Billy hold the reins, and at the next station carefully + lifted him down and up. “I've knowed that woman, too,” he whispered to me. + “Sidney, Nebraska. Lusk was off half the time. We laughed when she fooled + Lin into marryin' her. Come to think,” he mused, as twilight deepened + around our clanking stage, and small Billy slept sound between us, + “there's scarcely a thing in life you get a laugh out of that don't make + soberness for somebody.” + </p> + <p> + Soberness had now visited the pair behind us; even Lin's lively talk had + quieted, and his tones were low and few. But though Miss Jessamine at our + next change of horses “hoped” I would come inside, I knew she did not hope + very earnestly, and outside I remained until Buffalo. + </p> + <p> + Journeying done, her face revealed the strain beneath her brave + brightness, and the haunting care she could no longer keep from her eyes. + The imminence of the jail and the meeting had made her cheeks white and + her countenance seem actually smaller; and when, reminding me that we + should meet again soon, she gave me her hand, it was ice-cold. I think she + was afraid Lin might offer to go with her. But his heart understood the + lonely sacredness of her next half-hour, and the cow puncher, standing + aside for her to pass, lifted his hat wistfully and spoke never a word. + For a moment he looked after her with sombre emotion; but the court-house + and prison stood near and in sight, and, as plain as if he had said so, I + saw him suddenly feel she should not be stared at going up those steps; it + must be all alone, the pain and the joy of that reprieve! He turned away + with me, and after a few silent steps said, “Wasted! all wasted!” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “You're not a fool,” he broke in, roughly. “You don't hope anything.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll start life elsewhere,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Elsewhere! Yes, keep starting till all the elsewheres know him like + Powder River knows him. But she! I have had to sit and hear her tell and + tell about him; all about back in Kentucky playin' around the farm, and + how she raised him after the old folks died. Then he got bigger and made + her sell their farm, and she told how it was right he should turn it into + money and get his half. I did not dare say a word, for she'd have just bit + my head off, and—and that would sure hurt me now!” Lin brought up + with a comical chuckle. “And she went to work, and he cleared out, and no + more seen or heard of him. That's for five years, and she'd given up + tracing him, when one morning she reads in the paper about how her + long-lost brother is convicted for forgery. That's the way she knows he's + not dead, and she takes her savings off her railroad salary and starts for + him. She was that hasty she thought it was Buffalo, New York, till she got + in the cars and read the paper over again. But she had to go as far as + Cincinnati, either way. She has paid every cent of the money he stole.” We + had come to the bridge, and Lin jerked a stone into the quick little + river. “She's awful strict in some ways. Thought Buffalo must be a wicked + place because of the shops bein' open Sunday. Now if that was all + Buffalo's wickedness! And she thinks divorce is mostly sin. But her heart + is a shield for Nate.” + </p> + <p> + “Her face is as beautiful as her actions,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “and would you make such a villain your brother-in-law?” + </p> + <p> + He whirled round and took both my shoulders. “Come walking!” he urged. “I + must talk some.” So we followed the stream out of town towards the + mountains. “I came awful near asking her in the stage,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness, Lin! give yourself time!” + </p> + <p> + “Time can't increase my feelings.” + </p> + <p> + “Hers, man, hers! How many hours have you known her?” + </p> + <p> + “Hours and hours! You're talking foolishness! What have they got to do + with it? And she will listen to me. I can tell she will. I know I can be + so she'll listen, and it will go all right, for I'll ask so hard. And + everything'll come out straight. Yu' see, I've not been spending to speak + of since Billy's on my hands, and now I'll fix up my cabin and finish my + fencing and my ditch—and she's going to like Box Elder Creek better + than Shawhan. She's the first I've ever loved.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'd like to ask—” I cried out. + </p> + <p> + “Ask away!” he exclaimed, inattentively, in his enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “When you—” but I stopped, perceiving it impossible. It was, of + course, not the many transient passions on which he had squandered his + substance, but the one where faith also had seemed to unite. Had he not + married once, innocent of the woman's being already a wife? But I stopped, + for to trench here was not for me or any one. + </p> + <p> + And my pause strangely flashed on him something of that I had in my mind. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, his eyes steady and serious upon me, “don't you ask about + the things you're meaning.” Then his face grew radiant and rather stern. + “Do you suppose I don't know she's too good for me? And that some bygones + can't ever be bygones? But if you,” he said, “never come to look away up + to a woman from away down, and mean to win her just the same as if you did + deserve her, why, you'll make a turruble mess of the whole business!” + </p> + <p> + When we walked in silence for a long while, he lighted again with the + blossoming dawn of his sentiment. I thought of the coarse yet taking + vagabond of twenty I had once chanced upon, and hunted and camped with + since through the years. Decidedly he was not that boy to-day! It is not + true that all of us rise through adversity, any more than that all plants + need shadow. Some starve out of the sunshine; and I have seen misery + deaden once kind people to everything but self—almost the saddest + sight in the world! But Lin's character had not stood well the ordeal of + happiness, and for him certainly harsh days and responsibility had been + needed to ripen the spirit. Yes, Jessamine Buckner would have been much + too good for him before that humiliation of his marriage, and this care of + young Billy with which he had loaded himself. “Lin,” said I, “I will drink + your health and luck.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm healthy enough,” said he; and we came back to the main street and + into the main saloon. + </p> + <p> + “How d'ye, boys?” said some one, and there was Nate Buckner. “It's on me + to-day,” he continued, shoving whiskey along the bar; and I saw he was a + little drunk. “I'm setting 'em up,” he continued. “Why? Why, because”—he + looked around for appreciation—“because it's not every son-of-a-gun + in Wyoming gets pardoned by Governor Barker. I'm important, I want you to + understand,” he pursued to the cold bystanders. “They'll have a picture of + me in the Cheyenne paper. 'The Bronco-buster of Powder River!' They can't + do without me! If any son-of-a-gun here thinks he knows how to break a + colt,” he shouted, looking around with the irrelevant fierceness of drink—and + then his challenge ebbed vacantly in laughter as the subject blurred in + his mind. “You're not drinking, Lin,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said McLean, “I'm not.” + </p> + <p> + “Sworn off again? Well, water never did agree with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yu' never gave water the chance,” retorted the cow-puncher, and we left + the place without my having drunk his health. + </p> + <p> + It was a grim beginning, this brag attempt to laugh his reputation down, + with the jail door scarce closed behind him. “Folks are not going to like + that,” said Lin, as we walked across the bridge again to the hotel. Yet + the sister, left alone here after an hour at most of her brother's + company, would pretend it was a matter of course. Nate was not in, she + told us at once. He had business to attend to and friends to see he must + get back to Riverside and down in that country where colts were waiting + for him. He was the only one the E. K. outfit would allow to handle their + young stock. Did we know that? And she was going to stay with a Mrs. + Pierce down there for a while, near where Nate would be working. All this + she told us; but when he did not return to dine with her on this first + day, I think she found it hard to sustain her wilful cheeriness. Lin + offered to take her driving to see the military post and dress parade at + retreat, and Cloud's Peak, and Buffalo's various sights; but she made + excuses and retired to her room. Nate, however, was at tea, shaven clean, + with good clothes, and well conducted. His tone and manner to Jessamine + were confidential and caressing, and offended Mr. McLean, so that I + observed to him that it was scarcely reasonable to be jealous. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no jealousy!” said he. “But he comes in and kisses her, and he kisses + her good-night, and us strangers looking on! It's such oncontrollable + affection, yu' see, after never writing for five years. I expect she must + have some of her savings left.” + </p> + <p> + It is true that the sister gave the brother money more than once; and as + our ways lay together, I had chances to see them both, and to wonder if + her joy at being with him once again was going to last. On the road to + Riverside I certainly heard Jessamine beg him to return home with her; and + he ridiculed such a notion. What proper life for a live man was that dead + place back East? he asked her. I thought he might have expressed some + regret that they must dwell so far apart, or some intention to visit her + now and then; but he said nothing of the sort, though he spoke volubly of + himself and his prospects. I suppose this spectacle of brother and sister + had rubbed Lin the wrong way too much, for he held himself and Billy + aloof, joining me on the road but once, and then merely to give me the + news that people here wanted no more of Nate Buckner; he would be run out + of the country, and respect for the sister was all that meanwhile saved + him. But Buckner, like so many spared criminals, seemed brazenly unaware + he was disgraced, and went hailing loudly any riders or drivers we met, + while beside him his sister sat close and straight, her stanch affection + and support for the world to see. For all she let appear, she might have + been bringing him back from some gallant heroism achieved; and as I rode + along the travesty seemed more and more pitiful, the outcome darker and + darker. + </p> + <p> + At all times is Riverside beautiful, but most beautiful when the sun draws + down through the openings of the hills. From each one a stream comes + flowing clearly out into the plain, and fields spread green along the + margins. It was beneath the long-slanted radiance of evening that we saw + Blue Creek and felt its coolness rise among the shifting veils of light. + The red bluff eastward, the tall natural fortress, lost its stern masonry + of shapes, and loomed a soft towering enchantment of violet and amber and + saffron in the changing rays. The cattle stood quiet about the levels, and + horses were moving among the restless colts. These the brother bade his + sister look at, for with them was his glory; and I heard him boasting of + his skill—truthful boasting, to be sure. Had he been honest in his + dealings, the good-will that man's courage and dashing appearance beget in + men would have brought him more employment than he could have undertaken. + He told Jessamine his way of breaking a horse that few would dare, and she + listened eagerly. “Do you remember when I used to hold the pony for you to + get on?” she said. “You always would scare me, Nate!” And he replied, + fluently, Yes, yes; did she see that horse there, near the fence? He was a + four-year-old, an outlaw, and she would find no one had tried getting on + his back since he had been absent. This was the first question he asked on + reaching the cabin, where various neighbors were waiting the mail-rider; + and, finding he was right, he turned in pride to Jessamine. + </p> + <p> + “They don't know how to handle that horse,” said he. “I told you so. Give + me a rope.” + </p> + <p> + Did she notice the cold greeting Nate received? I think not. Not only was + their welcome to her the kinder, but any one is glad to witness bold + riding, and this chance made a stir which the sister may have taken for + cordiality. But Lin gave me a look; for it was the same here as it had + been in the Buffalo saloon. + </p> + <p> + “The trick is easy enough,” said Nate, arriving with his outlaw, and + liking an audience. “You don't want a bridle, but a rope hackamore like + this—Spanish style. Then let them run as hard as they want, and on a + sudden reach down your arm and catch the hackamore short, close up by the + mouth, and jerk them round quick and heavy at full speed. They quit their + fooling after one or two doses. Now watch your outlaw!” + </p> + <p> + He went into the saddle so swift and secure that the animal, amazed, + trembled stock-still, then sprang headlong. It stopped, vicious and + knowing, and plunged in a rage, but could do nothing with the man, and + bolted again, and away in a straight blind line over the meadow, when the + rider leaned forward to his trick. The horse veered in a jagged swerve, + rolled over and over with its twisted impetus, and up on its feet and on + without a stop, the man still seated and upright in the saddle. How we + cheered to see it! But the figure now tilted strangely, and something + awful and nameless came over us and chilled our noise to silence. The + horse, dazed and tamed by the fall, brought its burden towards us, a + wobbling thing, falling by small shakes backward, until the head sank on + the horse's rump. + </p> + <p> + “Come away,” said Lin McLean to Jessamine and at his voice she obeyed and + went, leaning on his arm. + </p> + <p> + Jessamine sat by her brother until he died, twelve hours afterwards, + having spoken and known nothing. The whole weight of the horse had crushed + him internally. He must have become almost instantly unconscious, being + held in the saddle by his spurs, which had caught in the hair cinch; it + may be that our loud cheer was the last thing of this world that he knew. + The injuries to his body made impossible any taking him home, which his + sister at first wished to do. “Why, I came here to bring him home,” she + said, with a smile and tone like cheerfulness in wax. Her calm, the + unearthly ease with which she spoke to any comer (and she was surrounded + with rough kindness), embarrassed the listeners; she saw her calamity + clear as they did, but was sleep-walking in it. It was Lin gave her what + she needed—the repose of his strong, silent presence. He spoke no + sympathy and no advice, nor even did he argue with her about the burial; + he perceived somehow that she did not really hear what was said to her, + and that these first griefless, sensible words came from some mechanism of + the nerves; so he kept himself near her, and let her tell her story as she + would. Once I heard him say to her, with the same authority of that first + “come away”; “Now you've had enough of the talking. Come for a walk.” + Enough of the talking—as if it were a treatment! How did he think of + that? Jessamine, at any rate, again obeyed him, and I saw the two going + quietly about in the meadows and along the curving brook; and that night + she slept well. On one only point did the cow-puncher consult me. + </p> + <p> + “They figured to put Nate on top of that bald mound,” said he. “But she + has talked about the flowers and shade where the old folks lie, and where + she wants him to be alongside of them. I've not let her look at him + to-day, for—well, she might get the way he looks now on her memory. + But I'd like to show you my idea before going further.” + </p> + <p> + Lin had indeed chosen a beautiful place, and so I told him at the first + sight of it. + </p> + <p> + “That's all I wanted to know,” said he. “I'll fix the rest.” + </p> + <p> + I believe he never once told Jessamine the body could not travel so far as + Kentucky. I think he let her live and talk and grieve from hour to hour, + and then led her that afternoon to the nook of sunlight and sheltering + trees, and won her consent to it thus; for there was Nate laid, and there + she went to sit, alone. Lin did not go with her on those walks. + </p> + <p> + But now something new was on the fellow's mind. He was plainly occupied + with it, whatever else he was doing, and he had some active cattle-work. + On my asking him if Jessamine Buckner had decided when to return east, he + inquired of me, angrily, what was there in Kentucky she could not have in + Wyoming? Consequently, though I surmised what he must be debating, I felt + myself invited to keep out of his confidence, and I did so. My advice to + him would have been ill received, and—as was soon to be made plain—would + have done his delicacy injustice. Next, one morning he and Billy were + gone. My first thought was that he had rejoined Jessamine at Mrs. + Pierce's, where she was, and left me away over here on Bear Creek, where + we had come for part of a week. + </p> + <p> + But stuck in my hat-band I found a pencilled farewell. + </p> + <p> + Now Mr. McLean constructed perhaps three letters in the year—painful, + serious events—like an interview with some important person with + whom your speech must decorously flow. No matter to whom he was writing, + it froze all nature stiff in each word he achieved; and his bald business + diction and wild archaic penmanship made documents that I value among my + choicest correspondence; this one, especially: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Wensday four a. m. +</pre> + <p> + “DEAR SIR this is to Inform you that i have gone to Separ on important + bisness where i expect to meet you on your arrival at same point. You will + confer a favor and oblidge undersigned by Informing Miss J. Buckner of + date (if soon) you fix for returning per stage to Separ as Miss J. Buckner + may prefer company for the trip being long and poor accommodations. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Yours &c. L. McLEAN.” + </pre> + <p> + This seemed to point but one way; and (uncharitable though it sound) that + this girl, so close upon bereavement, should be able to give herself to a + lover was distasteful to me. + </p> + <p> + But, most extraordinary, Lin had gone away without a word to her, and she + was left as plainly in the dark as myself. After her first frank surprise + at learning of his departure, his name did not come again from her lips, + at any rate to me. Good Mrs. Pierce dropped a word one day as to her + opinion of men who deceive women into expecting something from them. + </p> + <p> + “Let us talk straight,” said I. “Do you mean that Miss Buckner says that, + or that you say it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the poor thing says nothing!” exclaimed the lady. “It's like a man + to think she would. And I'll not say anything, either, for you're all just + the same, except when you're worse; and that Lin McLean is going to know + what I think of him next time we meet.” + </p> + <p> + He did. On that occasion the kind old dame told him he was the best boy in + the country, and stood on her toes and kissed him. But meanwhile we did + not know why he had gone, and Jessamine (though he was never subtle or + cruel enough to plan such a thing) missed him, and thus in her loneliness + had the chance to learn how much he had been to her. + </p> + <p> + Though pressed to stay indefinitely beneath Mrs. Pierce's hospitable roof, + the girl, after lingering awhile, and going often to that nook in the hill + by Riverside, took her departure. She was restless, yet clung to the + neighborhood. It was with a wrench that she fixed her going when I told + her of my own journey back to the railroad. In Buffalo she walked to the + court-house and stood a moment as if bidding this site of one life-memory + farewell, and from the stage she watched and watched the receding town and + mountains. “It's awful to be leaving him!” she said. “Excuse me for acting + so in front of you.” With the poignant emptiness overcoming her in new + guise, she blamed herself for not waiting in Illinois until he had been + sent to Joliet, for then, so near home, he must have gone with her. + </p> + <p> + How could I tell her that Nate's death was the best end that could have + come to him? But I said: “You know you don't think it was your fault. You + know you would do the same again.” She listened to me, but her eyes had no + interest in them. “He never knew pain,” I pursued, “and he died doing the + thing he liked best in the world. He was happy and enjoying himself, and + you gave him that. It's bad only for you. Some would talk religion, but I + can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, “I can think of him so glad to be free. Thank you for + saying that about religion. Do you think it's wicked not to want it—to + hate it sometimes? I hope it's not. Thank you, truly.” + </p> + <p> + During our journey she summoned her cheerfulness, and all that she said + was wholesome. In the robust, coarse soundness of her fibre, the wounds of + grief would heal and leave no sickness—perhaps no higher + sensitiveness to human sufferings than her broad native kindness already + held. We touched upon religion again, and my views shocked her Kentucky + notions, for I told her Kentucky locked its religion in an iron cage + called Sunday, which made it very savage and fond of biting strangers. Now + and again I would run upon that vein of deep-seated prejudice that was in + her character like some fine wire. In short, our disagreements brought us + to terms more familiar than we had reached hitherto. But when at last + Separ came, where was I? There stood Mr. McLean waiting, and at the + suddenness of him she had no time to remember herself, but stepped out of + the stage with such a smile that the ardent cow-puncher flushed and + beamed. + </p> + <p> + “So I went away without telling you goodbye!” he began, not wisely. “Mrs. + Pierce has been circulating war talk about me, you bet!” + </p> + <p> + The maiden in Jessamine spoke instantly. “Indeed? There was no special + obligation for you to call on me, or her to notice if you didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Lin, crestfallen. “Yu' sure don't mean that?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, and was compelled to melt. “No, neighbor, I don't mean + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Neighbor!” he exclaimed; and again, “Neighbor,” much pleased. “Now it + would sound kind o' pleasant if you'd call me that for a steady thing.” + </p> + <p> + “It would sound kind of odd, Mr. McLean, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Blamed if I understand her,” cried Lin. “Blamed if I do. But you're going + to understand me sure quick!” He rushed inside the station, spoke sharply + to the agent, and returned in the same tremor of elation that had pushed + him to forwardness with his girl, and with which he seemed near bursting. + “I've been here three days to meet you. There's a letter, and I expect I + know what's in it. Tubercle has got it here.” He took it from the less + hasty agent and thrust it in Jessamine's hand. “You needn't to fear. + Please open it; it's good news this time, you bet!” He watched it in her + hand as the boy of eight watches the string of a Christmas parcel he + wishes his father would cut instead of so carefully untie. “Open it,” he + urged again. “Keeping me waiting this way!” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world does all this mean?” cried Jessamine, stopping short at + the first sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Read,” said Lin. + </p> + <p> + “You've done this!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Read, read!” + </p> + <p> + So she read, with big eyes. It was an official letter of the railroad, + written by the division superintendent at Edgeford. It hoped Miss Buckner + might feel like taking the position of agent at Separ. If she was willing + to consider this, would she stop over at Edgeford, on her way east, and + talk with the superintendent? In case the duties were more than she had + been accustomed to on the Louisville and Nashville, she could continue + east with the loss of only a day. The superintendent believed the salary + could be arranged satisfactorily. Enclosed please to find an order for a + free ride to Edgeford. + </p> + <p> + Jessamine turned her wondering eyes on Lin. “You did do this,” she + repeated, but this time with extraordinary quietness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he. “And I am plumb proud of it.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a rich laugh of pleasure and amusement; a long laugh, and + stopped. “Did anybody ever!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “We can call each other neighbors now, yu' see,” said the cow-puncher. + </p> + <p> + “Oh no! oh no!” Jessamine declared. “Though how am I ever to thank you?” + </p> + <p> + “By not argufying,” Lin answered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, no! I can do no such thing. Don't you see I can't? I believe you + are crazy.” + </p> + <p> + “I've been waiting to hear yu' say that,” said the complacent McLean. “I'm + not argufying. We'll eat supper now. The east-bound is due in an hour, and + I expect you'll be wanting to go on it.” + </p> + <p> + “And I expect I'll go, too,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be plumb proud to have yu',” the cow-puncher assented. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to get my ticket to Chicago right now,” said Jessamine, again + laughing, sunny and defiant. + </p> + <p> + “You bet you are!” said the incorrigible McLean. He let her go into the + station serenely. “You can't get used to new ideas in a minute,” he + remarked to me. “I've figured on all that, of course. But that's why,” he + broke out, impetuously, “I quit you on Bear Creek so sudden. 'When she + goes back away home,' I'd been saying to myself every day, 'what'll you do + then, Lin McLean?' Well, I knew I'd go to Kentucky too. Just knew I'd have + to, yu' see, and it was inconvenient, turruble inconvenient—Billy + here and my ranch, and the beef round-up comin'—but how could I let + her go and forget me? Take up, maybe, with some Blue-grass son-of-a-gun + back there? And I hated the fix I was in till that morning, getting up, I + was joshin' the Virginia man that's after Miss Wood. I'd been sayin' no + educated lady would think of a man who talked with an African accent. + 'It's repotted you have a Southern rival yourself,' says he, joshin' back. + So I said I guessed the rival would find life uneasy. 'He does,' says he. + 'Any man with his voice broke in two halves, and one down in his stomach + and one up among the angels, is goin' to feel uneasy. But Texas talks a + heap about his lady vigilante in the freight-car.' 'Vigilante!' I said; + and I must have jumped, for they all asked where the lightning had struck. + And in fifteen minutes after writing you I'd hit the trail for Separ. Oh, + I figured things out on that ride!” (Mr. McLean here clapped me on the + back.) “Got to Separ. Got the sheriff's address—the sheriff that saw + her that night they held up the locomotive. Got him to meet me at Edgeford + and make a big talk to the superintendent. Made a big talk myself. I said, + 'Put that girl in charge of Separ, and the boys'll quit shooting your + water-tank. But Tubercle can't influence 'em.' 'Tubercle?' says the + superintendent. 'What's that?' And when I told him it was the agent, he + flapped his two hands down on the chair arms each side of him and went to + rockin' up and down. I said the agent was just a temptation to the boys to + be gay right along, and they'd keep a-shooting. 'You can choose between + Tubercle and your tank,' I said; 'but you've got to move one of 'em from + Separ if yu' went peace.' The sheriff backed me up good, too. He said a + man couldn't do much with Separ the way it was now; but a decent woman + would be respected there, and the only question was if she could conduct + the business. So I spoke up about Shawhan, and when the whole idea began + to soak into that superintendent his eyeballs jingled and he looked as + wise as a work-ox. 'I'll see her,' says he. And he's going to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “you deserve success after thinking of a thing like that! + You're wholly wasted punching cattle. But she's going to Chicago. By + eleven o'clock she will have passed by your superintendent.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, so she will!” said Lin, affecting surprise. + </p> + <p> + He baffled me, and he baffled Jessamine. Indeed, his eagerness with her + parcels, his assistance in checking her trunk, his cheerful examination of + check and ticket to be sure they read over the same route, plainly failed + to gratify her. + </p> + <p> + Her firmness about going was sincere, but she had looked for more + dissuasion; and this sprightly abettal of her departure seemed to leave + something vacant in the ceremonies She fell singularly taciturn during + supper at the Hotel Brunswick, and presently observed, “I hope I shall see + Mr. Donohoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Texas?” said Lin. “I expect they'll have tucked him in bed by now up at + the ranch. The little fellow is growing yet.” + </p> + <p> + “He can walk round a freight-car all night,” said Miss Buckner, stoutly. + “I've always wanted to thank him for looking after me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McLean smiled elaborately at his plate + </p> + <p> + “Well, if he's not actually thinking he'll tease me!” cried out Jessamine + “Though he claims not to be foolish like Mr. Donohoe. Why, Mr. McLean, you + surely must have been young once! See if you can't remember!” + </p> + <p> + “Shucks!” began Lin. + </p> + <p> + But her laughter routed him. “Maybe you didn't notice you were young,” she + said. “But don't you reckon perhaps the men around did? Why, maybe even + the girls kind o' did!” + </p> + <p> + “She's hard to beat, ain't she?” inquired Lin, admiringly, of me. + </p> + <p> + In my opinion she was. She had her wish, too about Texas; for we found him + waiting on the railroad platform, dressed in his best, to say good-bye. + The friendly things she told him left him shuffling and repeating that it + was a mistake to go, a big mistake; but when she said the butter was not + good enough, his laugh cracked joyously up into the treble. The train's + arrival brought quick sadness to her face, but she made herself bright + again with a special farewell for each acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you ride any more cow-catchers,” she warned Billy Lusk, “or I'll + have to come back and look after you.” + </p> + <p> + “You said you and me were going for a ride, and we ain't,” shouted the + long-memoried nine-year-old. “You will,” murmured Mr. McLean, oracularly. + </p> + <p> + As the train's pace quickened he did not step off, and Miss Buckner cried + “Jump!” + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” said he, placidly. Then he called to me, “I'm hard to beat, + too!” So the train took them both away, as I might have guessed was his + intention all along. + </p> + <p> + “Is that marriage again?” said Billy, anxiously. “He wouldn't tell me + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “He's just seeing Miss Buckner as far as Edgeford,” said the agent. “Be + back to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I don't see why he wouldn't take me along,” Billy complained. And + Separ laughed. + </p> + <p> + But the lover was not back to-morrow. He was capable of anything, gossip + remarked, and took up new themes. The sun rose and set, the two trains + made their daily slight event and gathering; the water-tank, glaring + bulkily in the sun beaconed unmolested; and the agent's natural sleep was + unbroken by pistols, for the cow-boys did not happen to be in town. Separ + lay a clot of torpor that I was glad to leave behind me for a while. But + news is a strange, permeating substance, and it began to be sifted through + the air that Tubercle was going to God's country. + </p> + <p> + That is how they phrased it in cow-camp, meaning not the next world, but + the Eastern States. + </p> + <p> + “It's certainly a shame him leaving after we've got him so good and used + to us,” said the Virginian. + </p> + <p> + “We can't tell him good-bye,” said Honey Wiggin. “Separ'll be slow.” + </p> + <p> + “We can give his successor a right hearty welcome,” the Virginian + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “That's you!” said Honey. “Schemin' mischief away ahead. You're the + leadin' devil in this country, and just because yu' wear a + faithful-looking face you're tryin' to fool a poor school-marm.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” drawled the Southerner, “that's what I'm aiming to do.” + </p> + <p> + So now they were curious about the successor, planning their hearty + welcome for that official, and were encouraged in this by Mr. McLean. He + reappeared in the neighborhood with a manner and conversation highly + casual. + </p> + <p> + “Bring your new wife?” they inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No; she preferred Kentucky,” Lin said. + </p> + <p> + “Bring the old one?” + </p> + <p> + “No; she preferred Laramie.” + </p> + <p> + “Kentucky's a right smart way to chase after a girl,” said the Virginian. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said Mr. McLean. “I quit at Edgeford.” + </p> + <p> + He met their few remarks so smoothly that they got no joy from him; and + being asked had he seen the new agent, he answered yes, that Tubercle had + gone Wednesday, and his successor did not seem to be much of a man. + </p> + <p> + But to me Lin had nothing to say until noon camp was scattering from its + lunch to work, when he passed close, and whispered, “You'll see her + to-morrow if you go in with the outfit.” Then, looking round to make sure + we were alone in the sage-brush, he drew from his pocket, cherishingly, a + little shining pistol. “Hers,” said he, simply. + </p> + <p> + I looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “We've exchanged,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He turned the token in his hand, caressing it as on that first night when + Jessamine had taken his heart captive. + </p> + <p> + “My idea,” he added, unable to lift his eyes from the treasure. “See this, + too.” + </p> + <p> + I looked, and there was the word “Neighbor” engraved on it. + </p> + <p> + “Her idea,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “A good one!” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “It's on both, yu' know. We had it put on the day she settled to accept + the superintendent's proposition.” Here Lin fired his small exchanged + weapon at a cotton-wood, striking low. “She can beat that with mine!” he + exclaimed, proud and tender. “She took four days deciding at Edgeford, and + I learned her to hit the ace of clubs.” He showed me the cards they had + practiced upon during those four days of indecision; he had them in a book + as if they were pressed flowers. “They won't get crumpled that way,” said + he; and he further showed me a tintype. “She's got the other at Separ,” he + finished. + </p> + <p> + I shook his hand with all my might. Yes, he was worthy of her! Yes, he + deserved this smooth course his love was running! And I shook his hand + again. To tonic her grief Jessamine had longed for some activity, some + work, and he had shown her Wyoming might hold this for her as well as + Kentucky. “But how in the world,” I asked him, “did you persuade her to + stop over at Edgeford at all?” + </p> + <p> + “Yu' mustn't forget,” said the lover (and he blushed), “that I had her + four hours alone on the train.” + </p> + <p> + But his face that evening round the fire, when they talked of their next + day's welcome to the new agent, became comedy of the highest, and he was + so desperately canny in the moments he chose for silence or for comment! + He had not been sure of their ignorance until he arrived, and it was a + joke with him too deep for laughter. He had a special eye upon the + Virginian, his mate in such a tale of mischiefs, and now he led him on. He + suggested to the Southerner that caution might be wise; this change at + Separ was perhaps some new trick of the company's. + </p> + <p> + “We mostly take their tricks,” observed the Virginian. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lin, nodding sagely at the fire, “that's so, too.” + </p> + <p> + Yet not he, not any one, could have foreseen the mortifying harmlessness + of the outcome. They swept down upon Separ like all the hordes of legend—more + egregiously, perhaps, because they were play-acting and no serious horde + would go on so. Our final hundred yards of speed and copious howling + brought all dwellers in Separ out to gaze and disappear like rabbits—all + save the new agent in the station. Nobody ran out or in there, and the + horde whirled up to the tiny, defenceless building and leaped to earth—except + Lin and me; we sat watching. The innocent door stood open wide to any cool + breeze or invasion, and Honey Wiggin tramped in foremost, hat lowering + over eyes and pistol prominent. He stopped rooted, staring, and his mouth + came open slowly; his hand went feeling up for his hat, and came down with + it by degrees as by degrees his grin spread. Then in a milky voice, he + said: “Why, excuse me, ma'am! Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + There answered a clear, long, rippling, ample laugh. It came out of the + open door into the heat; it made the sun-baked air merry; it seemed to + welcome and mock; it genially hovered about us in the dusty quiet of + Separ; for there was no other sound anywhere at all in the place, and the + great plain stretched away silent all round it. The bulging water-tank + shone overhead in bland, ironic safety. + </p> + <p> + The horde stood blank; then it shifted its legs, looked sideways at + itself, and in a hesitating clump reached the door, shambled in, and + removed its foolish hat. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, gentlemen,” said Jessamine Buckner, seated behind her + railing; and various voices endeavored to reply conventionally. + </p> + <p> + “If you have any letters, ma'am,” said the Virginian, more inventive, + “I'll take them. Letters for Judge Henry's.” He knew the judge's office + was seventy miles from here. + </p> + <p> + “Any for the C. Y.?” muttered another, likewise knowing better. + </p> + <p> + It was a happy, if simple, thought, and most of them inquired for the + mail. Jessamine sought carefully, making them repeat their names, which + some did guiltily: they foresaw how soon the lady would find out no + letters ever came for these names! + </p> + <p> + There was no letter for any one present. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, truly,” said Jessamine behind the railing. “For you seemed + real anxious to get news. Better luck next time! And if I make mistakes, + please everybody set me straight, for of course I don't understand things + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, m'm.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, m'm.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank yu', m'm.” + </p> + <p> + They got themselves out of the station and into their saddles. + </p> + <p> + “No, she don't understand things yet,” soliloquized the Virginian. “Oh + dear, no.” He turned his slow, dark eyes upon us. “You Lin McLean,” said + he, in his gentle voice, “you have cert'nly fooled me plumb through this + mawnin'.” + </p> + <p> + Then the horde rode out of town, chastened and orderly till it was quite + small across the sagebrush, when reaction seized it. It sped suddenly and + vanished in dust with far, hilarious cries and here were Lin and I, and + here towered the water-tank, shining and shining. + </p> + <p> + Thus did Separ's vigilante take possession and vindicate Lin's knowledge + of his kind. It was not three days until the Virginian, that lynx + observer, fixed his grave eyes upon McLean “'Neighbor' is as cute a name + for a six-shooter as ever I heard,” said he. “But she'll never have need + of your gun in Separ—only to shoot up peaceful playin'-cyards while + she hearkens to your courtin'.” + </p> + <p> + That was his way of congratulation to a brother lover. “Plumb strange,” he + said to me one morning after an hour of riding in silence, “how a man will + win two women while another man gets aged waitin' for one.” + </p> + <p> + “Your hair seems black as ever,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “My hopes ain't so glossy any more,” he answered. “Lin has done better + this second trip.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lusk don't count,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon she counted mighty plentiful when he thought he'd got her + clamped to him by lawful marriage. But Lin's lucky.” And the Virginian + fell silent again. + </p> + <p> + Lucky Lin bestirred him over his work, his plans, his ranch on Box Elder + that was one day to be a home for his lady. He came and went, seeing his + idea triumph and his girl respected. Not only was she a girl, but a good + shot too. And as if she and her small, neat home were a sort of + possession, the cow-punchers would boast of her to strangers. They would + have dealt heavily now with the wretch who should trifle with the + water-tank. When camp came within visiting distance, you would see one or + another shaving and parting his hair. They wrote unnecessary letters, and + brought them to mail as excuses for an afternoon call. Honey Wiggin, more + original, would look in the door with his grin, and hold up an ace of + clubs. “I thought maybe yu' could spare a minute for a shootin'-match,” he + would insinuate; and Separ now heard no more objectionable shooting than + this. Texas brought her presents of game—antelope, sage-chickens—but, + shyness intervening, he left them outside the door, and entering, dressed + in all the “Sunday” that he had, would sit dumbly in the lady's presence. + I remember his emerging from one of these placid interviews straight into + the hands of his tormentors. + </p> + <p> + “If she don't notice your clothes, Texas,” said the Virginian, “just + mention them to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Now yer've done offended her,” shrilled Manassas Donohoe. “She heard + that.” + </p> + <p> + “She'll hear you singin' sooprano,” said Honey Wiggin. “It's good this + country has reformed, or they'd have you warblin' in some dance-hall and + corrupt your morals.” + </p> + <p> + “You sca'cely can corrupt the morals of a soprano man,” observed the + Virginian. “Go and play with Billy till you can talk bass.” + </p> + <p> + But it was the boldest adults that Billy chose for playmates. Texas he + found immature. Moreover, when next he came, he desired play with no one. + Summer was done. September's full moon was several nights ago; he had gone + on his hunt with Lin, and now spelling-books were at hand. But more than + this clouded his mind, he had been brought to say good-bye to Jessamine + Buckner, who had scarcely seen him, and to give her a wolverene-skin, a + hunting trophy. “She can have it,” he told me. “I like her.” Then he stole + a look at his guardian. “If they get married and send me back to mother,” + said he, “I'll run away sure.” So school and this old dread haunted the + child, while for the man, Lin the lucky, who suspected nothing of it, time + was ever bringing love nearer to his hearth. His Jessamine had visited Box + Elder, and even said she wanted chickens there; since when Mr. McLean + might occasionally have been seen at his cabin, worrying over barn-yard + fowls, feeding and cursing them with equal care. Spring would see him + married, he told me. + </p> + <p> + “This time right!” he exclaimed. “And I want her to know Billy some more + before he goes to Bear Creek.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Bear Creek!” said Billy, acidly. “Why can't I stay home?” + </p> + <p> + “Home sounds kind o' slick,” said Lin to me. “Don't it, now? 'Home' is + closer than 'neighbor,' you bet! Billy, put the horses in the corral, and + ask Miss Buckner if we can come and see her after supper. If you're good, + maybe she'll take yu' for a ride to-morrow. And, kid, ask her about + Laramie.” + </p> + <p> + Again suspicion quivered over Billy's face, and he dragged his horses + angrily to the corral. + </p> + <p> + Lin nudged me, laughing. “I can rile him every time about Laramie,” said + he, affectionately. “I wouldn't have believed the kid set so much store by + me. Nor I didn't need to ask Jessamine to love him for my sake. What do + yu' suppose? Before I'd got far as thinking of Billy at all—right + after Edgeford, when my head was just a whirl of joy—Jessamine says + to me one day, 'Read that.' It was Governor Barker writin' to her about + her brother and her sorrow.” Lin paused. “And about me. I can't never tell + you—but he said a heap I didn't deserve. And he told her about me + picking up Billy in Denver streets that time, and doing for him because + his own home was not a good one. Governor Barker wrote Jessamine all that; + and she said, 'Why did you never tell me?' And I said it wasn't anything + to tell. And she just said to me, 'It shall be as if he was your son and I + was his mother.' And that's the first regular kiss she ever gave me I + didn't have to take myself. God bless her! God bless her!” + </p> + <p> + As we ate our supper, young Billy burst out of brooding silence: “I didn't + ask her about Laramie. So there!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, kid,” said the cow-puncher, patting his head, “yu' needn't + to, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + But Billy's eye remained sullen and jealous. He paid slight attention to + the picture-book of soldiers and war that Jessamine gave him when we went + over to the station. She had her own books, some flowers in pots, a + rocking-chair, and a cosey lamp that shone on her bright face and dark + dress. We drew stools from the office desks, and Billy perched silently on + one. + </p> + <p> + “Scanty room for company!” Jessamine said. “But we must make out this way—till + we have another way.” She smiled on Lin, and Billy's face darkened. “Do + you know,” she pursued to me, “with all those chickens Mr. McLean tells me + about, never a one has he thought to bring here.” + </p> + <p> + “Livin' or dead do you want 'em?” inquired Lin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll not bother you. Mr. Donohoe says he will—” + </p> + <p> + “Texas? Chickens? Him? Then he'll have to steal 'em!” And we all laughed + together. + </p> + <p> + “You won't make me go back to Laramie, will you?” spoke Billy, suddenly, + from his stool. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to see anybody try to make you?” exclaimed Jessamine. “Who says + any such thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Lin did,” said Billy. + </p> + <p> + Jessamine looked at her lover reproachfully. “What a way to tease him!” + she said. “And you so kind. Why, you've hurt his feelings!” + </p> + <p> + “I never thought,” said Lin the boisterous. “I wouldn't have.” + </p> + <p> + “Come sit here, Billy,” said Jessamine. “Whenever he teases, you tell me, + and we'll make him behave.” + </p> + <p> + “Honest?” persisted Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Shake hands on it,” said Jessamine. + </p> + <p> + “Cause I'll go to school. But I won't go back to Laramie for no one. And + you're a-going to be Lin's wife, honest?” + </p> + <p> + “Honest! Honest!” And Jessamine, laughing, grew red beside her lamp. + </p> + <p> + “Then I guess mother can't never come back to Lin, either,” stated Billy, + relieved. + </p> + <p> + Jessamine let fall the child's hand. + </p> + <p> + “Cause she liked him onced, and he liked her.” + </p> + <p> + Jessamine gazed at Lin. + </p> + <p> + “It's simple,” said the cow-puncher. “It's all right.” + </p> + <p> + But Jessamine sat by her lamp, very pale. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” repeated Lin in the silence, shifting his foot and + looking down. “Once I made a fool of myself. Worse than usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Billy?” whispered Jessamine. “Then you—But his name is Lusk!” + </p> + <p> + “Course it is,” said Billy. “Father and mother are living in Laramie.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all straight,” said the cow-puncher. “I never saw her till three + years ago. I haven't anything to hide, only—only—only it don't + come easy to tell.” + </p> + <p> + I rose. “Miss Buckner,” said I, “he will tell you. But he will not tell + you he paid dearly for what was no fault of his. It has been no secret. It + is only something his friends and his enemies have forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + But all the while I was speaking this, Jessamine's eyes were fixed on Lin, + and her face remained white. + </p> + <p> + I left the girl and the man and the little boy together, and crossed to + the hotel. But its air was foul, and I got my roll of camp blankets to + sleep in the clean night, if sleeping-time should come; meanwhile I walked + about in the silence To have taken a wife once in good faith, ignorant she + was another's, left no stain, raised no barrier. I could have told + Jessamine the same old story myself—or almost; but what had it to do + with her at all? Why need she know? Reasoning thus, yet with something + left uncleared by reason that I could not state, I watched the moon edge + into sight, heavy and rich-hued, a melon-slice of glow, seemingly near, + like a great lantern tilted over the plain. The smell of the sage-brush + flavored the air; the hush of Wyoming folded distant and near things, and + all Separ but those three inside the lighted window were in bed. Dark + windows were everywhere else, and looming above rose the water-tank, a + dull mass in the night, and forever somehow to me a Sphinx emblem, the + vision I instantly see when I think of Separ. Soon I heard a door + creaking. It was Billy, coming alone, and on seeing me he walked up and + spoke in a half-awed voice. + </p> + <p> + “She's a-crying,” said he. + </p> + <p> + I withheld from questions, and as he kept along by my side he said: “I'm + sorry. Do you think she's mad with Lin for what he's told her? She just + sat, and when she started crying he made me go away.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe she's mad,” I told Billy; and I sat down on my blanket, + he beside me, talking while the moon grew small as it rose over the plain, + and the light steadily shone in Jessamine's window. Soon young Billy fell + asleep, and I looked at him, thinking how in a way it was he who had + brought this trouble on the man who had saved him and loved him. But that + man had no such untender thoughts. Once more the door opened, and it was + he who came this time, alone also. She did not follow him and stand to + watch him from the threshold, though he forgot to close the door, and, + coming over to me, stood looking down. + </p> + <p> + “What?” I said at length. + </p> + <p> + I don't know that he heard me. He stooped over Billy and shook him gently. + “Wake, son,” said he. “You and I must get to our camp now.” + </p> + <p> + “Now?” said Billy. “Can't we wait till morning?” + </p> + <p> + “No, son. We can't wait here any more. Go and get the horses and put the + saddles on.” As Billy obeyed, Lin looked at the lighted window. “She is in + there,” he said. “She's in there. So near.” He looked, and turned to the + hotel, from which he brought his chaps and spurs and put them on. “I + understand her words,” he continued. “Her words, the meaning of them. But + not what she means, I guess. It will take studyin' over. Why, she don't + blame me!” he suddenly said, speaking to me instead of to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Lin,” I answered, “she has only just heard this, you see. Wait awhile.” + </p> + <p> + “That's not the trouble. She knows what kind of man I have been, and she + forgives that just the way she did her brother. And she knows how I didn't + intentionally conceal anything. Billy hasn't been around, and she never + realized about his mother and me. We've talked awful open, but that was + not pleasant to speak of, and the whole country knew it so long—and + I never thought! She don't blame me. She says she understands; but she + says I have a wife livin'.” + </p> + <p> + “That is nonsense,” I declared. + </p> + <p> + “Yu' mustn't say that,” said he. “She don't claim she's a wife, either. + She just shakes her head when I asked her why she feels so. It must be + different to you and me from the way it seems to her. I don't see her + view; maybe I never can see it; but she's made me feel she has it, and + that she's honest, and loves me true—” His voice broke for a moment. + “She said she'd wait.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't have a marriage broken that was never tied,” I said. “But + perhaps Governor Barker or Judge Henry—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the cow-puncher. “Law couldn't fool her. She's thinking of + something back of law. She said she'd wait—always. And when I took + it in that this was all over and done, and when I thought of my ranch and + the chickens—well, I couldn't think of things at all, and I came and + waked Billy to clear out and quit.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you tell her?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her? Nothin', I guess. I don't remember getting out of the room. + Why, here's actually her pistol, and she's got mine!” + </p> + <p> + “Man, man!” said I, “go back and tell her to keep it, and that you'll wait + too—always!” + </p> + <p> + “Would yu'?” + </p> + <p> + “Look!” I pointed to Jessamine standing in the door. + </p> + <p> + I saw his face as he turned to her, and I walked toward Billy and the + horses. Presently I heard steps on the wooden station, and from its black, + brief shadow the two came walking, Lin and his sweetheart, into the + moonlight. They were not speaking, but merely walked together in the clear + radiance, hand in hand, like two children. I saw that she was weeping, and + that beneath the tyranny of her resolution her whole loving, ample nature + was wrung. But the strange, narrow fibre in her would not yield! I saw + them go to the horses, and Jessamine stood while Billy and Lin mounted. + Then quickly the cow-puncher sprang down again and folded her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Lin, dear Lin! dear neighbor!” she sobbed. She could not withhold this + last good-bye. + </p> + <p> + I do not think he spoke. In a moment the horses started and were gone, + flying, rushing away into the great plain, until sight and sound of them + were lost, and only the sage-brush was there, bathed in the high, bright + moon. The last thing I remember as I lay in my blankets was Jessamine's + window still lighted, and the water-tank, clear-lined and black, standing + over Separ. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DESTINY AT DRYBONE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I + </h2> + <p> + Children have many special endowments, and of these the chiefest is to ask + questions that their elders must skirmish to evade. Married people and + aunts and uncles commonly discover this, but mere instinct does not guide + one to it. A maiden of twenty-three will not necessarily divine it. Now + except in one unhappy hour of stress and surprise, Miss Jessamine Buckner + had been more than equal to life thus far. But never yet had she been shut + up a whole day in one room with a boy of nine. Had this experience been + hers, perhaps she would not have written to Mr. McLean the friendly and + singular letter in which she hoped he was well, and said that she was very + well, and how was dear little Billy? She was glad Mr. McLean had stayed + away. That was just like his honorable nature, and what she expected of + him. And she was perfectly happy at Separ, and “yours sincerely and + always, 'Neighbor.'” Postscript. Talking of Billy Lusk—if Lin was + busy with gathering the cattle, why not send Billy down to stop quietly + with her. She would make him a bed in the ticket-office, and there she + would be to see after him all the time. She knew Lin did not like his + adopted child to be too much in cow-camp with the men. She would adopt + him, too, for just as long as convenient to Lin—until the school + opened on Bear Creek, if Lin so wished. Jessamine wrote a good deal about + how much better care any woman can take of a boy of Billy's age than any + man knows. The stage-coach brought the answer to this remarkably soon—young + Billy with a trunk and a letter of twelve pages in pencil and ink—the + only writing of this length ever done by Mr. McLean. + </p> + <p> + “I can write a lot quicker than Lin,” said Billy, upon arriving. “He was + fussing at that away late by the fire in camp, an' waked me up crawling in + our bed. An' then he had to finish it next night when he went over to the + cabin for my clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't say!” said Jessamine. And Billy suffered her to kiss him again. + </p> + <p> + When not otherwise occupied Jessamine took the letter out of its locked + box and read it, or looked at it. Thus the first days had gone finely at + Separ, the weather being beautiful and Billy much out-of-doors. But + sometimes the weather changes in Wyoming; and now it was that Miss + Jessamine learned the talents of childhood. + </p> + <p> + Soon after breakfast this stormy morning Billy observed the twelve pages + being taken out of their box, and spoke from his sudden brain. “Honey + Wiggin says Lin's losing his grip about girls,” he remarked. “He says you + couldn't 'a' downed him onced. You'd 'a' had to marry him. Honey says Lin + ain't worked it like he done in old times.” + </p> + <p> + “Now I shouldn't wonder if he was right,” said Jessamine, buoyantly. “And + that being the case, I'm going to set to work at your things till it + clears, and then we'll go for our ride.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Billy. “When does a man get too old to marry?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm only a girl, you see. I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Honey said he wouldn't 'a' thought Lin was that old. But I guess he + must be thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “Old!” exclaimed Jessamine. And she looked at a photograph upon her table. + </p> + <p> + “But Lin ain't been married very much,” pursued Billy. “Mother's the only + one they speak of. You don't have to stay married always, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “It's better to,” said Jessamine. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I don't think so,” said Billy, with disparagement. “You ought to see + mother and father. I wish you would leave Lin marry you, though,” said the + boy, coming to her with an impulse of affection. “Why won't you if he + don't mind?” + </p> + <p> + She continued to parry him, but this was not a very smooth start for eight + in the morning. Moments of lull there were, when the telegraph called her + to the front room, and Billy's young mind shifted to inquiries about the + cipher alphabet. And she gained at least an hour teaching him to read + various words by the sound. At dinner, too, he was refreshingly silent. + But such silences are unsafe, and the weather was still bad. Four o'clock + found them much where they had been at eight. + </p> + <p> + “Please tell me why you won't leave Lin marry you.” He was at the window, + kicking the wall. + </p> + <p> + “That's nine times since dinner,” she replied, with tireless good humor. + “Now if you ask me twelve—” + </p> + <p> + “You'll tell?” said the boy, swiftly. + </p> + <p> + She broke into a laugh. “No. I'll go riding and you'll stay at home. When + I was little and would ask things beyond me, they only gave me three + times.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got two more, anyway. Ha-ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Better save 'em up, though.” + </p> + <p> + “What did they do to you? Ah, I don't want to go a-riding. It's nasty all + over.” He stared out at the day against which Separ's doors had been tight + closed since morning. Eight hours of furious wind had raised the dust like + a sea. “I wish the old train would come,” observed Billy, continuing to + kick the wall. “I wish I was going somewheres.” Smoky, level, and hot, the + south wind leapt into Separ across five hundred unbroken miles. The plain + was blanketed in a tawny eclipse. Each minute the near buildings became + invisible in a turbulent herd of clouds. Above this travelling blur of the + soil the top of the water-tank alone rose bulging into the clear sun. The + sand spirals would lick like flames along the bulk of the lofty tub, and + soar skyward. It was not shipping season. The freight-cars stood idle in a + long line. No cattle huddled in the corrals. No strangers moved in town. + No cow-ponies dozed in front of the saloon. Their riders were distant in + ranch and camp. Human noise was extinct in Separ. Beneath the thunder of + the sultry blasts the place lay dead in its flapping shroud of dust. “Why + won't you tell me?” droned Billy. For some time he had been returning, + like a mosquito brushed away. + </p> + <p> + “That's ten times,” said Jessamine, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, goodness! Pretty soon I'll not be glad I came. I'm about twiced as + less glad now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Jessamine, “there's a man coming to-day to mend the + government telegraph-line between Drybone and McKinney. Maybe he would + take you back as far as Box Elder, if you want to go very much. Shall I + ask him?” + </p> + <p> + Billy was disappointed at this cordial seconding of his mood. He did not + make a direct rejoinder. “I guess I'll go outside now,” said he, with a + threat in his tone. + </p> + <p> + She continued mending his stockings. Finished ones lay rolled at one side + of her chair, and upon the other were more waiting her attention. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm going to turn back hand-springs on top of all the freight-cars,” + he stated, more loudly. + </p> + <p> + She indulged again in merriment, laughing sweetly at him, and without + restraint. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm sick of what you all keep a-saying to me!” he shouted. “Just as + if I was a baby.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Billy, who ever said you were a baby?” + </p> + <p> + “All of you do. Honey, and Lin, and you, now, and everybody. What makes + you say 'that's nine times, Billy; oh, Billy, that's ten times,' if you + don't mean I'm a baby? And you laugh me off, just like they do, and just + like I was a regular baby. You won't tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “Billy, listen. Did nobody ever ask you something you did not want to tell + them?” + </p> + <p> + “That's not a bit the same, because—because—because I treat + 'em square and because it's not their business. But every time I ask + anybody 'most anything, they say I'm not old enough to understand; and + I'll be ten soon. And it is my business when it's about the kind of a + mother I'm agoing to have. Suppose I quit acting square, an' told 'em, + when they bothered me, they weren't young enough to understand! Wish I + had. Guess I will, too, and watch 'em step around.” For a moment his mind + dwelt upon this, and he whistled a revengeful strain. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness, Billy!” said Jessamine, at the sight of the next stocking. “The + whole heel is scorched off.” + </p> + <p> + He eyed the ruin with indifference. “Ah, that was last month when I and + Lin shot the bear in the swamp willows. He made me dry off my legs. Chuck + it away.” + </p> + <p> + “And spoil the pair? No, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Mother always chucked 'em, an' father'd buy new ones till I skipped from + home. Lin kind o' mends 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he?” said Jessamine, softly. And she looked at the photograph. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What made you write him for to let me come and bring my stockin's + and things?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see, Billy, there is so little work at this station that I'd be + looking out of the window all day just the pitiful way you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Billy pondered. “And so I said to Lin,” he continued, “why didn't he + send down his own clothes, too, an' let you fix 'em all. And Honey Wiggin + laughed right in his coffee-cup so it all sploshed out. And the cook he + asked me if mother used to mend Lin's clothes. But I guess she chucked 'em + like she always did father's and mine. I was with father, you know, when + mother was married to Lin that time.” He paused again, while his thoughts + and fears struggled. “But Lin says I needn't ever go back,” he went on, + reasoning and confiding to her. “Lin don't like mother any more, I guess.” + His pondering grew still deeper, and he looked at Jessamine for some + while. Then his face wakened with a new theory. “Don't Lin like you any + more?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Jessamine, crimsoning, “yes! Why, he sent you to me!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he got hot in camp when I said that about sending his clothes to + you. He quit supper pretty soon, and went away off a walking. And that's + another time they said I was too young. But Lin don't come to see you any + more.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I hope he loves me,” murmured Jessamine. “Always.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope so too,” said Billy, earnestly. “For I like you. When I seen + him show you our cabin on Box Elder, and the room he had fixed for you, I + was glad you were coming to be my mother. Mother used to be awful. I + wouldn't 'a' minded her licking me if she'd done other things. Ah, pshaw! + I wasn't going to stand that.” Billy now came close to Jessamine. “I do + wish you would come and live with me and Lin,” said he. “Lin's awful + nice.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I know it?” said Jessamine, tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Cause I heard you say you were going to marry him,” went on Billy. “And I + seen him kiss you and you let him that time we went away when you found + out about mother. And you're not mad, and he's not, and nothing happens at + all, all the same! Won't you tell me, please?” + </p> + <p> + Jessamine's eyes were glistening, and she took him in her lap. She was not + going to tell him that he was too young this time. But whatever things she + had shaped to say to the boy were never said. + </p> + <p> + Through the noise of the gale came the steadier sound of the train, and + the girl rose quickly to preside over her ticket-office and duties behind + the railing in the front room of the station. The boy ran to the window to + watch the great event of Separ's day. The locomotive loomed out from the + yellow clots of drift, paused at the water-tank, and then with steam and + humming came slowly on by the platform. Slowly its long dust-choked train + emerged trundling behind it, and ponderously halted. There was no one to + go. No one came to buy a ticket of Jessamine. The conductor looked in on + business, but she had no telegraphic orders for him. The express agent + jumped off and looked in for pleasure. He received his daily smile and nod + of friendly discouragement. Then the light bundle of mail was flung inside + the door. Separ had no mail to go out. As she was picking up the letters + young Billy passed her like a shadow, and fled out. Two passengers had + descended from the train, a man and a large woman. His clothes were loose + and careless upon him. He held valises, and stood uncertainly looking + about him in the storm. Her firm, heavy body was closely dressed. In her + hat was a large, handsome feather. Along between the several cars brakemen + leaned out, watched her, and grinned to each other. But her big, + hard-shining blue eyes were fixed curiously upon the station where + Jessamine was. + </p> + <p> + “It's all night we may be here, is it?” she said to the man, harshly. + </p> + <p> + “How am I to help that?” he retorted. + </p> + <p> + “I'll help it. If this hotel's the sty it used to be, I'll walk to + Tommy's. I've not saw him since I left Bear Creek.” + </p> + <p> + She stalked into the hotel, while the man went slowly to the station. He + entered, and found Jessamine behind her railing, sorting the slim mail. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening,” he said. “Excuse me. There was to be a wagon sent here.” + </p> + <p> + “For the telegraph-mender? Yes, sir. It came Tuesday. You're to find the + pole-wagon at Drybone.” + </p> + <p> + This news was good, and all that he wished to know. He could drive out and + escape a night at the Hotel Brunswick. But he lingered, because Jessamine + spoke so pleasantly to him. He had heard of her also. + </p> + <p> + “Governor Barker has not been around here?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet, sir. We understand he is expected through on a hunting-trip.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose there is room for two and a trunk on that wagon?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon so, sir.” Jessamine glanced at the man, and he took himself out. + Most men took themselves out if Jessamine so willed; and it was mostly + achieved thus, in amity. + </p> + <p> + On the platform the man found his wife again. + </p> + <p> + “Then I needn't to walk to Tommy's,” she said. “And we'll eat as we + travel. But you'll wait till I'm through with her.” She made a gesture + toward the station. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—what do you want with her. Don't you know who she + is?” + </p> + <p> + “It was me told you who she was, James Lusk. You'll wait till I've been + and asked her after Lin McLean's health, and till I've saw how the likes + of her talks to the likes of me.” + </p> + <p> + He made a feeble protest that this would do no one any good. + </p> + <p> + “Sew yourself up, James Lusk. If it has been your idea I come with yus + clear from Laramie to watch yus plant telegraph-poles in the sage-brush, + why you're off. I ain't heard much 'o Lin since the day he learned it was + you and not him that was my husband. And I've come back in this country to + have a look at my old friends—and” (she laughed loudly and nodded at + the station) “my old friends' new friends!” + </p> + <p> + Thus ordered, the husband wandered away to find his wagon and the horse. + </p> + <p> + Jessamine, in the office, had finished her station duties and returned to + her needle. She sat contemplating the scorched sock of Billy's, and heard + a heavy step at the threshold. She turned, and there was the large woman + with the feather quietly surveying her. The words which the stranger spoke + then were usual enough for a beginning. But there was something of threat + in the strong animal countenance, something of laughter ready to break + out. Much beauty of its kind had evidently been in the face, and now, as + substitute for what was gone, was the brag look of assertion that it was + still all there. Many stranded travellers knocked at Jessamine's door, and + now, as always, she offered the hospitalities of her neat abode, the only + room in Separ fit for a woman. As she spoke, and the guest surveyed and + listened, the door blew shut with a crash. + </p> + <p> + Outside, in a shed, Billy had placed the wagon between himself and his + father. + </p> + <p> + “How you have grown!” the man was saying; and he smiled. “Come, shake + hands. I did not think to see you here.” + </p> + <p> + “Dare you to touch me!” Billy screamed. “No, I'll never come with you. Lin + says I needn't to.” + </p> + <p> + The man passed his hand across his forehead, and leaned against the wheel. + “Lord, Lord!” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + His son warily slid out of the shed and left him leaning there. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + <p> + Lin McLean, bachelor, sat out in front of his cabin, looking at a small + bright pistol that lay in his hand. He held it tenderly, cherishing it, + and did not cease slowly to polish it. Revery filled his eyes, and in his + whole face was sadness unmasked, because only the animals were there to + perceive his true feelings. Sunlight and waving shadows moved together + upon the green of his pasture, cattle and horses loitered in the opens by + the stream. Down Box Elder's course, its valley and golden-chimneyed + bluffs widened away into the level and the blue of the greater valley. + Upstream the branches and shining, quiet leaves entered the mountains + where the rock chimneys narrowed to a gateway, a citadel of shafts and + turrets, crimson and gold above the filmy emerald of the trees. Through + there the road went up from the cotton-woods into the cool quaking asps + and pines, and so across the range and away to Separ. Along the ridge-pole + of the new stable, two hundred yards down-stream, sat McLean's turkeys, + and cocks and hens walked in front of him here by his cabin and fenced + garden. Slow smoke rose from the cabin's chimney into the air, in which + were no sounds but the running water and the afternoon chirp of birds. + Amid this framework of a home the cow-puncher sat, lonely, inattentive, + polishing the treasured weapon as if it were not already long clean. His + target stood some twenty steps in front of him—a small + cottonwood-tree, its trunk chipped and honeycombed with bullets which he + had fired into it each day for memory's sake. Presently he lifted the + pistol and looked at its name—the word “Neighbor” engraved upon it. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” said he, aloud, “if she keeps the rust off mine?” Then he + lifted it slowly to his lips and kissed the word “Neighbor.” + </p> + <p> + The clank of wheels sounded on the road, and he put the pistol quickly + down. Dreaminess vanished from his face. He looked around alertly, but no + one had seen him. The clanking was still among the trees a little distance + up Box Elder. It approached deliberately, while he watched for the vehicle + to emerge upon the open where his cabin stood; and then they came, a man + and a woman. At sight of her Mr. McLean half rose, but sat down again. + Neither of them had noticed him, sitting as they were in silence and the + drowsiness of a long drive. The man was weak-faced, with good looks + sallowed by dissipation, and a vanquished glance of the eye. As the woman + had stood on the platform at Separ, so she sat now, upright, bold, and + massive. The brag of past beauty was a habit settled upon her stolid + features. Both sat inattentive to each other and to everything around + them. The wheels turned slowly and with a dry, dead noise, the reins + bellied loosely to the shafts, the horse's head hung low. So they drew + close. Then the man saw McLean, and color came into his face and went + away. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening,” said he, clearing his throat. “We heard you was in + cow-camp.” + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher noted how he tried to smile, and a freakish change crossed + his own countenance. He nodded slightly, and stretched his legs out as he + sat. + </p> + <p> + “You look natural,” said the woman, familiarly. + </p> + <p> + “Seem to be fixed nice here,” continued the man. “Hadn't heard of it. + Well, we'll be going along. Glad to have seen you.” + </p> + <p> + “Your wheel wants greasing,” said McLean, briefly, his eye upon the man. + </p> + <p> + “Can't stop. I expect she'll last to Drybone. Good-evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay to supper,” said McLean, always seated on his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Can't stop, thank you. I expect we can last to Drybone.” He twitched the + reins. + </p> + <p> + McLean levelled a pistol at a chicken, and knocked off its head. “Better + stay to supper,” he suggested, very distinctly. + </p> + <p> + “It's business, I tell you. I've got to catch Governor Barker before he—” + </p> + <p> + The pistol cracked, and a second chicken shuffled in the dust. “Better + stay to supper,” drawled McLean. + </p> + <p> + The man looked up at his wife. + </p> + <p> + “So yus need me!” she broke out. “Ain't got heart enough in yer played-out + body to stand up to a man. We'll eat here. Get down.” + </p> + <p> + The husband stepped to the ground. “I didn't suppose you'd want—” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! want? What's Lin, or you, or anything to me? Help me out.” + </p> + <p> + Both men came forward. She descended, leaning heavily upon each, her blue + staring eyes fixed upon the cow-puncher. + </p> + <p> + “No, yus ain't changed,” she said. “Same in your looks and same in your + actions. Was you expecting you could scare me, you, Lin McLean?” + </p> + <p> + “I just wanted chickens for supper,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lusk gave a hard high laugh. “I'll eat 'em. It's not I that cares. As + for—” She stopped. Her eye had fallen upon the pistol and the name + “Neighbor.” “As for you,” she continued to Mr. Lusk, “don't you be + standing dumb same as the horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Better take him to the stable, Lusk,” said McLean. + </p> + <p> + He picked the chickens up, showed the woman to the best chair in his room, + and went into his kitchen to cook supper for three. He gave his guests no + further attention, nor did either of them come in where he was, nor did + the husband rejoin the wife. He walked slowly up and down in the air, and + she sat by herself in the room. Lin's steps as he made ready round the + stove and table, and Lusk's slow tread out in the setting sunlight, were + the only sounds about the cabin. When the host looked into the door of the + next room to announce that his meal was served, the woman sat in her chair + no longer, but stood with her back to him by a shelf. She gave a slight + start at his summons, and replaced something. He saw that she had been + examining “Neighbor,” and his face hardened suddenly to fierceness as he + looked at her; but he repeated quietly that she had better come in. Thus + did the three sit down to their meal. Occasionally a word about handing + some dish fell from one or other of them, but nothing more, until Lusk + took out his watch and mentioned the hour. + </p> + <p> + “Yu've not ate especially hearty,” said Lin, resting his arms upon the + table. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going,” asserted Lusk. “Governor Barker may start out. I've got my + interests to look after.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sure,” said Lin. “I can't hope you'll waste all your time on just + me.” + </p> + <p> + Lusk rose and looked at his wife. “It'll be ten now before we get to + Drybone,” said he. And he went down to the stable. + </p> + <p> + The woman sat still, pressing the crumbs of her bread. “I know you seen + me,” she said, without looking at him. + </p> + <p> + “Saw you when?” + </p> + <p> + “I knowed it. And I seen how you looked at me.” She sat twisting and + pressing the crumb. Sometimes it was round, sometimes it was a cube, now + and then she flattened it to a disk. Mr. McLean seemed to have nothing + that he wished to reply. + </p> + <p> + “If you claim that pistol is yourn,” she said next, “I'll tell you I know + better. If you ask me whose should it be if not yourn, I would not have to + guess the name. She has talked to me, and me to her.” + </p> + <p> + She was still looking away from him at the bread-crumb, or she could have + seen that McLean's hand was trembling as he watched her leaning on his + arms. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, she was willing to talk to me!” The woman uttered another sudden + laugh. “I knowed about her—all. Things get heard of in this world. + Did not all about you and me come to her knowledge in its own good time, + and it done and gone how many years? My, my, my!” Her voice grew slow and + absent. She stopped for a moment, and then more rapidly resumed: “It had + travelled around about you and her like it always will travel. It was + known how you had asked her, and how she had told you she would have you, + and then told you she would not when she learned about you and me. Folks + that knowed yus and folks that never seen yus in their lives had to have + their word about her facing you down you had another wife, though she + knowed the truth about me being married to Lusk and him livin' the day you + married me, and ten and twenty marriages could not have tied you and me + up, no matter how honest you swore to no hinderance. Folks said it was + plain she did not want yus. It give me a queer feelin' to see that girl. + It give me a wish to tell her to her face that she did not love yus and + did not know love. Wait—wait, Lin! Yu' never hit me yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the cow-puncher. “Nor now. I'm not Lusk.” + </p> + <p> + “Yu' looked so—so bad, Lin. I never seen yu' look so bad in old + days. Wait, now, and I must tell it. I wished to laugh in her face and + say, 'What do you know about love?' So I walked in. Lin, she does love + yus!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” breathed McLean. + </p> + <p> + “She was sittin' back in her room at Separ. Not the ticket-office, but—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” the cow-puncher said. His eyes were burning. + </p> + <p> + “It's snug, the way she has it. 'Good-afternoon,' I says. 'Is this Miss + Jessamine Buckner?'” + </p> + <p> + At his sweetheart's name the glow in Lin's eyes seemed to quiver to a + flash. + </p> + <p> + “And she spoke pleasant to me—pleasant and gay-like. But a woman can + tell sorrow in a woman's eyes. And she asked me would I rest in her room + there, and what was my name. 'They tell me you claim to know it better + than I do,' I says. 'They tell me you say it is Mrs. McLean.' She put her + hand on her breast, and she keeps lookin' at me without never speaking. + 'Maybe I am not so welcome now,' I says. 'One minute,' says she. 'Let me + get used to it.' And she sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Lin, she is a square-lookin' girl. I'll say that for her. + </p> + <p> + “I never thought to sit down onced myself; I don't know why, but I kep' + a-standing, and I took in that room of hers. She had flowers and things + around there, and I seen your picture standing on the table, and I seen + your six-shooter right by it—and, oh, Lin, hadn't I knowed your face + before ever she did, and that gun you used to let me shoot on Bear Creek? + It took me that sudden! Why, it rushed over me so I spoke right out + different from what I'd meant and what I had ready fixed up to say. + </p> + <p> + “'Why did you do it?' I says to her, while she was a-sitting. 'How could + you act so, and you a woman?' She just sat, and her sad eyes made me + madder at the idea of her. 'You have had real sorrow,' says I, 'if they + report correct. You have knowed your share of death, and misery, and hard + work, and all. Great God! ain't there things enough that come to yus + uncalled for and natural, but you must run around huntin' up more that was + leavin' yus alone and givin' yus a chance? I knowed him onced. I knowed + your Lin McLean. And when that was over, I knowed for the first time how + men can be different.' I'm started, Lin, I'm started. Leave me go on, and + when I'm through I'll quit. 'Some of 'em, anyway,' I says to her, 'has + hearts and self-respect, and ain't hogs clean through.' + </p> + <p> + “'I know,” she says, thoughtful-like. + </p> + <p> + “And at her whispering that way I gets madder. + </p> + <p> + “'You know!' I says then. 'What is it that you know? Do you know that you + have hurt a good man's heart? For onced I hurt it myself, though + different. And hurts in them kind of hearts stays. Some hearts is that + luscious and pasty you can stab 'em and it closes up so yu'd never + suspicion the place—but Lin McLean! Nor yet don't yus believe his is + the kind that breaks—if any kind does that. You may sit till the + gray hairs, and you may wall up your womanhood, but if a man has got + manhood like him, he will never sit till the gray hairs. Grief over losin' + the best will not stop him from searchin' for a second best after a while. + He wants a home, and he has got a right to one,' says I to Miss Jessamine. + 'You have not walled up Lin McLean,' I says to her. Wait, Lin, wait. Yus + needn't to tell me that's a lie. I know a man thinks he's walled up for a + while.” + </p> + <p> + “She could have told you it was a lie,” said the cow-puncher. + </p> + <p> + “She did not. 'Let him get a home,' says she. 'I want him to be happy.' + 'That flash in your eyes talks different,' says I. 'Sure enough yus wants + him to be happy. Sure enough. But not happy along with Miss Second Best.' + </p> + <p> + “Lin, she looked at me that piercin'! + </p> + <p> + “And I goes on, for I was wound away up. 'And he will be happy, too,' I + says. 'Miss Second Best will have a talk with him about your picture and + little “Neighbor,” which he'll not send back to yus, because the hurt in + his heart is there. And he will keep 'em out of sight somewheres after his + talk with Miss Second Best.' Lin, Lin, I laughed at them words of mine, + but I was that wound up I was strange to myself. And she watchin' me that + way! And I says to her: 'Miss Second Best will not be the crazy thing to + think I am any wife of his standing in her way. He will tell her about me. + He will tell how onced he thought he was solid married to me till Lusk + came back; and she will drop me out of sight along with the rest that went + nameless. They was not uncomprehensible to you, was they? You have learned + something by livin', I guess! And Lin—your Lin, not mine, nor never + mine in heart for a day so deep as he's yourn right now—he has been + gay—gay as any I've knowed. Why, look at that face of his! Could a + boy with a face like that help bein' gay? But that don't touch what's the + true Lin deep down. Nor will his deep-down love for you hinder him like it + will hinder you. Don't you know men and us is different when it comes to + passion? We're all one thing then, but they ain't simple. They keep along + with lots of other things. I can't make yus know, and I guess it takes a + woman like I have been to learn their nature. But you did know he loved + you, and you sent him away, and you'll be homeless in yer house when he + has done the right thing by himself and found another girl.' + </p> + <p> + “Lin, all the while I was talkin' all I knowed to her, without knowin' + what I'd be sayin' next, for it come that unexpected, she was lookin' at + me with them steady eyes. And all she says when I quit was, 'If I saw him + I would tell him to find a home.'” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't she tell yu' she'd made me promise to keep away from seeing her?” + asked the cow-puncher. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lusk laughed. “Oh, you innocent!” said she. + </p> + <p> + “She said if I came she would leave Separ,” muttered McLean, brooding. + </p> + <p> + Again the large woman laughed out, but more harshly. + </p> + <p> + “I have kept my promise,” Lin continued. + </p> + <p> + “Keep it some more. Sit here rotting in your chair till she goes away. + Maybe she's gone.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” said Lin. But still she only laughed harshly. “I could be + there by to-morrow night,” he murmured. Then his face softened. “She would + never do such a thing!” he said, to himself. + </p> + <p> + He had forgotten the woman at the table. While she had told him matters + that concerned him he had listened eagerly. Now she was of no more + interest than she had been before her story was begun. She looked at his + eyes as he sat thinking and dwelling upon his sweetheart. She looked at + him, and a longing welled up into her face. A certain youth and heavy + beauty relighted the features. + </p> + <p> + “You are the same, same Lin everyways,” she said. “A woman is too many for + you still, Lin!” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + At her summons he looked up from his revery. + </p> + <p> + “Lin, I would not have treated you so.” + </p> + <p> + The caress that filled her voice was plain. His look met hers as he sat + quite still, his arms on the table. Then he took his turn at laughing. + </p> + <p> + “You!” he said. “At least I've had plenty of education in you.” + </p> + <p> + “Lin, Lin, don't talk that brutal to me to-day. If yus knowed how near I + come shooting myself with 'Neighbor.' That would have been funny! + </p> + <p> + “I knowed yus wanted to tear that pistol out of my hand because it was + hern. But yus never did such things to me, fer there's a gentleman in you + somewheres, Lin. And yus didn't never hit me, not even when you come to + know me well. And when I seen you so unexpected again to-night, and you + just the same old Lin, scaring Lusk with shooting them chickens, so comic + and splendid, I could 'a' just killed Lusk sittin' in the wagon. Say, Lin, + what made yus do that, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't hardly say,” said the cow-puncher. “Only noticing him so turruble + anxious to quit me—well, a man acts without thinking.” + </p> + <p> + “You always did, Lin. You was always a comical genius. Lin, them were good + times.” + </p> + <p> + “Which times?” + </p> + <p> + “You know. You can't tell me you have forgot.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not forgot much. What's the sense in this?” + </p> + <p> + “Yus never loved me!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Shucks!” + </p> + <p> + “Lin, Lin, is it all over? You know yus loved me on Bear Creek. Say you + did. Only say it was once that way.” And as he sat, she came and put her + arms round his neck. For a moment he did not move, letting himself be + held; and then she kissed him. The plates crashed as he beat and struck + her down upon the table. He was on his feet, cursing himself. As he went + out of the door, she lay where she had fallen beneath his fist, looking + after him and smiling. + </p> + <p> + McLean walked down Box Elder Creek through the trees toward the stable, + where Lusk had gone to put the horse in the wagon. Once he leaned his hand + against a big cotton-wood, and stood still with half-closed eyes. Then he + continued on his way. “Lusk!” he called, presently, and in a few steps + more, “Lusk!” Then, as he came slowly out of the trees to meet the husband + he began, with quiet evenness, “Your wife wants to know—” But he + stopped. No husband was there. Wagon and horse were not there. The door + was shut. The bewildered cow-puncher looked up the stream where the road + went, and he looked down. Out of the sky where daylight and stars were + faintly shining together sounded the long cries of the night hawks as they + sped and swooped to their hunting in the dusk. From among the trees by the + stream floated a cooler air, and distant and close by sounded the + splashing water. About the meadow where Lin stood his horses fed, quietly + crunching. He went to the door, looked in, and shut it again. He walked to + his shed and stood contemplating his own wagon alone there. Then he lifted + away a piece of trailing vine from the gate of the corral, while the + turkeys moved their heads and watched him from the roof. A rope was + hanging from the corral, and seeing it, he dropped the vine. He opened the + corral gate, and walked quickly back into the middle of the field, where + the horses saw him and his rope, and scattered. But he ran and herded + them, whirling the rope, and so drove them into the corral, and flung his + noose over two. He dragged two saddles—men's saddles—from the + stable, and next he was again at his cabin door with the horses saddled. + She was sitting quite still by the table where she had sat during the + meal, nor did she speak or move when she saw him look in at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Lusk has gone,” said he. “I don't know what he expected you would do, or + I would do. But we will catch him before he gets to Drybone.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with her dumb stare. “Gone?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Get up and ride,” said McLean. “You are going to Drybone.” + </p> + <p> + “Drybone?” she echoed. Her voice was toneless and dull. + </p> + <p> + He made no more explanations to her, but went quickly about the cabin. + Soon he had set it in order, the dishes on their shelves, the table clean, + the fire in the stove arranged; and all these movements she followed with + a sort of blank mechanical patience. He made a small bundle for his own + journey, tied it behind his saddle, brought her horse beside a stump. When + at his sharp order she came out, he locked his cabin and hung the key by a + window, where travellers could find it and be at home. + </p> + <p> + She stood looking where her husband had slunk off. Then she laughed. “It's + about his size,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + Her old lover helped her in silence to mount into the man's saddle—this + they had often done together in former years—and so they took their + way down the silent road. They had not many miles to go, and after the + first two lay behind them, when the horses were limbered and had been put + to a canter, they made time quickly. They had soon passed out of the trees + and pastures of Box Elder and came among the vast low stretches of the + greater valley. Not even by day was the river's course often discernible + through the ridges and cheating sameness of this wilderness; and beneath + this half-darkness of stars and a quarter moon the sage spread shapeless + to the looming mountains, or to nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I will ask you one thing,” said Lin, after ten miles. + </p> + <p> + The woman made no sign of attention as she rode beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Did I understand that she—Miss Buckner, I mean—mentioned she + might be going away from Separ?” + </p> + <p> + “How do I know what you understood?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you said—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you bother me, Lin McLean.” Her laugh rang out, loud and forlorn—one + brief burst that startled the horses and that must have sounded far across + the sage-brush. “You men are rich,” she said. + </p> + <p> + They rode on, side by side, and saying nothing after that. The Drybone + road was a broad trail, a worn strip of bareness going onward over the + endless shelvings of the plain, visible even in this light; and presently, + moving upon its grayness on a hill in front of them, they made out the + wagon. They hastened and overtook it. + </p> + <p> + “Put your carbine down,” said McLean to Lusk. “It's not robbers. It's your + wife I'm bringing you.” He spoke very quietly. + </p> + <p> + The husband addressed no word to the cow-puncher “Get in, then,” he said + to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Town's not far now,” said Lin. “Maybe you would prefer riding the balance + of the way?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd—” But the note of pity that she felt in McLean's question + overcame her, and her utterance choked. She nodded her head, and the three + continued slowly climbing the hill together. + </p> + <p> + From the narrows of the steep, sandy, weather-beaten banks that the road + slanted upward through for a while, they came out again upon the immensity + of the table-land. Here, abruptly like an ambush, was the whole + unsuspected river close below to their right, as if it had emerged from + the earth. With a circling sweep from somewhere out in the gloom it cut in + close to the lofty mesa beneath tall clean-graded descents of sand, smooth + as a railroad embankment. As they paused on the level to breathe their + horses, the wet gulp of its eddies rose to them through the stillness. + Upstream they could make out the light of the Drybone bridge, but not the + bridge itself; and two lights on the farther bank showed where stood the + hog-ranch opposite Drybone. They went on over the table-land and reached + the next herald of the town, Drybone's chief historian, the graveyard. + Beneath its slanting headboards and wind-shifted sand lay many more people + than lived in Drybone. They passed by the fence of this shelterless acre + on the hill, and shoutings and high music began to reach them. At the foot + of the hill they saw the sparse lights and shapes of the town where ended + the gray strip of road. The many sounds—feet, voices, and music—grew + clearer, unravelling from their muffled confusion, and the fiddling became + a tune that could be known. + </p> + <p> + “There's a dance to-night,” said the wife to the husband. “Hurry.” + </p> + <p> + He drove as he had been driving. Perhaps he had not heard her. + </p> + <p> + “I'm telling you to hurry,” she repeated. “My new dress is in that wagon. + There'll be folks to welcome me here that's older friends than you.” + </p> + <p> + She put her horse to a gallop down the broad road toward the music and the + older friends. The husband spoke to his horse, cleared his throat and + spoke louder, cleared his throat again and this time his sullen voice + carried, and the animal started. So Lusk went ahead of Lin McLean, + following his wife with the new dress at as good a pace as he might. If he + did not want her company, perhaps to be alone with the cow-puncher was + still less to his mind. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't only her he's stopped caring for,” mused Lin, as he rode slowly + along. “He don't care for himself any more.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART3" id="link2H_PART3"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART III + </h2> + <p> + To-day, Drybone has altogether returned to the dust. Even in that day its + hour could have been heard beginning to sound, but its inhabitants were + rather deaf. Gamblers, saloon-keepers, murderers, outlaws male and female, + all were so busy with their cards, their lovers, and their bottles as to + make the place seem young and vigorous; but it was second childhood which + had set in. + </p> + <p> + Drybone had known a wholesome adventurous youth, where manly lives and + deaths were plenty. It had been an army post. It had seen horse and foot, + and heard the trumpet. Brave wives had kept house for their captains upon + its bluffs. Winter and summer they had made the best of it. When the War + Department ordered the captains to catch Indians, the wives bade them + Godspeed. When the Interior Department ordered the captains to let the + Indians go again, still they made the best of it. You must not waste + Indians. Indians were a source of revenue to so many people in Washington + and elsewhere. But the process of catching Indians, armed with weapons + sold them by friends of the Interior Department, was not entirely + harmless. Therefore there came to be graves in the Drybone graveyard. The + pale weather-washed head-boards told all about it: “Sacred to the memory + of Private So-and-So, killed on the Dry Cheyenne, May 6, 1875.” Or it + would be, “Mrs. So-and-So, found scalped on Sage Creek.” But even the + financiers at Washington could not wholly preserve the Indian in Drybone's + neighborhood. As the cattle by ten thousands came treading with the next + step of civilization into this huge domain, the soldiers were taken away. + Some of them went West to fight more Indians in Idaho, Oregon, or Arizona. + The battles of the others being done, they went East in better coffins to + sleep where their mothers or their comrades wanted them. Though wind and + rain wrought changes upon the hill, the ready-made graves and boxes which + these soldiers left behind proved heirlooms as serviceable in their way as + were the tenements that the living had bequeathed to Drybone. Into these + empty barracks came to dwell and do business every joy that made the + cow-puncher's holiday, and every hunted person who was baffling the + sheriff. For the sheriff must stop outside the line of Drybone, as shall + presently be made clear. The captain's quarters were a saloon now; + professional cards were going in the adjutant's office night and day; and + the commissary building made a good dance-hall and hotel. Instead of + guard-mounting, you would see a horse-race on the parade-ground, and there + was no provost-sergeant to gather up the broken bottles and old boots. + Heaps of these choked the rusty fountain. In the tufts of yellow, ragged + grass that dotted the place plentifully were lodged many aces and queens + and ten-spots, which the Drybone wind had blown wide from the doors out of + which they had been thrown when a new pack was called for inside. Among + the grass tufts would lie visitors who had applied for beds too late at + the dance-hall, frankly sleeping their whiskey off in the morning air. + </p> + <p> + Above, on the hill, the graveyard quietly chronicled this new epoch of + Drybone. So-and-so was seldom killed very far out of town, and of course + scalping had disappeared. “Sacred to the memory of Four-ace Johnston, + accidently shot, Sep. 4, 1885.” Perhaps one is still there unaltered: + “Sacred to the memory of Mrs. Ryan's babe. Aged two months.” This unique + corpse had succeeded in dying with its boots off. + </p> + <p> + But a succession of graves was not always needed to read the changing tale + of the place, and how people died there; one grave would often be enough. + The soldiers, of course, had kept treeless Drybone supplied with wood. But + in these latter days wood was very scarce. None grew nearer than twenty or + thirty miles—none, that is, to make boards of a sufficient width for + epitaphs. And twenty miles was naturally far to go to hew a board for a + man of whom you knew perhaps nothing but what he said his name was, and to + whom you owed nothing, perhaps, but a trifling poker debt. Hence it came + to pass that headboards grew into a sort of directory. They were light to + lift from one place to another. A single coat of white paint would wipe + out the first tenant's name sufficiently to paint over it the next + comer's. By this thrifty habit the original boards belonging to the + soldiers could go round, keeping pace with the new civilian population; + and though at first sight you might be puzzled by the layers of names + still visible beneath the white paint, you could be sure that the clearest + and blackest was the one to which the present tenant had answered. + </p> + <p> + So there on the hill lay the graveyard, steadily writing Drybone's + history, and making that history lay the town at the bottom—one thin + line of houses framing three sides of the old parade ground. In these + slowly rotting shells people rioted, believing the golden age was here, + the age when everybody should have money and nobody should be arrested. + For Drybone soil, you see, was still government soil, not yet handed over + to Wyoming; and only government could arrest there, and only for + government crimes. But government had gone, and seldom worried Drybone! + The spot was a postage-stamp of sanctuary pasted in the middle of + Wyoming's big map, a paradise for the Four-ace Johnstons. Only, you must + not steal a horse. That was really wicked, and brought you instantly to + the notice of Drybone's one official—the coroner! For they did keep + a coroner—Judge Slaghammer. He was perfectly illegal, and lived next + door in Albany County. But that county paid fees and mileage to keep tally + of Drybone's casualties. His wife owned the dance-hall, and between their + industries they made out a living. And all the citizens made out a living. + The happy cow-punchers on ranches far and near still earned and instantly + spent the high wages still paid them. With their bodies full of youth and + their pockets full of gold, they rode into town by twenties, by fifties, + and out again next morning, penniless always and happy. And then the + Four-ace Johnstons would sit card-playing with each other till the + innocents should come to town again. + </p> + <p> + To-night the innocents had certainly come to town, and Drybone was + furnishing to them all its joys. Their many horses stood tied at every + post and corner—patient, experienced cow-ponies, well knowing it was + an all-night affair. The talk and laughter of the riders was in the + saloons; they leaned joking over the bars, they sat behind their cards at + the tables, they strolled to the post-trader's to buy presents for their + easy sweethearts their boots were keeping audible time with the fiddle at + Mrs. Slaghammer's. From the multitude and vigor of the sounds there, the + dance was being done regularly. “Regularly” meant that upon the conclusion + of each set the gentleman led his lady to the bar and invited her to + choose and it was also regular that the lady should choose. Beer and + whiskey were the alternatives. + </p> + <p> + Lin McLean's horse took him across the square without guiding from the + cow-puncher, who sat absently with his hands folded upon the horn of his + saddle. This horse, too, was patient and experienced, and could not know + what remote thoughts filled his master's mind. He looked around to see why + his master did not get off lightly, as he had done during so many gallant + years, and hasten in to the conviviality. But the lonely cow-puncher sat + mechanically identifying the horses of acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + “Toothpick Kid is here,” said he, “and Limber Jim, and the Doughie. You'd + think he'd stay away after the trouble he—I expect that pinto is + Jerky Bill's.” + </p> + <p> + “Go home!” said a hearty voice. + </p> + <p> + McLean eagerly turned. For the moment his face lighted from its + sombreness. “I'd forgot you'd be here,” said he. And he sprang to the + ground. “It's fine to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Go home!” repeated the Governor of Wyoming, shaking his ancient friend's + hand. “You in Drybone to-night, and claim you're reformed? + </p> + <p> + “Yu' seem to be on hand yourself,” said the cow-puncher, bracing to be + jocular, if he could. + </p> + <p> + “Me! I've gone fishing. Don't you read the papers? If we poor governors + can't lock up the State House and take a whirl now and then—” + </p> + <p> + “Doc,” interrupted Lin, “it's plumb fine to see yu'!” Again he shook + hands. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes! we've met here before, you and I.” His Excellency the Hon. + Amory W. Barker, M.D., stood laughing, familiar and genial, his sound + white teeth shining. But behind his round spectacles he scrutinized + McLean. For in this second hand-shaking was a fervor that seemed a grasp, + a reaching out, for comfort. Barker had passed through Separ. Though an + older acquaintance than Billy, he had asked Jessamine fewer and different + questions. But he knew what he knew. “Well, Drybone's the same old + Drybone,” said he. “Sweet-scented hole of iniquity! Let's see how you walk + nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + Lin took a few steps. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! I said you'd never get over it.” And his Excellency beamed with + professional pride. In his doctor days Barker had set the boy McLean's + leg; and before it was properly knit the boy had escaped from the hospital + to revel loose in Drybone on such another night as this. Soon he had been + carried back, with the fracture split open again. + </p> + <p> + “It shows, does it?” said Lin. “Well, it don't usually. Not except when + I'm—when I'm—” + </p> + <p> + “Down?” suggested his Excellency. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Doc. Down,” the cow-puncher confessed. + </p> + <p> + Barker looked into his friend's clear hazel eyes. + </p> + <p> + Beneath their dauntless sparkle was something that touched the Governor's + good heart. “I've got some whiskey along on the trip—Eastern + whiskey,” said he. “Come over to my room awhile.” + </p> + <p> + “I used to sleep all night onced,” said McLean, as they went. “Then I come + to know different. But I'd never have believed just mere thoughts could + make yu'—make yu' feel like the steam was only half on. I eat, yu' + know!” he stated, suddenly. “And I expect one or two in camp lately have + not found my muscle lacking. Feel me, Doc.” + </p> + <p> + Barker dutifully obeyed, and praised the excellent sinews. + </p> + <p> + Across from the dance-hall the whining of the fiddle came, high and gay; + feet blurred the talk of voices, and voices rose above the trampling of + feet. Here and there some lurking form stumbled through the dark among the + rubbish; and clearest sound of all, the light crack of billiard balls + reached dry and far into the night Barker contemplated the stars and calm + splendid dimness of the plain. “'Though every prospect pleases, and only + man is vile,'” he quoted. “But don't tell the Republican party I said so.” + </p> + <p> + “It's awful true, though, Doc. I'm vile myself. Yu' don't know. Why, I + didn't know!” + </p> + <p> + And then they sat down to confidences and whiskey; for so long as the + world goes round a man must talk to a man sometimes, and both must drink + over it. The cow-puncher unburdened himself to the Governor; and the + Governor filled up his friend's glass with the Eastern whiskey, and nodded + his spectacles, and listened, and advised, and said he should have done + the same, and like the good Governor that he was, never remembered he was + Governor at all with political friends here who had begged a word or two. + He became just Dr. Barker again, the young hospital surgeon (the hospital + that now stood a ruin), and Lin was again his patient——Lin, + the sun-burnt free-lance of nineteen, reckless, engaging, disobedient, his + leg broken and his heart light, with no Jessamine or conscience to rob his + salt of its savor. While he now told his troubles, the quadrilles fiddled + away careless as ever, and the crack of the billiard balls sounded as of + old. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody has told you about this, I expect,” said the lover. He brought + forth the little pistol, “Neighbor.” He did not hand it across to Barker, + but walked over to Barker's chair, and stood holding it for the doctor to + see. When Barker reached for it to see better, since it was half hidden in + the cow-puncher's big hand, Lin yielded it to him, but still stood and + soon drew it back. “I take it around,” he said, “and when one of those + stories comes along, like there's plenty of, that she wants to get rid of + me, I just kind o' take a look at 'Neighbor' when I'm off where it's + handy, and it busts the story right out of my mind. I have to tell you + what a fool I am.” + </p> + <p> + “The whiskey's your side,” said Barker. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Doc, my courage has quit me. They see what I'm thinking about just + like I was a tenderfoot trying his first bluff. I can't stick it out no + more, and I'm going to see her, come what will. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to. I'm going to ride right up to her window and shoot off + 'Neighbor,' and if she don't come out I'll know—” + </p> + <p> + A knocking came at the Governor's room, and Judge Slaghammer entered. “Not + been to our dance, Governor?” said he. + </p> + <p> + The Governor thought that perhaps he was tired, that perhaps this evening + he must forego the pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “It may be wiser. In your position it may be advisable,” said the coroner. + “They're getting on rollers over there. We do not like trouble in Drybone, + but trouble comes to us—as everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Shooting,” suggested his Excellency, recalling his hospital practice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Governor, you know how it is. Our boys are as big-hearted as any in + this big-hearted Western country. You know, Governor. Those generous, + warm-blooded spirits are ever ready for anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Especially after Mrs. Slaghammer's whiskey,” remarked the Governor. + </p> + <p> + The coroner shot a shrewd eye at Wyoming's chief executive. It was not + politically harmonious to be reminded that but for his wife's liquor a + number of fine young men, with nothing save youth untrained and health the + matter with them, would to-day be riding their horses instead of sleeping + on the hill. But the coroner wanted support in the next campaign. “Boys + will be boys,” said he. “They ain't pulled any guns to-night. But I come + away, though. Some of 'em's making up pretty free to Mrs. Lusk. It ain't + suitable for me to see too much. Lusk says he's after you,” he mentioned + incidentally to Lin. “He's fillin' up, and says he's after you.” McLean + nodded placidly, and with scant politeness. He wished this visitor would + go. But Judge Slaghammer had noticed the whiskey. He filled himself a + glass. “Governor, it has my compliments,” said he. “Ambrosier. Honey-doo.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Slaghammer seems to have a large gathering,” said Barker. + </p> + <p> + “Good boys, good boys!” The judge blew importantly, and waved his arm. + “Bull-whackers, cow-punchers, mule-skinners, tin-horns. All spending + generous. Governor, once more! Ambrosier. Honey-doo.” He settled himself + deep in a chair, and closed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + McLean rose abruptly. “Good-night,” said he. “I'm going to Separ.” + </p> + <p> + “Separ!” exclaimed Slaghammer, rousing slightly. “Oh, stay with us, stay + with us.” He closed his eyes again, but sustained his smile of office. + </p> + <p> + “You know how well I wish you,” said Barker to Lin. “I'll just see you + start.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith the friends left the coroner quiet beside his glass, and walked + toward the horses through Drybone's gaping quadrangle. The dead ruins + loomed among the lights of the card-halls, and always the keen jockey + cadences of the fiddle sang across the night. But a calling and confusion + were set up, and the tune broke off. + </p> + <p> + “Just like old times!” said his Excellency. “Where's the dump-pile!” It + was where it should be, close by, and the two stepped behind it to be + screened from wandering bullets. “A man don't forget his habits,” declared + the Governor. “Makes me feel young again.” + </p> + <p> + “Makes me feel old,” said McLean. “Hark!” + </p> + <p> + “Sounds like my name,” said Barker. They listened. “Oh yes. Of course. + That's it. They're shouting for the doctor. But we'll just spare them a + minute or so to finish their excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't hear any shooting,” said McLean. “It's something, though.” + </p> + <p> + As they waited, no shots came; but still the fiddle was silent, and the + murmur of many voices grew in the dance-hall, while single voices wandered + outside, calling the doctor's name. + </p> + <p> + “I'm the Governor on a fishing-trip,” said he. “But it's to be done, I + suppose.” + </p> + <p> + They left their dump-hill and proceeded over to the dance. The musician + sat high and solitary upon two starch-boxes, fiddle on knee, staring and + waiting. Half the floor was bare; on the other half the revellers were + densely clotted. At the crowd's outer rim the young horsemen, flushed and + swaying, retained their gaudy dance partners strongly by the waist, to be + ready when the music should resume. “What is it?” they asked. “Who is it?” + And they looked in across heads and shoulders, inattentive to the caresses + which the partners gave them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lusk was who it was, and she had taken poison here in their midst, + after many dances and drinks. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Doc!” cried an older one. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Doc!” chorused the young blood that had come into this country + since his day. And the throng caught up the words: “Here's Doc! here's + Doc!” + </p> + <p> + In a moment McLean and Barker were sundered from each other in this flood. + Barker, sucked in toward the centre but often eddied back by those who + meant to help him, heard the mixed explanations pass his ear unfinished—versions, + contradictions, a score of facts. It had been wolf-poison. It had been + “Rough on Rats.” It had been something in a bottle. There was little + steering in this clamorous sea; but Barker reached his patient, where she + sat in her new dress, hailing him with wild inebriate gayety. + </p> + <p> + “I must get her to her room, friends,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “He must get her to her room,” went the word. “Leave Doc get her to her + room.” And they tangled in their eagerness around him and his patient. + </p> + <p> + “Give us 'Buffalo Girls!'” shouted Mrs. Lusk.... “'Buffalo Girls,' you + fiddler!” + </p> + <p> + “We'll come back,” said Barker to her. + </p> + <p> + “'Buffalo Girls,' I tell yus. Ho! There's no sense looking at that bottle, + Doc. Take yer dance while there's time!” She was holding the chair. + </p> + <p> + “Help him!” said the crowd. “Help Doc.” + </p> + <p> + They took her from her chair, and she fought, a big pink mass of ribbons, + fluttering and wrenching itself among them. + </p> + <p> + “She has six ounces of laudanum in her,” Barker told them at the top of + his voice. “It won't wait all night.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a whirlwind!” said Mrs. Lusk. “That's my game! And you done your + share,” she cried to the fiddler. “Here's my regards, old man! 'Buffalo + Girls' once more!” + </p> + <p> + She flung out her hand, and from it fell notes and coins, rolling and + ringing around the starch boxes. Some dragged her on, while some fiercely + forbade the musician to touch the money, because it was hers, and she + would want it when she came to. Thus they gathered it up for her. But now + she had sunk down, asking in a new voice where was Lin McLean. And when + one grinning intimate reminded her that Lusk had gone to shoot him, she + laughed out richly, and the crowd joined her mirth. But even in the midst + of the joke she asked again in the same voice where was Lin McLean. He + came beside her among more jokes. He had kept himself near, and now at + sight of him she reached out and held him. “Tell them to leave me go to + sleep, Lin,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Barker saw a chance. “Persuade her to come along,” said he to McLean. + “Minutes are counting now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll come,” she said, with a laugh, overhearing him, and holding + still to Lin. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the old friends nudged each other. “Back seats for us,” they + said. “But we've had our turn in front ones.” Then, thinking they would be + useful in encouraging her to walk, they clustered again, rendering Barker + and McLean once more well-nigh helpless. Clumsily the escort made its slow + way across the quadrangle, cautioning itself about stones and holes. Thus, + presently, she was brought into the room. The escort set her down, + crowding the little place as thick as it would hold; the rest gathered + thick at the door, and all of them had no thought of departing. The notion + to stay was plain on their faces. + </p> + <p> + Barker surveyed them. “Give the doctor a show now, boys,” said he. “You've + done it all so far. Don't crowd my elbows. I'll want you,” he whispered to + McLean. + </p> + <p> + At the argument of fair-play, obedience swept over them like a veering of + wind. “Don't crowd his elbows,” they began to say at once, and told each + other to come away. “We'll sure give the Doc room. You don't want to be + shovin' your auger in, Chalkeye. You want to get yourself pretty near + absent.” The room thinned of them forthwith. “Fix her up good, Doc,” they + said, over their shoulders. They shuffled across the threshold and porch + with roundabout schemes to tread quietly. When one or other stumbled on + the steps and fell, he was jerked to his feet. “You want to tame + yourself,” was the word. Then, suddenly, Chalkeye and Toothpick Kid came + precipitately back. “Her cash,” they said. And leaving the notes and + coins, they hastened to catch their comrades on the way back to the dance. + </p> + <p> + “I want you,” repeated Barker to McLean. + </p> + <p> + “Him!” cried Mrs. Lusk, flashing alert again. “Jessamine wants him about + now, I guess. Don't keep him from his girl!” And she laughed her hard, + rich laugh, looking from one to the other. “Not the two of yus can't save + me,” she stated, defiantly. But even in these last words a sort of + thickness sounded. + </p> + <p> + “Walk her up and down,” said Barker. “Keep her moving. I'll look what I + can find. Keep her moving brisk.” At once he was out of the door; and + before his running steps had died away, the fiddle had taken up its tune + across the quadrangle. + </p> + <p> + “'Buffalo Girls!'” exclaimed the woman. “Old times! Old times!” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said McLean. “Walk.” And he took her. + </p> + <p> + Her head was full of the music. Forgetting all but that, she went with him + easily, and the two made their first turns around the room. Whenever he + brought her near the entrance, she leaned away from him toward the open + door, where the old fiddle tune was coming in from the dark. But presently + she noticed that she was being led, and her face turned sullen. + </p> + <p> + “Walk,” said McLean. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” said she, laughing. But she found that she must go with + him. Thus they took a few more turns. + </p> + <p> + “You're hurting me,” she said next. Then a look of drowsy cunning filled + her eyes, and she fixed them upon McLean's dogged face. “He's gone, Lin,” + she murmured, raising her hand where Barker had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + She knew McLean had heard her, and she held back on the quickened pace + that he had set. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me down. You hurt,” she pleaded, hanging on him. + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher put forth more strength. + </p> + <p> + “Just the floor,” she pleaded again. “Just one minute on the floor. He'll + think you could not keep me lifted.” + </p> + <p> + Still McLean made no answer, but steadily led her round and round, as he + had undertaken. + </p> + <p> + “He's playing out!” she exclaimed. “You'll be played out soon.” She + laughed herself half-awake. The man drew a breath, and she laughed more to + feel his hand and arm strain to surmount her increasing resistance. + “Jessamine!” she whispered to him. “Jessamine! Doc'll never suspicion you, + Lin.” + </p> + <p> + “Talk sense,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “It's sense I'm talking. Leave me go to sleep. Ah, ah, I'm going! I'll go; + you can't—” + </p> + <p> + “Walk, walk!” he repeated. He looked at the door. An ache was numbing his + arms. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, walk! What can you and all your muscle—Ah, walk me to + glory, then, craziness! I'm going; I'll go. I'm quitting this outfit for + keeps. Lin, you're awful handsome to-night! I'll bet—I'll bet she + has never seen you look so. Let me—let me watch yus. Anyway, she + knows I came first!” + </p> + <p> + He grasped her savagely. “First! You and twenty of yu' don't—God!! + what do I talk to her for?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—because—I'm going; I'll go. He slung me off—but + he had to sling—you can't—stop—” + </p> + <p> + Her head was rolling, while the lips smiled. Her words came through deeper + and deeper veils, fearless, defiant, a challenge inarticulate, a + continuous mutter. Again he looked at the door as he struggled to move + with her dragging weight. The drops rolled on his forehead and neck, his + shirt was wet, his hands slipped upon her ribbons. Suddenly the drugged + body folded and sank with him, pulling him to his knees. While he took + breath so, the mutter went on, and through the door came the jigging + fiddle. A fire of desperation lighted in his eyes. “Buffalo Girls!” he + shouted, hoarsely, in her ear, and got once more on his feet with her as + though they were two partners in a quadrille. Still shouting her to wake, + he struck a tottering sort of step, and so, with the bending load in his + grip, strove feebly to dance the laudanum away. + </p> + <p> + Feet stumbled across the porch, and Lusk was in the room. “So I've got + you!” he said. He had no weapon, but made a dive under the bed and came up + with a carbine. The two men locked, wrenching impotently, and fell + together. The carbine's loud shot rang in the room, but did no harm; and + McLean lay sick and panting upon Lusk as Barker rushed in. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” said he, and flung Lusk's pistol down. The man, deranged and + encouraged by drink, had come across the doctor, delayed him, threatened + him with his pistol, and when he had torn it away, had left him suddenly + and vanished. But Barker had feared, and come after him here. He glanced + at the woman slumbering motionless beside the two men. The husband's brief + courage had gone, and he lay beneath McLean, who himself could not rise. + Barker pulled them apart. + </p> + <p> + “Lin, boy, you're not hurt?” he asked, affectionately, and lifted the + cow-puncher. + </p> + <p> + McLean sat passive, with dazed eyes, letting himself be supported. + </p> + <p> + “You're not hurt?” repeated Barker. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the cow-puncher, slowly. “I guess not.” He looked about the + room and at the door. “I got interrupted,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You'll be all right soon,” said Barker. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody cares for me!” cried Lusk, suddenly, and took to querulous + weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Get up,” ordered Barker, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't accuse me, Governor,” screamed Lusk. “I'm innocent.” And he rose. + </p> + <p> + Barker looked at the woman and then at the husband. “I'll not say there + was much chance for her,” he said. “But any she had is gone through you. + She'll die.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody cares for me!” repeated the man. “He has learned my boy to scorn + me.” He ran out aimlessly, and away into the night, leaving peace in the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Stay sitting,” said Barker to McLean, and went to Mrs. Lusk. + </p> + <p> + But the cow-puncher, seeing him begin to lift her toward the bed without + help, tried to rise. His strength was not sufficiently come back, and he + sank as he had been. “I guess I don't amount to much,” said he. “I feel + like I was nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm something,” said Barker, coming back to his friend, out of + breath. “And I know what she weighs.” He stared admiringly through his + spectacles at the seated man. + </p> + <p> + The cow-puncher's eyes slowly travelled over his body, and then sought + Barker's face. “Doc,” said he, “ain't I young to have my nerve quit me + this way?” + </p> + <p> + His Excellency broke into his broad smile. + </p> + <p> + “I know I've racketed some, but ain't it ruther early?” pursued McLean, + wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “You six-foot infant!” said Barker. “Look at your hand.” + </p> + <p> + Lin stared at it—the fingers quivering and bloody, and the skin + grooved raw between them. That was the buckle of her belt, which in the + struggle had worked round and been held by him unknowingly. Both his + wrists and his shirt were ribbed with the pink of her sashes. He looked + over at the bed where lay the woman heavily breathing. It was a something, + a sound, not like the breath of life; and Barker saw the cow-puncher + shudder. + </p> + <p> + “She is strong,” he said. “Her system will fight to the end. Two hours + yet, maybe. Queer world!” he moralized. “People half killing themselves to + keep one in it who wanted to go—and one that nobody wanted to stay!” + </p> + <p> + McLean did not hear. He was musing, his eyes fixed absently in front of + him. “I would not want,” he said, with hesitating utterance—“I'd not + wish for even my enemy to have a thing like what I've had to do to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Barker touched him on the arm. “If there had been another man I could + trust—” + </p> + <p> + “Trust!” broke in the cow-puncher. “Why, Doc, it is the best turn yu' ever + done me. I know I am a man now—if my nerve ain't gone.” + </p> + <p> + “I've known you were a man since I knew you!” said the hearty Governor. + And he helped the still unsteady six-foot to a chair. “As for your nerve, + I'll bring you some whiskey now. And after”—he glanced at the bed—“and + tomorrow you'll go try if Miss Jessamine won't put the nerve—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Doc, I'll go there, I know. But don't yu'—don't let's while + she's—I'm going to be glad about this, Doc, after awhile, but—” + </p> + <p> + At the sight of a new-comer in the door, he stopped in what his soul was + stammering to say. “What do you want, Judge?” he inquired, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” began Slaghammer to Barker—“I am informed—” + </p> + <p> + “Speak quieter, Judge,” said the cow-puncher. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” repeated Slaghammer, more official than ever, “that there + was a case for the coroner.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be notified,” put in McLean again. “Meanwhile you'll talk quiet in + this room.” + </p> + <p> + Slaghammer turned, and saw the breathing mass on the bed. + </p> + <p> + “You are a little early, Judge,” said Barker, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “But your ten dollars are safe,” said McLean. + </p> + <p> + The coroner shot one of his shrewd glances at the cow-puncher, and sat + down with an amiable countenance. His fee was, indeed, ten dollars; and he + was desirous of a second term. + </p> + <p> + “Under the apprehension that it had already occurred—the + misapprehension—I took steps to impanel a jury,” said he, addressing + both Barker and McLean. “They are—ah—waiting outside. + Responsible men, Governor, and have sat before. Drybone has few + responsible men to-night, but I procured these at a little game where they + were—ah—losing. You may go back, gentlemen,” said he, going to + the door. “I will summon you in proper time.” He looked in the room again. + “Is the husband not intending—” + </p> + <p> + “That's enough, Judge,” said McLean. “There's too many here without adding + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” spoke a voice at the door, “ain't she ready yet?” + </p> + <p> + “She is still passing away,” observed Slaghammer, piously. + </p> + <p> + “Because I was thinking,” said the man—“I was just—You see, us + jury is dry and dead broke. Doggonedest cards I've held this year, and—Judge, + would there be anything out of the way in me touching my fee in advance, + if it's a sure thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I see none, my friend,” said Slaghammer, benevolently, “since it must + be.” He shook his head and nodded it by turns. Then, with full-blown + importance, he sat again, and wrote a paper, his coroner's certificate. + Next door, in Albany County, these vouchers brought their face value of + five dollars to the holder; but on Drybone's neutral soil the saloons + would always pay four for them, and it was rare that any jury-man could + withstand the temptation of four immediate dollars. This one gratefully + received his paper, and, cherishing it like a bird in the hand, he with + his colleagues bore it where they might wait for duty and slake their + thirst. + </p> + <p> + In the silent room sat Lin McLean, his body coming to life more readily + than his shaken spirit. Barker, seeing that the cow-puncher meant to watch + until the end, brought the whiskey to him. Slaghammer drew documents from + his pocket to fill the time, but was soon in slumber over them. In all + precincts of the quadrangle Drybone was keeping it up late. The fiddle, + the occasional shouts, and the crack of the billiard-balls travelled clear + and far through the vast darkness outside. Presently steps unsteadily drew + near, and round the corner of the door a voice, plaintive and diffident, + said, “Judge, ain't she most pretty near ready?” + </p> + <p> + “Wake up, Judge!” said Barker. “Your jury has gone dry again.” + </p> + <p> + The man appeared round the door—a handsome, dishevelled fellow—with + hat in hand, balancing himself with respectful anxiety. Thus was a second + voucher made out, and the messenger strayed back happy to his friends. + Barker and McLean sat wakeful, and Slaghammer fell at once to napping. + From time to time he was roused by new messengers, each arriving more + unsteady than the last, until every juryman had got his fee and no more + messengers came. The coroner slept undisturbed in his chair. McLean and + Barker sat. On the bed the mass, with its pink ribbons, breathed and + breathed, while moths flew round the lamp, tapping and falling with light + sounds. So did the heart of the darkness wear itself away, and through the + stone-cold air the dawn began to filter and expand. + </p> + <p> + Barker rose, bent over the bed, and then stood. Seeing him, McLean stood + also. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” said Barker, quietly, “you may call them now.” And with careful + steps the judge got himself out of the room to summon his jury. + </p> + <p> + For a short while the cow-puncher stood looking down upon the woman. She + lay lumped in her gaudiness, the ribbons darkly stained by the laudanum; + but into the stolid, bold features death had called up the faint-colored + ghost of youth, and McLean remembered all his Bear Creek days. “Hind sight + is a turruble clear way o' seein' things,” said he. “I think I'll take a + walk.” + </p> + <p> + “Go,” said Barker. “The jury only need me, and I'll join you.” + </p> + <p> + But the jury needed no witness. Their long waiting and the advance pay had + been too much for these responsible men. Like brothers they had shared + each others' vouchers until responsibility had melted from their brains + and the whiskey was finished. Then, no longer entertained and growing + weary of Drybone, they had remembered nothing but their distant beds. Each + had mounted his pony, holding trustingly to the saddle, and thus, + unguided, the experienced ponies had taken them right. Across the wide + sagebrush and up and down the river they were now asleep or riding, + dispersed irrevocably. But the coroner was here. He duly received Barker's + testimony, brought his verdict in, and signed it, and even while he was + issuing to himself his own proper voucher for ten dollars came Chalkeye + and Toothpick Kid on their ponies, galloping, eager in their hopes and + good wishes for Mrs. Lusk. Life ran strong in them both. The night had + gone well with them. Here was the new day going to be fine. It must be + well with everybody. + </p> + <p> + “You don't say!” they exclaimed, taken aback. “Too bad.” + </p> + <p> + They sat still in their saddles, and upon their reckless, kindly faces + thought paused for a moment. “Her gone!” they murmured. “Hard to get used + to the idea. What's anybody doing about the coffin?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Lusk,” answered Slaghammer, “doubtless—” + </p> + <p> + “Lusk! He'll not know anything this forenoon. He's out there in the grass. + She didn't think nothing of him. Tell Bill—not Dollar Bill, Jerky + Bill, yu' know; he's over the bridge—to fix up a hearse, and we'll + be back.” The two drove their spurs in with vigorous heels, and instantly + were gone rushing up the road to the graveyard. + </p> + <p> + The fiddle had lately ceased, and no dancers stayed any longer in the + hall. Eastward the rose and gold began to flow down upon the plain over + the tops of the distant hills. Of the revellers, many had never gone to + bed, and many now were already risen from their excesses to revive in the + cool glory of the morning. Some were drinking to stay their hunger until + breakfast; some splashed and sported in the river, calling and joking; and + across the river some were holding horse-races upon the level beyond the + hog-ranch. Drybone air rang with them. Their lusty, wandering shouts broke + out in gusts of hilarity. Their pistols, aimed at cans or prairie dogs or + anything, cracked as they galloped at large. Their speeding, clear-cut + forms would shine upon the bluffs, and, descending, merge in the dust + their horses had raised. Yet all this was nothing in the vastness of the + growing day. + </p> + <p> + Beyond their voices the rim of the sun moved above the violet hills, and + Drybone, amid the quiet, long, new fields of radiance, stood august and + strange. + </p> + <p> + Down along the tall, bare slant from the graveyard the two horsemen were + riding back. They could be seen across the river, and the horse-racers + grew curious. As more and more watched, the crowd began to speak. It was a + calf the two were bringing. It was too small for a calf. It was dead. It + was a coyote they had roped. See it swing! See it fall on the road! + </p> + <p> + “It's a coffin, boys!” said one, shrewd at guessing. + </p> + <p> + At that the event of last night drifted across their memories, and they + wheeled and spurred their ponies. Their crowding hoofs on the bridge + brought the swimmers from the waters below and, dressing, they climbed + quickly to the plain and followed the gathering. By the door already were + Jerky Bill and Limber Jim and the Doughie and always more, dashing up with + their ponies; halting with a sharp scatter of gravel to hear and comment. + Barker was gone, but the important coroner told his news. And it amazed + each comer, and set him speaking and remembering past things with the + others. “Dead!” each one began. “Her, does he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, pshaw!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Frenchy said Doc had her cured!” + </p> + <p> + Jack Saunders claimed she had rode to Box Elder with Lin McLean. “Dead? + Why, pshaw!” + </p> + <p> + “Seems Doc couldn't swim her out.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't swim her out?” + </p> + <p> + “That's it. Doc couldn't swim her out.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—there's one less of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! She was one of the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “She grub-staked me when I went broke in '84.” + </p> + <p> + “She gave me fifty dollars onced at Lander, to buy a saddle.” + </p> + <p> + “I run agin her when she was a biscuit-shooter.” + </p> + <p> + “Sidney, Nebraska. I run again her there, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I knowed her at Laramie.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's Lin? He knowed her all the way from Bear Creek to Cheyenne.” + </p> + <p> + They laughed loudly at this. + </p> + <p> + “That's a lonesome coffin,” said the Doughie. “That the best you could + do?” + </p> + <p> + “You'd say so!” said Toothpick Kid. + </p> + <p> + “Choices are getting scarce up there,” said Chalkeye. “We looked the lot + over.” + </p> + <p> + They were arriving from their search among the old dug-up graves on the + hill. Now they descended from their ponies, with the box roped and + rattling between them. “Where's your hearse, Jerky?” asked Chalkeye. + </p> + <p> + “Have her round in a minute,” said the cowboy, and galloped away with + three or four others. + </p> + <p> + “Turruble lonesome coffin, all the same,” repeated the Doughie. And they + surveyed the box that had once held some soldier. + </p> + <p> + “She did like fixin's,” said Limber Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Fixin's!” said Toothpick Kid. “That's easy.” + </p> + <p> + While some six of them, with Chalkeye, bore the light, half-rotted coffin + into the room, many followed Toothpick Kid to the post-trader's store. + Breaking in here, they found men sleeping on the counters. These had been + able to find no other beds in Drybone, and lay as they had stretched + themselves on entering. They sprawled in heavy slumber, some with not even + their hats taken off and some with their boots against the rough hair of + the next one. They were quickly pushed together, few waking, and so there + was space for spreading cloth and chintz. Stuffs were unrolled and flung + aside till many folds and colors draped the motionless sleepers, and at + length a choice was made. Unmeasured yards of this drab chintz were ripped + off, money treble its worth was thumped upon the counter, and they + returned, bearing it like a streamer to the coffin. While the noise of + their hammers filled the room, the hearse came tottering to the door, + pulled and pushed by twenty men. It was an ambulance left behind by the + soldiers, and of the old-fashioned shape, concave in body, its top blown + away in winds of long ago; and as they revolved, its wheels dished in and + out like hoops about to fall. While some made a harness from ropes, and + throwing the saddles off two ponies backed them to the vehicle, the body + was put in the coffin, now covered by the chintz. But the laudanum upon + the front of her dress revolted those who remembered their holidays with + her, and turning the woman upon her face, they looked their last upon her + flashing, colored ribbons, and nailed the lid down. So they carried her + out, but the concave body of the hearse was too short for the coffin; the + end reached out, and it might have fallen. But Limber Jim, taking the + reins, sat upon the other end, waiting and smoking. For all Drybone was + making ready to follow in some way. They had sought the husband, the chief + mourner. He, however, still lay in the grass of the quadrangle, and + despising him as she had done, they left him to wake when he should + choose. Those men who could sit in their saddles rode escort, the old + friends nearest, and four held the heads of the frightened cow-ponies who + were to draw the hearse. They had never known harness before, and they + plunged with the men who held them. Behind the hearse the women followed + in a large ranch-wagon, this moment arrived in town. Two mares drew this, + and their foals gambolled around them. The great flat-topped dray for + hauling poles came last, with its four government mules. The cow-boys had + caught sight of it and captured it. Rushing to the post-trader's, they + carried the sleeping men from the counter and laid them on the dray. Then, + searching Drybone outside and in for any more incapable of following, they + brought them, and the dray was piled. + </p> + <p> + Limber Jim called for another drink and, with his cigar between his teeth, + cracked his long bull-whacker whip. The ponies, terrified, sprang away, + scattering the men that held them, and the swaying hearse leaped past the + husband, over the stones and the many playing-cards in the grass. + Masterfully steered, it came safe to an open level, while the throng + cheered the unmoved driver on his coffin, his cigar between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Stay with it, Jim!” they shouted. “You're a king!” + </p> + <p> + A steep ditch lay across the flat where he was veering, abrupt and nearly + hidden; but his eye caught the danger in time, and swinging from it + leftward so that two wheels of the leaning coach were in the air, he faced + the open again, safe, as the rescue swooped down upon him. The horsemen + came at the ditch, a body of daring, a sultry blast of youth. Wheeling at + the brink, they turned, whirling their long ropes. The skilful nooses + flew, and the ponies, caught by the neck and foot, were dragged back to + the quadrangle and held in line. So the pageant started the wild ponies + quivering but subdued by the tightened ropes, and the coffin steady in the + ambulance beneath the driver. The escort, in their fringed leather and + broad hats, moved slowly beside and behind it, many of them swaying, their + faces full of health, and the sun and the strong drink. The women + followed, whispering a little; and behind them the slow dray jolted, with + its heaps of men waking from the depths of their whiskey and asking what + this was. So they went up the hill. When the riders reached the tilted + gate of the graveyard, they sprang off and scattered among the hillocks, + stumbling and eager. They nodded to Barker and McLean, quietly waiting + there, and began choosing among the open, weather-drifted graves from + which the soldiers had been taken. Their figures went up and down the + uneven ridges, calling and comparing. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said the Doughie, “here's a good hole.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's a deep one,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “We've struck a well here,” said some more. “Put her in here.” + </p> + <p> + The sand-hills became clamorous with voices until they arrived at a + choice, when some one with a spade quickly squared the rain-washed + opening. With lariats looping the coffin round, they brought it and were + about to lower it, when Chalkeye, too near the edge, fell in, and one end + of the box rested upon him. He could not rise by himself, and they pulled + the ropes helplessly above. + </p> + <p> + McLean spoke to Barker. “I'd like to stop this,” said he, “but a man might + as well—” + </p> + <p> + “Might as well stop a cloud-burst,” said Barker. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Doc. But it feels—it feels like I was looking at ten dozen Lin + McLeans.” And seeing them still helpless with Chalkeye, he joined them and + lifted the cow-boy out. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Slaghammer, stepping forward, “this should proceed no + further without some—perhaps some friend would recite 'Now I lay + me?”' + </p> + <p> + “They don't use that on funerals,” said the Doughie. + </p> + <p> + “Will some gentleman give the Lord's Prayer?” inquired the coroner. + </p> + <p> + Foreheads were knotted; triad mutterings ran among them; but some one + remembered a prayer book in one of the rooms in Drybone, and the notion + was hailed. Four mounted, and raced to bring it. They went down the hill + in a flowing knot, shirts ballooning and elbows flapping, and so returned. + But the book was beyond them. “Take it, you; you take it,” each one said. + False beginnings were made, big thumbs pushed the pages back and forth, + until impatience conquered them. They left the book and lowered the + coffin, helped again by McLean. The weight sank slowly, decently, + steadily, down between the banks. The sound that it struck the bottom with + was a slight sound, the grating of the load upon the solid sand; and a + little sand strewed from the edge and fell on the box at the same moment. + The rattle came up from below, compact and brief, a single jar, quietly + smiting through the crowd, smiting it to silence. One removed his hat, and + then another, and then all. They stood eying each his neighbor, and + shifting their eyes, looked away at the great valley. Then they filled in + the grave, brought a head-board from a grave near by, and wrote the name + and date upon it by scratching with a stone. + </p> + <p> + “She was sure one of us,” said Chalkeye. “Let's give her the Lament.” + </p> + <p> + And they followed his lead: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Once in the saddle, I used to go dashing, + Once in the saddle, I used to go gay; + First took to drinking, and then to card-playing; + Got shot in the body, and now here I lay. + + “Beat the drum slowly, Play the fife lowly, + Sound the dead march as you bear me along. + Take me to Boot-hill, and throw the sod over me— + I'm but a poor cow-boy, I know I done wrong.” + </pre> + <p> + When the song was ended, they left the graveyard quietly and went down the + hill. The morning was growing warm. Their work waited them across many + sunny miles of range and plain. Soon their voices and themselves had + emptied away into the splendid vastness and silence, and they were gone—ready + with all their might to live or to die, to be animals or heroes, as the + hours might bring them opportunity. In Drybone's deserted quadrangle the + sun shone down upon Lusk still sleeping, and the wind shook the aces and + kings in the grass. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART4" id="link2H_PART4"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART IV + </h2> + <p> + Over at Separ, Jessamine Buckner had no more stockings of Billy's to mend, + and much time for thinking and a change of mind. The day after that + strange visit, when she had been told that she had hurt a good man's heart + without reason, she took up her work; and while her hands despatched it + her thoughts already accused her. Could she have seen that visitor now, + she would have thanked her. She looked at the photograph on her table. + “Why did he go away so quickly?” she sighed. But when young Billy returned + to his questions she was buoyant again, and more than a match for him. He + reached the forbidden twelfth time of asking why Lin McLean did not come + back and marry her. Nor did she punish him as she had threatened. She + looked at him confidentially, and he drew near, full of hope. + </p> + <p> + “Billy, I'll tell you just why it is,” said she. “Lin thinks I'm not a + real girl.” + </p> + <p> + “A—ah,” drawled Billy, backing from her with suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed that's what it is, Billy. If he knew I was a real girl—” + </p> + <p> + “A—ah,” went the boy, entirely angry. “Anybody can tell you're a + girl.” And he marched out, mystified, and nursing a sense of wrong. Nor + did his dignity allow him to reopen the subject. + </p> + <p> + To-day, two miles out in the sage-brush by himself, he was shooting + jack-rabbits, but began suddenly to run in toward Separ. A horseman had + passed him, and he had loudly called; but the rider rode on, intent upon + the little distant station. Man and horse were soon far ahead of the boy, + and the man came into town galloping. + </p> + <p> + No need to fire the little pistol by her window, as he had once thought to + do! She was outside before he could leap to the ground. And as he held + her, she could only laugh, and cry, and say “Forgive me! Oh, why have you + been so long?” She took him back to the room where his picture was, and + made him sit, and sat herself close. “What is it?” she asked him. For + through the love she read something else in his serious face. So then he + told her how nothing was wrong; and as she listened to all that he had to + tell, she, too, grew serious, and held very close to him. “Dear, dear + neighbor!” she said. + </p> + <p> + As they sat so, happy with deepening happiness, but not gay yet, young + Billy burst open the door. “There!” he cried. “I knowed Lin knowed you + were a girl!” + </p> + <p> + Thus did Billy also have his wish. For had he not told Jessamine that he + liked her, and urged her to come and live with him and Lin? That cabin on + Box Elder became a home in truth, with a woman inside taking the only care + of Mr. McLean that he had known since his childhood: though singularly + enough he has an impression that it is he who takes care of Jessamine! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IN THE AFTER-DAYS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The black pines stand high up the hills, + The white snow sifts their columns deep, + While through the canyon's riven cleft + From there, beyond, the rose clouds sweep. + + Serene above their paling shapes + One star hath wakened in the sky. + And here in the gray world below + Over the sage the wind blows by; + + Rides through the cotton-woods' ghost-ranks, + And hums aloft a sturdy tune + Among the river's tawny bluffs, + Untenanted as is the moon. + + Far 'neath the huge invading dusk + Comes Silence awful through the plain; + But yonder horseman's heart is gay, + And he goes singing might and main. + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lin McLean, by Owen Wister + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIN MCLEAN *** + +***** This file should be named 1385-h.htm or 1385-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/8/1385/ + +Produced by Bill Brewer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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