diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:18:00 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:18:00 -0700 |
| commit | 717fd8a1860dc5eb715d4ca7ff95fa55837d51b8 (patch) | |
| tree | 9233c7257728d1d65f11dc9165774e62def27ac3 /1907-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '1907-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 1907-h/1907-h.htm | 3749 |
1 files changed, 3749 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/1907-h/1907-h.htm b/1907-h/1907-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e35c0ee --- /dev/null +++ b/1907-h/1907-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3749 @@ +<?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> + Rowdy of the 'Cross L.', by B.M. Sinclair (aka B. M. Bower) + </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"> + +Project Gutenberg's Rowdy of the Cross L, by B.M. Sinclair, AKA B.M. Bower + +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: Rowdy of the Cross L + +Author: B.M. Sinclair, AKA B.M. Bower + +Release Date: November 7, 2008 [EBook #1907] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWDY OF THE CROSS L *** + + + + +Produced by Mary Starr, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + ROWDY OF THE “CROSS L.” + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By B.M. Sinclair + </h2> + <h3> + (AKA B. M. Bower) + </h3> + <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="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER 1. Lost in a Blizzard. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER 2. Miss Conroy Refuses Shelter. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER 3. Rowdy Hires a New Boss. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER 4. Pink as “Chappyrone.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER 5. At Home at Cross L. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER 6. A Shot From the Dark. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER 7. Rowdy in a Tough Place. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER 8. Pink in a Threatening Mood. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER 9. Moving the Herd. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER 10. Harry Conroy at Home. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER 11. Rowdy Promoted. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER 12. “You Can Tell Jessie.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER 13. Rowdy Finds Happiness. </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER 1. Lost in a Blizzard. + </h2> + <p> + “Rowdy” Vaughan—he had been christened Rowland by his mother, and + rechristened Rowdy by his cowboy friends, who are prone to treat with much + irreverence the names bestowed by mothers—was not happy. He stood in + the stirrups and shook off the thick layer of snow which clung, damp and + close-packed, to his coat. The dull yellow folds were full of it; his gray + hat, pulled low over his purple ears, was heaped with it. He reached up a + gloved hand and scraped away as much as he could, wrapped the + long-skirted, “sour-dough” coat around his numbed legs, then settled into + the saddle with a shiver of distaste at the plight he was in, and wished + himself back at the Horseshoe Bar. + </p> + <p> + Dixie, standing knee-deep in a drift, shook himself much after the manner + of his master; perhaps he, also, wished himself back at the Horseshoe Bar. + He turned his head to look back, blinking at the snow which beat + insistently in his eyes; he could not hold them open long enough to see + anything, however, so he twitched his ears pettishly and gave over the + attempt. + </p> + <p> + “It's up to you, old boy,” Rowdy told him resignedly. “I'm plumb lost; I + never was in this damn country before, anyhow—and I sure wish I + wasn't here now. If you've any idea where we're at, I'm dead willing to + have you pilot the layout. Never mind Chub; locating his feed when it's + stuck under his nose is his limit.” + </p> + <p> + Chub lifted an ear dispiritedly when his name was spoken; but, as was + usually the case, he heard no good of himself, and dropped his head again. + No one took heed of him; no one ever did. His part was to carry Vaughan's + bed, and to follow unquestionably where Vaughan and Dixie might lead. He + was cold and tired and hungry, but his faith in his master was strong; the + responsibility of finding shelter before the dark came down rested not + with him. + </p> + <p> + Vaughan pressed his chilled knees against Dixie's ribs, but the hand upon + the reins was carefully non-committal; so that Dixie, having no suggestion + of his master's wish, ventured to indulge his own. He turned tail squarely + to the storm and went straight ahead. Vaughan put his hands deep into his + pockets, snuggled farther down into the sheepskin collar of his coat, and + rode passive, enduring. + </p> + <p> + They brought up against a wire fence, and Vaughan, rousing from his + apathy, tried to peer through the white, shifting wall of the storm. + “You're a swell guide—not,” he remarked to the horse. “Now you, you + hike down this fence till you locate a gate or a corner, or any darned + thing; and I don't give a cuss if the snow does get in your eyes. It's + your own fault.” + </p> + <p> + Dixie, sneezing the snow from his nostrils, turned obediently; Chub, his + feet dragging wearily in the snow, trailed patiently behind. Half an hour + of this, and it seemed as if it would go on forever. + </p> + <p> + Through the swirl Vaughan could see the posts standing forlornly in the + snow, with sixteen feet of blizzard between; at no time could he + distinguish more than two or three at once, and there were long minutes + when the wall stood, blank and shifting, just beyond the first post. + </p> + <p> + Then Dixie lifted his head and gazed questioningly before him, his ears + pointed forward—sentient, strained—and whinnied shrill + challenge. He hurried his steps, dragging Chub out of the beginnings of a + dream. Vaughan straightened and took his hands from his pockets. + </p> + <p> + Out beyond the dim, wavering outline of the farthest post came answer to + the challenge. A mysterious, vague shape grew impalpably upon the strained + vision; a horse sneezed, then nickered eagerly. Vaughan drew up and + waited. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he called cheerfully. “Pleasant day, this. Out for your health?” + </p> + <p> + The shape hesitated, as though taken aback by the greeting, and there was + no answer. Vaughan, puzzled, rode closer. + </p> + <p> + “Say, don't talk so fast!” he yelled. “I can't follow yuh.” + </p> + <p> + “Who—who is it?” The voice sounded perturbed; and it was, moreover, + the voice of a woman. + </p> + <p> + Vaughan pulled up short and swore into his collar. Women are not, as a + rule, to be met out on the blank prairie in a blizzard. His voice, when he + spoke again, was not ironical, as it had been; it was placating. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I thought it was a man. I'm looking for the + Cross L; you don't happen to know where it is, do yuh?” + </p> + <p> + “No—I don't,” she declared dismally. “I don't know where any place + is. I'm teaching school in this neighborhood—or in some other. I was + going to spend Sunday with a friend, but this storm came up, and I'm—lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Same here,” said Rowdy pleasantly, as though being lost was a matter for + congratulation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I was in hopes—” + </p> + <p> + “So was I, so we're even there. We'll have to pool our chances, I guess. + Any gate down that way—or haven't you followed the fence?” + </p> + <p> + “I followed it for miles and miles—it seemed. It must be some big + field of the Cross L; but they have so very many big fields!” + </p> + <p> + “And you couldn't give a rough guess at how far it is to the Cross L?”—insinuatingly. + </p> + <p> + He could vaguely see her shake of head. “Ordinarily it should be about six + miles beyond Rodway's, where I board. But I haven't the haziest idea of + where Rodway's place is, you see; so that won't help you much. I'm all at + sea in this snow.” Her voice was rueful. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you came up the fence, there's no use going back that way; and + there's sure nothing made by going away from it.—that's the way I + came. Why not go on the way you're headed?” + </p> + <p> + “We might as well, I suppose,” she assented; and Rowdy turned and rode by + her side, grateful for the plurality of the pronoun which tacitly included + him in her wanderings, and meditating many things. For one, he wondered if + she were as nice a girl as her voice sounded. He could not see much of her + face, because it was muffled in a white silk scarf. Only her eyes showed, + and they were dark and bright. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke to the fact that the wind, grown colder, beat upon her + cruelly, he dropped behind a pace and took the windy side, that he might + shield her with his body. But if she observed the action she gave no sign; + her face was turned from him and the wind, and she rode without speaking. + After long plodding, the line of posts turned unexpectedly a right angle, + and Vaughan took a long, relieved breath. + </p> + <p> + “We'll have the wind on our backs now,” he remarked. “I guess we may as + well keep on and see where this fence goes to.” + </p> + <p> + His tone was too elaborately cheerful to be very cheering. He was + wondering if the girl was dressed warmly. It had been so warm and sunny + before the blizzard struck, but now the wind searched out the thin places + in one's clothing and ran lead in one's bones, where should be simply + marrow. He fancied that her voice, when she spoke, gave evidence of actual + suffering—and the heart of Rowdy Vaughan was ever soft toward a + woman. + </p> + <p> + “If you're cold,” he began, “I'll open up my bed and get out a blanket.” + He held Dixie in tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't trouble to do that,” she protested; but there was that in her + voice which hardened his impulse into fixed resolution. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have thought of it before,” he lamented, and swung down + stiffly into the snow. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes followed his movement with a very evident interest while he + unbuckled the pack Chub had carried since sunrise and drew out a blanket. + </p> + <p> + “Stand in your stirrup,” he commanded briskly “and I'll wrap you up. It's + a Navajo, and the wind will have a time trying to find a thin spot.” + </p> + <p> + “You're thoughtful.” She snuggled into it thankfully. “I was cold.” + </p> + <p> + Vaughan tucked it around her with more care than haste. He was pretty + uncomfortable himself, and for that reason he was the more anxious that + the girl should be warm. It came to him that she was a cute little + schoolma'am, all right; he was glad she belonged close around the Cross L. + He also wished he knew her name—and so he set about finding it out, + with much guile. + </p> + <p> + “How's that?” he wanted to know, when he had made sure that her feet—such + tiny feet—were well covered. He thought it lucky that she did not + ride astride, after the manner of the latter-day young woman, because then + he could not have covered her so completely. “Hold on! That windy side's + going to make trouble.” He unbuckled the strap he wore to hold his own + coat snug about him, and put it around the girl's slim waist, feeling + idiotically happy and guilty the while. “It don't come within a mile of + you,” he complained; “but it'll help some.” + </p> + <p> + Sheltered in the thick folds of the Navajo, she laughed, and the sound of + it sent the blood galloping through Rowdy Vaughan's body so that he was + almost warm. He went and scraped the snow out of his saddle, and swung up, + feeling that, after all, there are worse things in the world than being + lost and hungry in a blizzard, with a sweet-voiced, bright-eyed little + schoolma'am who can laugh like that. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to have you think I may be a bold, bad robber-man,” he said, + when they got going again. “My name's Rowdy Vaughan—for which I beg + your pardon. Mother named me Rowland, never knowing I'd get out here and + have her nice, pretty name mutilated that way. I won't say that my + behavior never suggested the change, though. I'm from the Horseshoe Bar, + over the line, and if I have my way, I'll be a Cross L man before another + day.” Then he waited expectantly. + </p> + <p> + “For fear you may think I'm a—a robber-woman,” she answered him + solemnly—he felt sure her eyes twinkled, if only he could have seen + them—“I'm Jessie Conroy. And if you're from over the line, maybe you + know my brother Harry. He was over there a year or two.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy hunched his shoulders—presumably at the wind. Harry Conroy's + sister, was she? And he swore. “I may have met him,” he parried, in a tone + you'd never notice as being painstakingly careless. “I think I did, come + to think of it.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy seemed displeased, and presently the cause was forthcoming. + “If you'd ever met him,” she said, “you'd hardly forget him.” (Rowdy + mentally agreed profanely.) “He's the best rider in the whole country—and + the handsomest. He—he's splendid! And he's the only brother I've + got. It's a pity you never got acquainted with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” lied Rowdy, and thought a good deal in a very short time. Harry + Conroy's sister! Well, she wasn't to blame for that, of course; nor for + thinking her brother a white man. “I remember I did see him ride once,” he + observed. “He was a whirlwind, all right—and he sure was handsome, + too.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy turned her face toward him and smiled her pleasure, and Rowdy + hovered between heaven and—another place. He was glad she smiled, + and he was afraid of what that subject might discover for his + straightforward tongue in the way of pitfalls. It would not be nice to let + her know what he really thought of her brother. + </p> + <p> + “This looks to me like a lane,” he said diplomatically. “We must be + getting somewhere; don't you recognize any landmarks?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy leaned forward and peered through the clouds of snow dust. + Already the night was creeping down upon the land, stealthily turning the + blank white of the blizzard into as blank a gray—which was as near + darkness as it could get, because of the snow which fell and fell, and yet + seemed never to find an abiding-place, but danced and swirled giddily in + the wind as the cold froze it dry. There would be no more damp, clinging + masses that night; it was sifting down like flour from a giant sieve; and + of the supply there seemed no end. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know of any lanes around here,” she began dubiously, “unless it's—” + </p> + <p> + Vaughan looked sharply at her muffled figure and wondered why she broke + off so suddenly. She was staring hard at the few, faint traces of + landmarks; and, bundled in the red-and-yellow Navajo blanket, with her + bright, dark eyes, she might easily have passed for a slim young squaw. + </p> + <p> + Out ahead, a dog began barking vaguely, and Rowdy turned eagerly to the + sound. Dixie, scenting human habitation, stepped out more briskly through + the snow, and even Chub lifted an ear briefly to show he heard. + </p> + <p> + “It may not be any one you know,” Vaughan remarked, and his voice showed + his longing; “but it'll be shelter and a warm fire—and supper. Can + you appreciate such blessings, Miss Conroy? I can. I've been in the saddle + since sunrise; and I was so sure I'd strike the Cross L by dinner-time + that I didn't bring a bite to eat. It was a sheep-camp where I stopped, + and the grub didn't look good to me, anyway—I've called myself bad + names all the afternoon for being more dainty than sensible. But it's all + right now, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 2. Miss Conroy Refuses Shelter. + </h2> + <p> + The storm lifted suddenly, as storms have a way of doing, and a low, squat + ranch-house stood dimly revealed against the bleak expanse of + wind-tortured prairie. Rowdy gave an exultant little whoop and made for + the gate, leaned and swung it open and rode through, dragging Chub after + him by main strength, as usual. When he turned to close the gate after + Miss Conroy he found her standing still in the lane. + </p> + <p> + “Come on in,” he called, with a trace of impatience born of his weariness + and hunger. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, no.” Miss Conroy's voice was as crisply cold as the wind which + fluttered the Navajo blanket around her face. “I much prefer the + blizzard.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Rowdy found nothing to say; he just stared. Miss Conroy + shifted uneasily in the saddle. + </p> + <p> + “This is old Bill Brown's place,” she explained reluctantly. “He—I'd + rather freeze than go in!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess that won't be hard to do,” he retorted curtly, “if you stay + out much longer.” + </p> + <p> + The dog was growing hysterical over their presence, and Bill Brown himself + came out to see what it was all about. He could see two dim figures at the + gate. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he shouted. “Why don't yuh come on in? What yuh standing there + chewing the rag for?” + </p> + <p> + Vaughan hesitated, his eyes upon Miss Conroy. + </p> + <p> + “Go in,” she commanded imperiously, quite as if he were a refractory + pupil. “You're tired out, and hungry. I'm neither. Besides, I know where I + am now. I can find my way without any trouble. Go in, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + But Rowdy stayed where he was, with the gate creaking to and fro between + them. Dixie circled till his back was to the wind. “I hope you don't think + you're going to mill around out here alone,” Rowdy said tartly. + </p> + <p> + “I can manage very well. I'm not lost now, I tell you. Rodway's is only + three miles from here, and I know the direction.” + </p> + <p> + Bill Brown waded out to them, wondering what weighty discussion was + keeping them there in the cold. Vaughan he passed by with the cursory + glance of a disinterested stranger, and went on to where Miss Conroy + waited stubbornly in the lane. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you!” he said grimly. “Well, come in and thaw out; I hope yuh + didn't think yuh wouldn't be welcome yuh knew better. You got lost, I + reckon. Come on—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy struck Badger sharply across the flank and disappeared into + the night. “When I ask shelter of you,” she flung back, “you'll know it.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy started after, and met Bill Brown squarely in the gate. Bill eyed + him sharply. “Say, young fellow, how'd you come by that packhorse?” he + demanded, as Chub brushed past him. + </p> + <p> + “None of your damn' business,” snapped Rowdy, and drove the spurs into + Dixie's ribs. But Chub was a handicap at any time; now, when he was tired, + there was no getting anything like speed out of him; he clung to his + shuffling trot, which was really no better than a walk. After five minutes + spent alternately in spurring Dixie and yanking at Chub's lead-rope, Rowdy + grew frightened and took to shouting. While they were in the lane Miss + Conroy must perforce ride straight ahead, but the lane would not last + always. As though with malicious intent, the snow swooped down again and + the world became an unreal, nightmare world, wherein was nothing save + shifting, blinding snowfloury and wind and bitter, numbing cold. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy stood in his stirrups, cupped his chilled fingers around his numbed + lips, and sent a longdrawn “Who-ee!” shrilling weirdly into the night. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him, after long listening, that from the right came faint + reply, and he turned and rode recklessly, swearing at Chub for his + slowness. He called again, and the answer, though faint, was unmistakable. + He settled heavily into the saddle—too weak, from sheer relief, to + call again. He had not known till then just how frightened he had been, + and he was somewhat disconcerted at the discovery. In a minute the + reaction passed and he shouted a loud hello. + </p> + <p> + “Hello?” came the voice of Miss Conroy, tantalizingly calm, and as + superior as the greeting of Central. “Were you looking for me, Mr. + Vaughan?” + </p> + <p> + She was close to him—so close that she had not needed to raise her + voice perceptibly. Rowdy rode up alongside, remembering uncomfortably his + prolonged shouting. + </p> + <p> + “I sure was,” he admitted. And then: “You rode off with my blanket on.” He + was very proud of his matter-of-fact tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Miss Conroy was almost deceived, and a bit disappointed. “I'll give + it to you now, and you can go back—if you know the way.” + </p> + <p> + “No hurry,” said Rowdy politely. “I'll go on and see if you can find a + place that looks good to you. You seem pretty particular.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy may have blushed, in the shelter of the blanket. “I suppose it + did look strange to you,” she confessed, but defiantly. “Bill Brown is an + enemy to—Harry. He—because he lost a horse or two out of a + field, one time, he—he actually accused Harry of taking them! He + lied, of course, and nobody believed him; nobody could believe a thing + like that about Harry. It was perfectly absurd. But he did his best to + hurt Harry's name, and I would rather freeze than ask shelter of him. + Wouldn't you—in my place, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I always stand up for my friends,” evaded Rowdy. “And if I had a brother—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you'd be loyal,” approved Miss Conroy warmly. “But I didn't + want you to come on; it isn't your quarrel. And I know the way now. You + needn't have come any farther.” + </p> + <p> + “You forgot the blanket,” Rowdy reminded wickedly. “I think a lot of that + Navajo.” + </p> + <p> + “You insisted upon my taking it,” she retorted, and took refuge in + silence. + </p> + <p> + For a long hour they plodded blindly. Rowdy beat his hands often about his + body to start the blood, and meditated yearnigly upon hot coffee and the + things he liked best to eat. Also, a good long pull at a flask wouldn't be + had, either, he thought. And he hoped this little schoolma'am knew where + she was going—truth to tell, he doubted it. + </p> + <p> + After a while, it seemed that Miss Conroy doubted it also. She took to + leaning forward and straining her eyes to see through the gray wall + before. + </p> + <p> + “There should be a gate here,” she said dubiously, at last. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” Rowdy ventured mildly, “if there were a gate, it would + have some kind of a fence hitched to it; wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy was in no mood for facetiousness, and refused to answer his + question. “I surely can't have made a mistake,” she observed uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “It would be a wonder if you didn't, such a night as this,” he consoled. + “I wouldn't bank on traveling straight myself, even if I knew the country—which + I don't. And I've been in more blizzards than I'm years old.” + </p> + <p> + “Rodway's place can't be far away,” she said, brightening. “It may be + farther to the east; shall we try that way—if you know which is + east?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, we'll try. It's all we can do. My packhorse is about all in, from + the way he hangs back; if we don't strike something pretty soon I'll have + to turn him loose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't do that,” she begged. “It would be too cruel. We're sure to + reach Rodway's very soon.” + </p> + <p> + More plodding through drifts high and drifts low; more leaning from + saddles to search anxiously for trace of something besides snow and wind + and biting cold. Then, far to the right, a yellow eye glowed briefly when + the storm paused to take breath. Miss Conroy gave a glad little cry and + turned Badger sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Did you see? It was the light from a window. We were going the wrong way. + I'm sure that is Rodway's.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy thanked the Lord and followed her. They came up against a fence, + found a gate, and passed through. While they hurried toward it, the light + winked welcome; as they drew near, some one stirred the fire and sent + sparks and rose-hued smoke rushing up into the smother of snow. Rowdy + watched them wistfully, and wondered if there would be supper, and strong, + hot coffee. He lifted Miss Conroy out of the saddle, carried her two long + strides, and deposited her upon the door-step; rapped imperatively, and + when a voice replied, lifted the latch and pushed her in before him. + </p> + <p> + For a minute they stood blinking, just within the door. The change from + numbing cold and darkness to the light of the overheated room was + stupefying. + </p> + <p> + Then Miss Conroy went over and held her little, gloved hands to the heat + of the stove, but she did not take the chair which some one pushed toward + her. She stood, the blanket shrouding her face and her slim young figure, + and looked about her curiously. It was not Rodway's house, after all. She + thought she knew what place it was—the shack where Rodway's + hay-balers bached. + </p> + <p> + From the first, Rowdy did not like the look of things—though for + himself it did not matter; he was used to such scenes. It was the presence + of the girl which made him uncomfortable. He unbuttoned his coat that the + warmth might reach his chilled body, and frowned. + </p> + <p> + Four men sat around a small, dirty table; evidently the arrivals had + interrupted an exciting game of seven-up. A glance told Rowdy, even if his + nose had not, that the four round, ribbed bottles had not been nearly + emptied without effect. + </p> + <p> + “Have one on the house,” the man nearest him cried, and shoved a bottle + toward him. + </p> + <p> + Involuntarily Rowdy reached for it. Now that he was inside, he realized + all at once how weary he was, and cold and hungry. Each abused muscle and + nerve seemed to have a distinct grievance against him. His fingers closed + around the bottle before he remembered and dropped it. He looked up, + hoping Miss Conroy had not observed the action; met her wide, questioning + eyes, and the blood flew guiltily to his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, boys—not any for me,” he said, and apologized to Miss + Conroy with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The man rose and confronted him unsteadily. “Dat's a hell off a way! You + too proud for drink weeth us? You drink, now! By Gar, I make you drink!” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy's eyelids drooped, which was a bad sign for those who knew him. + “You're forgetting there's a lady present,” he reminded warningly. + </p> + <p> + The man turned a brief, contemptuous glance toward the stove. “You got the + damn' queer way to talk. I don't call no squaw no lady. You drink queeck, + now!” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, shut up, Frenchy,” the man at his elbow abjured him. “He don't have + to drink if he don't want to.” + </p> + <p> + “You keep the face close,” the other retorted majestically; and cursed + loud and long and incoherently. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy drew back his arm, with a fist that meant trouble for somebody; but + there were others before him who pinned the importunate host to the table, + where he squirmed unavailingly. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy buttoned up his coat the while he eyed the group disgustedly. “I + guess we'll drift,” he remarked. “You don't look good to me, and that's no + dream.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, stay and warm up,” the fourth man expostulated. “Yuh don't need t' + mind Le Febre; he's drunk.” + </p> + <p> + But Rowdy opened the door decisively, and Miss Conroy, her cheeks like two + storm-buffeted poppies, followed him out with dignity—albeit + trailing a yard of red-and-yellow Navajo blanket behind her. Rowdy lifted + her into the saddle, tucked her feet carefully under the blanket, and said + never a word. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vaughan,” she began hesitatingly, “this is too bad; you need not have + left. I—I wasn't afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you weren't,” conceded Rowdy. “But it was a hard formation—for + a woman. Are there any more places on this flat marked Unavailable?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy replied misanthropically that if there were they would be sure + to find them. + </p> + <p> + They took up their weary wanderings again, while the yellow eye of the + window winked after them. They missed Rodway's by a scant hundred yards, + and didn't know it, because the side of the house next them had no lighted + windows. They traveled in a wide, half circle, and thought that they were + leaving a straight trail behind them. More than once Rowdy was urged by + his aching arm to drop the lead-rope and leave Chub to shift by himself, + but habit was strong and his heart was soft. Then he felt an odd twitching + at the lead-rope, as if Chub were minded to rebel against their + leadership. Rowdy yanked him into remembrance of his duty, and wondered. + Bill Brown's question came insistently to mind; he wondered the more. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes and the lead-rope was sawing against the small of his back + again. Rowdy turned Dixie's head, and spoke for the first time in an hour. + </p> + <p> + “My packhorse seems to have an idea about where he wants to go,” he said. + “I guess we might as well follow him as anybody; he ain't often taken with + a rush of brains to the head. And we can't be any worse lost than we are + now, can we?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy said no dispiritedly, and they swung about and followed Chub's + leadership apathetically. It took Chub just five minutes to demonstrate + that he knew what he was about. When he stopped, it was with his nose + against a corral gate; not content with that, he whinnied, and a new, + exultant note was in the sound. A deep-voiced dog bayed loudly, and a + shrill yelp cut in and clamored for recognition. + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy gasped. “It's Lion and Skeesicks. We're at Rodway's, Mr. + Vaughan.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy, for the second time, thanked the Lord. But when he was stripping + the pack off Chub's back, ten minutes later, he was thinking many things + he would not have cared to say aloud. It might be all right, but it sure + was strange, he told himself, that Chub belonged here at Rodway's when + Harry Conroy claimed that he was an Oregon horse. Rowdy had thought his + account against Harry Conroy long enough, but it looked now as though + another item must be added to the list. He went in and ate his supper + thoughtfully, and when he got into bed he did not fall asleep within two + minutes, as he might be expected to do. His last conscious thought was not + of stolen horses, however. It was: “And she's Harry Conroy's sister! Now, + what do you think of that? But all the same, she's sure a nice little + schoolma'am.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 3. Rowdy Hires a New Boss. + </h2> + <p> + Next morning, after breakfast, Mr. Rodway followed Vaughan out to the + stable, and repeated Bill Brown's question. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know where yuh got this horse,” he began, with an apologetic + sort of determination in his tone. “He happens to belong to me. He was run + off with a bunch three years ago, and this is the first trace anybody has + ever got of 'em. I see the brand's been worked. It was a Roman four—that's + my brand; now it looks like a map of Texas; but I'd swear to the horse—raised + him from a colt.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy had expected something of the sort, and he knew quite well what he + was going to do; he had settled that the night before, with the memory of + Miss Conroy's eyes fresh in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I got him in a deal across the line,” he said. “I was told he came from + east Oregon. But last night, when he piloted us straight to your corral + gate, I guessed he'd been here before. He's yours, all right, if you say + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Uh course he ain't worth such a pile uh money,” apologized Rodway, “but + the kids thought a heap of him. I'd rather locate some of the horses that + was with him—or the man yuh got him of. They was some mighty good + horses run out uh this country then, but they was all out on the range, so + we didn't miss 'em in time to do any good. Do yu know who took 'em across + the line?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Rowdy deliberately. “The man I got Chub from went north, and I + heard he got killed. I don't know of any other in the deal.” + </p> + <p> + Rodway grunted, and Vaughan began vigorously brushing Dixie's roughened + coat. “If you don't mind,” he said, after a minute, “I'd like to borrow + Chub to pack my bed over to the Cross L. I can bring him back again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sure!” assented Rodway eagerly. “I hate to take him from yuh, but + the kids—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” interrupted Rowdy cheerfully. “It's all in the + game, and I should 'a' looked up his pedigree, for I knew—. Anyway, + was worth the price of him to have him along last night. We'd have milled + around till daylight, I guess, only for him.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what,” agreed Rodway. “Jessie's horse is one she brought from home + lately, and he ain't located yet; I dunno as he'd 'a' piloted her home. + Billy—that's what the kids named him—was born and raised here, + yuh see. I'll bet he's glad to get back—and the kids'll be plumb + wild.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy did not answer; there seemed nothing in particular to say, and he + was wondering if he would see Miss Conroy before he left. She had not + eaten breakfast with the others; from their manner, he judged that no one + expected her to. He was not well informed upon the subject of + schoolma'ams, but he had a hazy impression that late rising was a + distinguishing characteristic—and he did not know how late. He + saddled leisurely, and packed his bed for the last time upon Chub. The + red-and-yellow Navajo blanket he folded tenderly, with an unconscious + smile for the service it had done, and laid it in its accustomed place in + the bed. Then, having no plausible excuse for going back to the house, he + mounted and rode away into the brilliant white world, watching wistfully + the house from the tail of his eye. + </p> + <p> + She might have got up in time to see him off, he thought discontentedly; + but he supposed one cowpuncher more or less made little difference to her. + Anyway, he didn't know as he had any license to moon around her. She + probably had a fellow; she might even be engaged, for all he knew. And—she + was Harry Conroy's sister; and from his experience with the breed, good + looks didn't count for anything. Harry was good-looking, and he was a + snake, if ever there was one. He had never expected to lie for him—but + he had done it, all right—and because Harry's sister happened to + have nice eyes and a pretty little foot!— + </p> + <p> + He had half a mind to go back and tell Rodway all he knew about those + horses; it was only a matter of time, anyway, till Harry Conroy overshot + the mark and got what was coming to him. He sure didn't owe Harry + anything, that he had need to shield him like he had done. Still, Rodway + would wonder why he hadn't told it at first; and that little girl believed + in Harry, and said he was “splendid!” Humph! He wondered if she really + meant that. If she did— + </p> + <p> + He squared his back to the house—and the memory of Miss Conroy's + eyes—and plodded across the field to the gate. Now the sun was + shining, and there was no possibility of getting lost. The way to the + Cross L lay straight and plain before him. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy rode leisurely up over the crest of a ridge beyond which lay the + home ranch of the Cross L. Whether it was henceforth to be his home he had + yet to discover—though there was reason for hoping that it would be. + Even so venturesome a man as Rowdy Vaughan would scarce ride a long + hundred miles through unpeopled prairie, in the tricky month of March, + without some reason for expecting a welcome at the end of his journey. In + this case, a previous acquaintance with “Wooden Shoes” Mielke, foreman of + the Cross L, was Rowdy's trump-card. Wooden Shoes, whenever chance had + brought them together in the last two or three years, was ever urging + Rowdy to come over and unroll his soogans in the Cross L bed-tent, and + promising the best string in the outfit to ride—besides other things + alluring to a cow-puncher. So that, when his relations with the Horseshoe + Bar became strained, Rowdy remembered his friend of the Cross L and the + promises, and had drifted south. + </p> + <p> + Just now he hoped that Wooden Shoes would be home to greet him, and his + eyes searched wishfully the huddle of low-eaved cabins and the assortment + of sheds and corrals for the bulky form of the foreman. But no one seemed + to be about—except a bigbodied, bandy-legged individual, who + appeared to be playfully chasing a big, bright bay stallion inside the + large enclosure where stood the cabins. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy watched them impersonally; a glance proved that the man was not + Wooden Shoes, and so he was not particularly interested in him or his + doings. It did occur to him, however, that if the fellow wanted to catch + that brute, he ought to have sense enough to get a horse. No one but a + plumb idiot would mill around in that snow afoot. He jogged down the slope + at a shuffling trot, grinning tolerantly at the pantomime below. + </p> + <p> + He of the bandy-legs stopped, evidently out of breath; the stallion + stopped also, snorting defiance. Rowdy heard him plainly, even at that + distance. The horse arched his neck and watched the man warily, ready to + be off at the first symptom of hostilities—and Rowdy observed that a + short rope hung from his halter, swaying as he moved. + </p> + <p> + Bandy-legs seemed to have an idea; he turned and scuttled to the nearest + cabin, returning with what seemed a basin of oats, for he shook it + enticingly and edged cautiously toward the horse. Rowdy could imagine him + coaxing, with hypocritically endearing names, such as “Good old boy!” and + “Steady now, Billy”—or whatever the horse's name might be. Rowdy + chuckled to himself, and hoped the horse saw through the subterfuge. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the horse chuckled also; at any rate, he stood quite still, + equally prepared to bounce away on the instant or to don the mask of + docility. Bandy-legs drew nearer and nearer, shaking the basin briskly, + like an old woman sifting meal. The horse waited, his nostrils quivering + hungrily at the smell of the oats, and with an occasional low nicker. + </p> + <p> + Bandy-legs went on tiptoes—or as nearly as he could in the snow—the + basin at arm's length before. The dainty, flaring nostrils sniffed + tentatively, dipped into the basin, and snuffed the oats about luxuriously—till + he felt a stealthy hand seize the dangling rope. At the touch he snorted + protest, and was off and away, upsetting Bandy-legs and the basin + ignominiously into a high-piled drift. + </p> + <p> + Bandy-legs sat up, scraped the snow out of his collar and his ears, and + swore. It was then that Rowdy appeared like an angel of deliverance. + </p> + <p> + “Want that horse caught?” he yelled cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + Bandy-legs lifted up his voice and bellowed things I should not like to + repeat verbatim. But Rowdy gathered that the man emphatically did want + that so-and-so-and-then-some horse caught, and that it couldn't be done a + blessed minute too soon. Whereat Rowdy smiled anew, with his face + discreetly turned away from Bandy-legs, and took down his rope and widened + the loop. Also, he turned Chub loose. + </p> + <p> + The stallion evidently sensed what new danger threatened his stolen + freedom, and circled the yard with high, springy strides. Rowdy circled + after, saw his chance, swirled the loop twice over his head, and hazarded + a long throw. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy knew it for pure good luck that it landed right, but to this day + Bandy-legs looks upon him as a Wonder with a rope—and Bandy-legs + would insist upon the capital. + </p> + <p> + “Where shall I take him?” Rowdy asked, coming up with his captive, and + with nothing but his eyes to show how he was laughing inwardly. + </p> + <p> + Bandy-legs crawled from the drift, still scraping snow from inside his + collar, and gave many directions about going through a certain gate into + such-and-such a corral; from there into a stable; and by seeming devious + ways into a minutely described stall. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Rowdy, cutting short the last needless details. “I guess + I can find the trail;” and started off, leading the stallion. Bandy-legs + followed, and Chub, observing the departure of Dixie, ambled faithfully in + the rear. + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged,” conceded Bandy-legs, when the stallion was safely housed + and tied securely. “Where yuh headed for, young man?” + </p> + <p> + “Right here,” Rowdy told him calmly, loosening Dixie's cinch. “I'm the + long-lost top hand that the Cross L's been watching the sky-line for, lo! + these many moons, a-yearning for the privilege of handing me forty plunks + about twice as fast as I've got 'em coming. Where's the boss?” + </p> + <p> + “Er—I'm him,” confessed Bandy-legs meekly, and circled the two + dubiously. “I guess you've heard uh Eagle Creek Smith—I'm him. The + Cross L belongs to me.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy let out an explosive, and showed a row of nice teeth. “Well, I ain't + hard to please,” he added. “I won't kick on that, I guess. I like your + looks tolerable well, and I'm willing to take yuh on for a boss. If yuh do + your part, I bet we'll get along fine.” His tone was banteringly + patronizing “Anyway, I'll try yuh for a spell. You can put my name down as + Rowdy Vaughan, lately canned from the Horseshoe Bar.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” ventured Bandy-legs—rather, Eagle Creek—still + circling Rowdy dubiously. + </p> + <p> + “What for was I canned?” repeated Rowdy easily. “Being a modest youth, I + hate t' tell yuh. But the old man's son and me, we disagreed, and one of + his eyes swelled some; so did mine, a little.” He stood head and shoulders + above Eagle Creek, and he smiled down upon him engagingly. Eagle Creek + capitulated before the smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain't got any sons—that I know of,” he grinned. “So I guess + yuh can consider yourself a Cross L man till further notice.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sure!” The teeth gleamed again briefly. “That's what I've been + telling you right along. Where's old Wooden Shoes? He's responsible for me + being here.” + </p> + <p> + “Gone to Chinook. He'll be back in a day or two.” Eagle Creek shifted his + feet awkwardly. “Say”—he glanced uneasily behind him—“yuh + don't want t' let it get around that yuh sort of—hired me—see?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” Rowdy assured him. “I was only joshing. If you don't want + me, just tell me to hit the sod.” + </p> + <p> + “You stay right where you're at!” commanded Eagle Creek with returned + confidence in himself and his authority. Of a truth, this self-assured, + straight-limbed young man had rather dazed him. “Take your bed and war-bag + up to the bunk-house and make yourself t' home till the boys get back, and—say, + where'd yuh git that pack-horse?” + </p> + <p> + The laugh went out of Rowdy's tawny eyes. The question hit a spot that was + becoming sore. “I borrowed him this morning from Mr. Rodway,” he said + evenly. “I'm to take him back to-day. I stopped there last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Eagle Creek coughed apologetically, and said no word, while Rowdy + led Chub back to the cabin which he had pointed out as the bunk-house; he + stood by while Rowdy loosened the pack and dragged it inside. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you can get located here,” he said. “I ain't workin' more'n three + or four men just now, but there's quite a few uh the boys stopping here; + the Cross L's a regular hang-out for cow-punchers. You're a little early + for the season, but I'll see that yuh have something t' do—just t' + keep yuh out uh devilment.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy's brows unbent; it would seem that Eagle Creek was capable of + “joshing” also. “It's up t' you, old-timer,” he retorted. “I'm strong and + willing, and don't shy at anything but pitchforks.” + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek grinned. “This ain't no blamed cowhospital,” he gave as a + parting shot. “All the hay that's shoveled on this ranch needn't hurt + nobody's feelings.” With that he shut the door, and left Rowdy to acquaint + himself with his new home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 4. Pink as “Chappyrone.” + </h2> + <p> + Rowdy was sprawled ungracefully upon somebody's bunk—he neither knew + nor cared whose—and he was snoring unmelodiously, and not dreaming a + thing; for when a cow-puncher has nothing in particular to do, he sleeps + to atone for the weary hours when he must be very wide-awake. An avalanche + descended upon his unwarned middle, and checked the rhythmic ebb and flow + of sound. He squawked and came to life clawing viciously. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like t' know where the devil yuh come from,” a voice remarked + plaintively in a soft treble. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy opened his eyes with a snap. “Pink! by all that's good and bad! Get + up off my diaphragm, you little fiend.” + </p> + <p> + Pink absent-mindedly kneaded Rowdy's stomach with his knuckles, and + immediately found himself in a far corner. He came back, dimpling + mischievously. He looked much more an angel than a fiend, for all his + Angora chaps and flame-colored scarf. + </p> + <p> + “Your bed and war-bag's on my bunk; you're on Smoky's; and Dixie's makin' + himself to home in the corral. By all them signs and tokens, I give a + reckless guess you're here t' stay a while. That right?” He prodded again + at Rowdy's ribs. + </p> + <p> + “It sure is, Pink. And if I'd known you was holding out here, I'd 'a' come + sooner, maybe. You sure look good to me, you darned little cuss!” Rowdy + sat up and took a lightning inventory of the four or five other fellows + lounging about. He must have slept pretty sound, he thought, not to hear + them come in. + </p> + <p> + Pink read the look, and bethought him of the necessary introductions. + “This is my side-kicker over the line that—you've heard about till + you're plumb weary, boys,” he announced musically. “His name is Rowdy + Vaughan—bronco-peeler, crap fiend, and all-round bad man. He ain't a + safe companion, and yuh want t' sleep with your six-guns cuddled under + your right ear, and never, on no account, show him your backs. He's a real + wolf, he is, and the only reason I live t' tell the tale is because he + respects m' size. Boys, I'm afraid for yuh—but I wish yuh well.” + </p> + <p> + “Pink, you need killing, and I'm tempted to live up to my rep,” grinned + Rowdy indulgently. “Read me the pedigree of your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they ain't no worse—when yuh git used to 'em. That long-legged + jasper with the far-away look in his eyes is the Silent One—if he + takes a notion t' you, he'll maybe tell yuh the name his mother calls him. + He may have seen better days; but here's hoping he won't see no worse! He + once was a tenderfoot; but he's convalescing.” + </p> + <p> + The Silent One nodded carelessly, but with a quick, measuring glance that + Rowdy liked. + </p> + <p> + “This unshaved savage is Smoky. He's harmless, if yuh don't mention + socialism in his presence; and if yuh do, he'll + down-with-the-trust-and-long-live-the-sons-uh-toil, all hours uh the + night, and keep folks awake. Then him and the fellow that started him off + 'll likely get chapped good and plenty. Over there's Jim Ellis and Bob + Nevin; they've both turned a cow or two, and I've seen worse specimens + running around loose—plenty of 'em. That man hidin' behind the grin—you + can see him if yuh look close—is Sunny Sam. Yuh needn't take no + notice of him, unless you're a mind to. He won't care—he's dead + gentle. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he broke off, “how'd you happen t' stray onto this range, anyhow? + Yuh used t' belong t the Horseshoe Bar so solid the assessor always t' yuh + down on the personal-property list.” + </p> + <p> + “They won't pay taxes on me no more, son.” Rowdy's eyes dwelt fondly upon + Pink's cupid-bow mouth and dimples. He had never dreamed of finding Pink + here; though, when he came to think of it there was no reason why he + shouldn't. + </p> + <p> + Pink was not like any one else. He was slight and girlish to look at. But + you mustn't trust appearances; for Pink was all muscle strung on steel + wire, according to the belief of those who tried to handle him. He had + little white hands, and feet that looked quite comfortable in a number + four boot, and his hair was a tawny gold and curled in distracting, damp + rings on his forehead. His eyes were blue and long-lashed and beautiful, + and they looked at the world with baby innocence—whereas a more + sophisticated little devil never jangled spurs at his heels. He was + everything but insipid, and men liked him—unless he chose to dislike + them, when they thought of him with grating teeth. To find him bullying + the Cross L boys brought a warmth to Rowdy's heart. + </p> + <p> + Pink made a cigarette, and then offered Rowdy his tobacco-sack, and asked + questions about the Cypress Hills country. How was this girl?—and + was that one married yet?—and did the other still grieve for him? As + a matter of fact, he had yet to see the girl who could quicken his pulse a + single beat, and for that reason it sometimes pleased him to affect + susceptibility beyond that of other men. + </p> + <p> + It was after dinner when he and Rowdy went humming down to the stables, + gossiping like a couple of old women over a back fence. + </p> + <p> + “I see you've got Conroy's Chub yet,” Pink observed carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, for Heaven's sake let up on that cayuse!” Rowdy cried petulantly. “I + wish I'd never got sight of the little buzzard-head; I've had him crammed + down my throat the last day or two till it's getting plumb monotonous. + Pink, that cayuse never saw Oregon. He was raised right on this flat, and + he belongs to old Rodway. I've got to lead him back there and turn him + over to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Pink took three puffs at his cigarette, and lifted his long lashes to + Rowdy's gloom-filled face. “Stole?” he asked briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Stole,” Rowdy repeated disgustedly. “So was the whole blame' bunch, as + near as I can make out.” + </p> + <p> + “We might 'a' knowed it. We might 'a' guessed Harry Conroy wouldn't have a + straight title to anything if he could make it crooked. I bet he never + finished paying back that money yuh lent him—out uh the kindness uh + your heart. Did he?” Pink leaned against the corral fence and kicked + meditatively at a snow-covered rock. + </p> + <p> + “He did not, m' son. Chub's all I ever got out uh the deal—and I + haven't even got him. I borrowed him from Rodway to pack my bed over—borrowed + the blame' little runty cayuse that cost me sixty-four hard-earned + dollars; that's what Harry borrowed of me. And every blame' gazabo on the + flat wanted to know what I was doing with him!” + </p> + <p> + “I can tell yuh where t' find Conroy, Rowdy. He's working for an outfit + down on the river. I'd sure fix him for this! Yuh got plenty of evidence; + you can send him up like a charm. It was different when he cut your latigo + strap in that rough-riding contest; yuh couldn't prove it on him. But this—why, + man, it's a cinch!” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't lost Harry Conroy, so I ain't looking for him just now,” + growled Rowdy. “So long as he keeps out uh reach, I won't ask no more of + him. And, Pink, I wish you'd keep this quiet—about him having Chub. + I told Rodway I couldn't put him next to the fellow that brought that + bunch across the line. I told him the fellow went north and got killed. He + did go north—fifty miles or so; and he'd ought to been killed, if he + wasn't. Let it go that way, Pink.” + </p> + <p> + Pink looked like a cherub-faced child when he has been told there's no + Santa Claus. “Sure, if yuh say so,” he stammered dubiously. He eyed Rowdy + reproachfully, and then looked away to the horizon. He kicked the rock out + of place, and then poked it painstakingly back with his toe—and from + the look of him, he did not know there was a rock there at all. + </p> + <p> + “How'd yuh happen to run across Rodway?” he asked guilelessly. + </p> + <p> + “I stopped there last night. I got to milling around in that storm, and + ran across the schoolma'am that boards at Rodway's, She was plumb lost, + too, so we dubbed around together for a while, and finally got inside + Rodway's field. Then Chub come alive and piloted us to the house. This + morning Rodway claimed him—says the brand has been worked from a + Roman four. Oh, it's all straight goods,” he added hastily. “Old Eagle + Creek here knew him, too.” + </p> + <p> + But Pink was not thinking of Chub. He hunched his chap-belt higher and + spat viciously into the snow. “I knowed it,” he declared, with melancholy + triumph. “It's school-ma'amitis that's gave yuh softening uh the vitals, + and not no Christian charity play. How comes it you're took that way, all + unbeknown t' your friends? Yuh never used t' bother about no female girls. + It's a cinch you're wise that she's Harry's sister; and I admit she's a + swell looker. But so's he; and I should think, Rowdy, you'd had about + enough uh that brand uh snake.” + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing so snaky about her that I could see,” defended Rowdy. He + did not particularly relish having his own mental argument against Miss + Conroy thrown back at him from another. “She seemed to be all right; and + if you'd seen how plucky she was in that blizzard—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never heard anybody stand up and call Harry white-livered, when + yuh come t' that,” Pink cut in tartly. “Anyway, you're a blame fool. If + she was a little white-winged angel, yuh wouldn't stand no kind uh show; + and I tell yuh why. She's got a little tin god that she says prayers to + regular.” + </p> + <p> + “That's Harry. And wouldn't he be the fine brother-in-law? He could borrow + all your wages off'n yuh, and when yuh went t' make a pretty ride, he'd up + and cut your latigo, and give yuh a fall. And he could work stolen horses + off onto yuh—and yuh wouldn't give a damn, 'cause Jessie wears a + number two shoe—” + </p> + <p> + “You must have done some rimrock riding after her yourself!” jeered Rowdy. + </p> + <p> + “And has got shiny brown eyes, just like Harry's—” + </p> + <p> + “They're not!” laughed Rowdy, half-angrily. “If you say that again, Pink, + I'll stick your head in a snow-bank. Her eyes are all right. They sure + look good to me.” + </p> + <p> + “You've sure got 'em,” mourned Pink. “Yuh need t' be close-herded by your + friends, and that's no dream. You wait till toward evening before yuh take + that horse back. I'm going along t' chappyrone yuh, Rowdy. Yuh ain't safe + running loose any more.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy cursed him companionably and told him to go along, if he wanted to, + and to look out he didn't throw up his own hands; and Pink grumbled and + swore and did go along. But when they got there, Miss Conroy greeted him + like a very good friend; which sent Rowdy sulky, and kept him so all the + evening. It seemed to him that Pink was playing a double game, and when + they started home he told him so. + </p> + <p> + But Pink turned in his saddle and smiled so that his dimples showed + plainly in the moonlight. “Chappyrones that set in a corner and look wise + are the rankest kind uh fakes,” he explained. “When she was talking to me, + she was letting you alone—see?” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy accepted the explanation silently, and stored it away in his memory. + After that, by riding craftily, and by threats, and by much vituperation, + he managed to reach Rodway's unchapperoned at least three times out of + five—which was doing remarkably well, when one considers Pink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 5. At Home at Cross L. + </h2> + <p> + In two days Rowdy was quite at home with the Cross L. In a month he found + himself transplanted from the smoke-laden air of the bunk-house, and set + off from the world in a line camp, with nothing to do but patrol the boggy + banks of Milk River, where it was still unfenced and unclaimed by small + farmers. The only mitigation of his exile, so far as he could see, lay in + the fact that he had Pink and the Silent One for companions. + </p> + <p> + It developed that when he would speak to the Silent One, he must say Jim, + or wait long for a reply. Also, the Silent One was not always silent, and + he was quick to observe the weak points in those around him, and keen at + repartee. When it pleased him so to do, he could handle the English + language in a way that was perfectly amazing—and not always + intelligible to the unschooled. At such times Pink frankly made no attempt + to understand him; Rowdy, having been hustled through grammar school and + two-thirds through high school before he ran away from a brand new + stepmother, rather enjoyed the outbreaks and Pink's consequent disgust. + </p> + <p> + Not one of them loved particularly the line camp, and Rowdy least of all, + since it put an extra ten miles between Miss Conroy and himself. Rowdy had + got to that point where his mind dwelt much upon matters domestic, and he + made many secret calculations on the cost of housekeeping for two. More + than that, he put himself upon a rigid allowance for pocket-money—an + allowance barely sufficient to keep him in tobacco and papers. All this + without consulting Miss Conroy's wishes—which only goes to show that + Rowdy Vaughan was a born optimist. + </p> + <p> + The Silent One complained that he could not keep supplied with + reading-matter, and Pink bewailed the monotony of inaction. For, beyond + watching the river to keep the cattle from miring in the mud lately + released from frost grip, there was nothing to do. + </p> + <p> + According to the calendar, spring was well upon them, and the prairies + would soon be flaunting new dresses of green. The calendar, however, had + neglected to record the rainless heat of the summer gone before, or the + searing winds that burned the grass brown as it grew, or the winter which + forgot its part and permitted prairie-dogs to chip-chip-chip above ground + in January, when they should be sleeping decently in their cellar homes. + </p> + <p> + Apart from the brief storm which Rowdy had brought with him, there had + been no snow worth considering. Always the chill winds shaved the barren + land from the north, or veered unexpectedly, and blew dry warmth from the + southwest; but never the snow for which the land yearned. Wind, and bright + sunlight, and more wind, and hypocritical, drifting clouds, and more sun; + lean cattle walking, walking, up-hill and down coulee, nose to the dry + ground, snipping the stray tufts where should be a woolly carpet of sweet, + ripened grasses, eating wildrose bushes level with the sod, and wishing + there was only an abundance even of them; drifting uneasily from hilltop + to farther hilltop, hunger-driven and gaunt, where should be sleek + content. When they sought to continue their quest beyond the river, and + the weaker bogged at its muddy edge, Rowdy and Pink and the Silent One + would ride out, and with their ropes drag them back ignominiously to solid + ground and the very doubtful joy of living. + </p> + <p> + May Day found the grass-land brown and lifeless, with a chill wind blowing + over it. The cattle wandered as before except that knock-kneed little + calves trailed beside their lean mothers and clamored for full stomachs. + </p> + <p> + The Cross L cattle bore the brunt of the range famine, because Eagle Creek + Smith was a stockman of the old school. His cattle must live on the open + range, because they always had done so. Other men bought or leased large + tracts of grass-land, and fenced them for just such an emergency, but not + he. It is true that he had two or three large fields, as Miss Conroy had + told Rowdy, but it was his boast that all the hay he raised was eaten by + his saddlehorses, and that all the fields he owned were used solely for + horse pastures. The open range was the place for cattle and no Cross L + critter ever fed inside a wire fence. + </p> + <p> + Through the dry summer before, when other men read the ominous signs and + hurriedly leased pasture-land and cut down their herds to what the fields + would feed, Eagle Creek went calmly on as he had done always. He shipped + what beef was fit—and that, of a truth, was not much!—and + settled down for the winter, trusting to winter snows and spring rains to + refill the long-dry lakes and waterholes, and coat the levels anew with + grass. + </p> + <p> + But the winter snows had failed to appear, and with the spring came no + rain. “April showers” became a hideously ironical joke at nature's + expense. Always the wind blew, and sometimes great flocks of clouds would + drift superciliously up from the far sky-line, play with men's hopes, and + sail disdainfully on to some more favored land. + </p> + <p> + It is all very well for a man to cling stubbornly to precedent, but if he + clings long enough, there comes a time when to cling becomes akin to + crime. Eagle Creek Smith still stubbornly held that rangecattle should be + kept to the range. He waited until May was fast merging to June, watching, + from sheer habit, for the spring transformation of brown prairies into + green. When it did not come, and only the coulee sides and bottoms showed + green among the brown, he accepted ruefully the unusual conditions which + nature had thrust upon him, and started “Wooden Shoes” out with the wagons + on the horse round-up, which is a preliminary to the roundup proper, as + every one knows. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 6. A Shot From the Dark. + </h2> + <p> + “I call that a bad job well done,” Pink remarked, after a long silence, as + he gave over trying to catch a fish in the muddy Milk River. + </p> + <p> + “What?” Rowdy, still prone to day-dreams of matters domestic, came back + reluctantly to reality, and inspected his bait. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come alive! I mean the horse round-up. How we're going to keep that + bunch uh skeletons under us all summer is a guessing contest for fair. + Wooden Shoes has got t' give me about forty, instead of a dozen, if he + wants me t' hit 'er up on circle the way I'm used to. I bet their + back-bones'll wear clean up through our saddles.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guess not,” said Rowdy calmly. “They ain't so thin—and + they'll pick up flesh. There's some mighty good ones in the bunch, too. I + hope Wooden Shoes don't forget to give me the first pick. There's one I + got my eye on—that blue roan. Anyway, I guess you can wiggle along + with less than forty.” + </p> + <p> + Pink shook his head thoughtfully and sighed. Pink loved good mounts, and + the outlook did not please him. The round-up had camped, for the last + time, on the river within easy riding distance of Camas. The next day's + drive would bring them to the home ranch, where Eagle Creek was fuming + over the lateness of the season, the condition of the range, and the June + rains, which had thus far failed even to moisten decently the grass-roots. + </p> + <p> + “Let's ride over to Camas; all the other fellows have gone,” Pink proposed + listlessly, drawing in his line. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy as listlessly consented. Camas as a town was neither interesting nor + important; but when one has spent three long weeks communing with nature + in her sulkiest and most unamiable mood, even a town without a railroad to + its name may serve to relieve the monotony of living. + </p> + <p> + The sun was piling gorgeous masses of purple and crimson clouds high about + him, cuddling his fat cheeks against their soft folds till, a Midas, he + turned them to gold at the touch. Those farther away gloomed jealously at + the favoritism of their lord, and huddled closer together—the purple + for rage, perhaps; and the crimson for shame! + </p> + <p> + Pink's face was tinged daintily with the glow, and even Rowdy's lean, + brown features were for the moment glorified. They rode knee to knee + silently, thinking each his own thoughts the while they watched the sunset + with eyes grown familiar with its barbaric splendor, but never + indifferent. + </p> + <p> + Soon the west held none but the deeper tints, and the shadows climbed, + with the stealthy tread of trailing Indians, from the valley, chasing the + after-glow to the very hilltops, where it stood a moment at bay and then + surrendered meekly to the dusk. A meadow-lark near-by cut the silence into + haunting ripples of melody, stopped affrighted at their coming, and flew + off into the dull glow of the west; his little body showed black against a + crimson cloud. Out across the river a lone coyote yapped sharply, then + trailed off into the weird plaint of his kind. + </p> + <p> + “Brother-in-law's in town to-day; Bob Nevin saw him,” Pink remarked, when + the coyote ceased wailing and held his peace. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” Rowdy only half-heard. + </p> + <p> + “Bob Nevin,” repeated Pink naively. + </p> + <p> + “Don't get funny. Who did Bob see?” + </p> + <p> + “Brother-in-law. Yours, not mine. Jessie's tin god. If he's there yet, I + bid for an invite to the 'swatfest.' Or maybe”—a horrible + possibility forced itself upon Pink—“maybe you'll kill the fattest + maverick and fall on his neck—” + </p> + <p> + “The maverick's?” Rowdy's brows were rather pinched together, but his tone + told nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Naw; Harry Conroy's a fellow's liable to do most any fool thing when he's + got schoolma'amitis.” + </p> + <p> + “That so?” + </p> + <p> + Pink snorted. The possibility had grown to black certainty in his mind. He + became suddenly furious. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! I hope some kind friend'll lead me out an' knock me in the head, if + ever I get locoed over any darned girl!” + </p> + <p> + “Same here,” agreed Rowdy, unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “Then your days are sure numbered in words uh one syllable, old-timer,” + snapped Pink. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy leaned and patted him caressingly upon the shoulder—a form of + irony which Pink detested. “Don't get excited, sonny,” he soothed. “Did + you fetch your gun?” + </p> + <p> + “I sure did!” Pink drew a long breath of relief. “Yuh needn't think I'm + going t' take chances on being no human colander. I've packed a gun for + Harry Conroy ever since that rough-riding contest uh yourn. Yuh mind the + way I took him under the ear with a rock? He's been makin' war-talk behind + m' back ever since. Did I bring m' gun! Well, I guess yes!” He dimpled + distractingly. + </p> + <p> + “All the same, it'll suit me not to run up against him,” said Rowdy quite + frankly. He knew Pink would understand. Then he lifted his coat + suggestively, to show the weapon concealed beneath, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Different here. Yuh did have sense enough t' be ready—and if yuh + see him, and don't forget he's got a sister with a number two foot, damned + if I don't fix yuh both a-plenty!” He settled his hat more firmly over his + curls, and eyed Rowdy anxiously from under his lashes. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy caught the action and the look from the tail of his eye, and grinned + at his horse's ears. Pink in warlike mood always made him think of a + four-year-old child playing pirate with the difference that Pink was + always in deadly earnest and would fight like a fiend. + </p> + <p> + For more reasons than one he hoped they would not meet Harry Conroy. + Jessie was still in ignorance of his real attitude toward her brother, and + Rowdy wanted nothing more than to keep her so. The trouble was that he was + quite certain to forget everything but his grievances, if ever he came + face to face with Harry. Also, Pink would always fight quicker for his + friends than for himself, and he felt very tender toward Pink. So he hoped + fervently that Harry Conroy had already ridden back whence he came, and + there would be no unpleasantness. + </p> + <p> + Four or five Cross L horses stood meekly before the Come Again Saloon, so + Rowdy and Pink added theirs to the gathering and went in. The Silent One + looked up from his place at a round table in a far corner, and beckoned. + </p> + <p> + “We need another hand here,” he said, when they went over to him. “These + gentlemen are worried because they might be taken into high society some + day, and they would be placed in a very embarrassing position through + their ignorance of bridge-whist. I have very magnanimously consented to + teach them the rudiments.” + </p> + <p> + Bob Nevin looked up, and then lowered an eyelid cautiously. “He's a liar. + He offered to learn us how to play it; we bet him the drinks he didn't + savvy the game himself. Set down, Pink, and I'll have you for my pretty + pardner.” + </p> + <p> + The Silent One shuffled the cards thoughtfully. “To make it seem like + bona-fide bridge,” he began, “we should have everybody playing.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, the common, ordinary brand is good enough,” protested Bob. “I ain't + in on any trimmings.” + </p> + <p> + The Silent One smiled ever so slightly. “We should have prizes—or + favors. Is there a store in town where one could buy something suitable?” + </p> + <p> + “They got codfish up here; I smelt it,” suggested Jim Ellis. Him the + Silent One ignored. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say, boys, to a real, high society whist-party? I'll invite + the crowd, and be the hostess. And I'll serve punch—” + </p> + <p> + “Come on, fellows, and have one with me,” called a strange voice near the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Meeting's adjourned,” cried Jim Ellis, and got up to accept the + invitation and range along the bar with the rest. He had not been + particularly interested in bridge-whist anyway. + </p> + <p> + The others remained seated, and the bartender called across to know what + they would have. Pink cut the cards very carefully, and did not look up. + Rowdy thrust both hands in his pockets and turned his square shoulder to + the bar. He did not need to look—he knew that voice, with its shoddy + heartiness. + </p> + <p> + Men began to observe his attitude, and looked at one another. When one is + asked to drink with another, he must comply or decline graciously, if he + would not give a direct insult. + </p> + <p> + Harry Conroy took three long steps and laid a hand on Rowdy's shoulder—a + hand which Rowdy shook off as though it burned. “Say, stranger, are you + too high-toned t' drink with a common cowpuncher?” he demanded sharply. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy half-turned toward him. “No, sir. But I'll be mighty thirsty before + I drink with you.” His voice was even, but it cut. + </p> + <p> + The room stilled on the instant; it was as if every man of them had turned + to lay figures. Harry Conroy had winced at sight of Rowdy's face—men + saw that, and some of them wondered. Pink leaned back in his chair, every + nerve tightened for the next move, and waited. It was Harry—handsome, + sneering, a certain swaggering defiance in his pose—who first spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you, is it? I haven't saw yuh for some time. How's + bronco-fighting? Gone up against any more contests?” He laughed mockingly—with + mouth and eyes maddeningly like Jessie's in teasing mood. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy could have killed him for the resemblance alone. His lids drooped + sleepily over eyes that glittered. Harry saw the sign, read it for danger; + but he laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Yuh ought to have seen this bronco-peeler pull leather, boys,” he jeered + recklessly “I like to 'a' died. He got piled up the slickest I ever saw; + and there was some feeble-minded Canucks had money up on him, too: He + won't drink with me, 'cause I got off with the purse. He's got a grouch—and + I don't know as I blame him; he did get let down pretty hard, for a fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe he did pull leather—but he didn't cut none, like you did, you + damn' skunk!” It was Pink—Pink, with big, long-lashed eyes purple + with rage, and with a dead-white streak around his mouth, and a gun in his + hand. + </p> + <p> + Harry wheeled toward him, and if a new light of fear crept into his eyes, + his lips belied it in a sneer. “Two of a kind!” he laughed. “So that's the + story yuh brought over here, is it? Hell of a lot uh good it'll do yuh!” + </p> + <p> + Something in Pink's face warned Rowdy. Harry's face turned watchfully from + one to the other. Evidently he considered Pink the more uncertain of the + two; and he was quite justified in so thinking. Pink was only waiting for + a cue before using his gun; and when Pink once began, there was no telling + where or when he would leave off. + </p> + <p> + While Harry stood uncertain, Rowdy's fist suddenly spatted against his + cheek with considerable force. He tumbled, a cursing heap, against the + foot-rail of the bar, scrambled up like a cat—a particularly vicious + cat—and came at Rowdy murderously. The Come Again would shortly have + been filled with the pungent haze of burned powder, only that the + bartender was a man-of-action. He hated brawls, and it did not matter to + him how just might be the quarrel; he slapped the gaping barrels of a + sawed-off shotgun across the bar—and from the look of it one might + imagine many disagreeable things. + </p> + <p> + “Drop it! Cut it out!” he bellowed. “Yuh ain't going t' make no + slaughter-pen out uh this joint, I tell yuh. Put up them guns or else take + 'em outside. If you fellers are hell-bent on smokin' each other up, they's + all kinds uh room outdoors. Git! Vamose! Hike!” + </p> + <p> + Conroy wheeled and walked, straight-backed and venomous, to the door. + “Come on out, if yuh ain't scared,” he sneered. “It's two agin' one and + then some, by the look uh things. But I'll take yuh singly or in bunches. + I'm ready for the whole damn' Cross L bunch uh coyotes. Come on, you + white-livered—!” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy rushed for him, with Pink and the Silent One at his heels. He had + forgotten that Harry Conroy ever had a sister of any sort whatsoever. All + he knew was that Harry had done him much wrong, of the sort which comes + near to being unforgivable, and that he had sneered insults that no man + may overlook. All he thought of was to get his hands on him. + </p> + <p> + Outside, the dusky stillness made all sounds seem out of place; the faint + starlight made all objects black and unfamiliar. Rowdy stopped, just off + the threshold, blinking at the darkness which held his enemy. It was + strange that he did not find him at his elbow, he thought—and a + suspicion came to him that Harry was lying in wait; it would be like him. + He stepped out of the yellow glare from a window and stood in more + friendly shade. Behind him, on the door-step, stood the other two, + blinking as he had done. + </p> + <p> + A form which he did not recognize rushed up out of the darkness and + confronted the three belligerently. “You're a-disturbin' the peace,” he + yelled. “We don't stand for nothing like that in Camas. You're my + prisoners—all uh yuh.” The edict seemed to include even the + bartender, peering over the shoulder of Bob Nevin, who struggled with + several others for immediate passage through the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “I guess not, pardner,” retorted Pink, facing him as defiantly as though + the marshal were not twice his size. + </p> + <p> + The marshal lunged for him; but the Silent One, reaching a long arm from + the door-step, rapped him smartly on the head with his gun. The marshal + squawked and went down in a formless heap. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, boys,” said the Silent One coolly. “I think we'd better go. Your + friend seems to have vanished in thin air.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy, grumbling mightily over what looked unpleasantly like retreat, was + pushed toward his horse and mounted under protest. Likewise Pink, who was + for staying and cleaning up the whole town. But the Silent One was firm, + and there was that in his manner which compelled obedience. + </p> + <p> + Harry Conroy might have been an optical—and aural—illusion, + for all the trace there was of him. But when the three rode out into the + little street, a bullet pinged close to Rowdy's left ear, and the red bark + of a revolver spat viciously from a black shadow beside the Come Again. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy and the two turned and rode back, shooting blindly at the place, but + the shadow yawned silently before them and gave no sign. Then the Silent + One, observing that the marshal was getting upon a pair of very unsteady + legs, again assumed the leadership, and fairly forced Rowdy and Pink into + the homeward trail. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 7. Rowdy in a Tough Place. + </h2> + <p> + Rowdy, with nice calculation, met Miss Conroy just as she had left the + school-house, and noted with much satisfaction that she was riding alone. + Miss Conroy, if she had been at all observant, must have seen the light of + some fixed purpose shining in his eyes; for Rowdy was resolved to make her + a partner in his dreams of matters domestic. And, of a truth, his easy + assurance was the thinnest of cloaks to hide his inner agitation. + </p> + <p> + “The round-up just got in yesterday afternoon,” he told her, as he swung + into the trail beside her. “We're going to start out again to-morrow, so + this is about the only chance I'll have to see you for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew the round-up must be in,” said Miss Conroy calmly. “I heard that + you were in Camas a night or two ago.” + </p> + <p> + Inwardly, Rowdy dodged. “We camped close to Camas,” he conceded guardedly. + “A lot of us fellows rode into town.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, so Harry told me,” she said. “He came over to see me yesterday. He + is going to leave—has already, in fact. He has had a fine position + offered him by the Indian agent at Belknap. The agent used to be a friend + of father's.” She looked at Rowdy sidelong, and then went straight at what + was in the minds of both. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry to hear, Mr. Vaughan, that you are on bad terms with Harry. + What was the trouble?” She turned her head and smiled at him—but the + smile did not bring his lips to answer; it was unpleasantly like the way + Harry smiled when he had some deviltry in mind. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy scented trouble and parried. “Men can't always get along agreeably + together.” + </p> + <p> + “And you disagree with a man rather emphatically, I should judge. Harry + said you knocked him down.” Politeness ruled her voice, but cheeks and + eyes were aflame. + </p> + <p> + “I did. And of course he told you how he took a shot at me from a dark + corner, outside.” Rowdy's eyes, it would seem, had kindled from the fire + in hers. + </p> + <p> + “No, he didn't—but I—you struck him first.” + </p> + <p> + “Hitting a man with your fist is one thing,” said Rowdy with decision. + “Shooting at him from ambush is another.” + </p> + <p> + “Harry shouldn't have done that,” she admitted with dignity. “But why + wouldn't you take a drink with him? Not that I approve of drinking—I + wish Harry wouldn't do such things—but he said it was an insult the + way you refused.” + </p> + <p> + “Jessie—” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Conroy, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Jessie”—he repeated the name stubbornly—“I think we'd better + drop that subject. You don't understand the case; and, anyway, I didn't + come here to discuss Harry. Our trouble is long standing, and if I + insulted him you ought to know I had a reason. I never came whining to you + about him, and it don't speak well for him that he hot-footed over to you + with his version. I suppose he'd heard about me—er—going to + see you, and wanted to queer me. I hope you'll take my word for it, + Jessie, that I've never harmed him; all the trouble he's made for himself, + one way and another. + </p> + <p> + “But what I came over for to-day concerns just you and me. I wanted to + tell you that—to ask you if you'll marry me. I might put it more + artistic, Jessie, but that's what I mean, and—I mean all the things + I'd like to say and can't.” He stopped and smiled at her, wistfully + whimsical. “I've been three weeks getting my feelings into proper words, + little girl, and coming over here I had a speech thought out that sure + done justice to my subject. But all I can remember of it is just that—that + I want you for always.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy looked away from him, but he could see a deeper tint of red in + her cheek. It seemed a long time before she said anything. Then: “But + you've forgotten about Harry. He's my brother, and he'd be—er—you + wouldn't want him related—to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Harry! Well, I pass him up. I've got a pretty long account against him; + but I'll cross it off. It won't be hard to do—for you. I've thought + of all that; and a man can forgive a whole lot in the brother of the woman + he loves.” He leaned toward her and added honestly: “I can't promise you + I'll ever get to like him, Jessie; but I'll keep my hands off him, and + I'll treat him civil; and when you consider all he's done, that's quite a + large-sized contract.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy became much interested in the ears of her horse. + </p> + <p> + “The only thing to decide is whether you like me enough. If you do, we'll + sure be happy. Never mind Harry.” + </p> + <p> + “You're very generous,” she flared, “telling me to never mind Harry. And + Harry's my own brother, and the only near relative I've got. I know he's—impulsive, + and quick-tempered, perhaps. But he needs me all the more. Do you think + I'll turn against him, even for you?” + </p> + <p> + That “even” may have been a slip, but it heartened Rowdy immensely. “I + don't ask you to,” he told her gently. “I only want you to not turn + against me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do wish you two would be sensible, and stop quarreling.” She glanced at + him briefly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm willing to cut it out—I told you that. I can't answer for him, + though.” Rowdy sighed, wishing Harry Conroy in Australia, or some place + equally remote. + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy suddenly resolved to be strictly just; and when a young woman + sets about being deliberately just, the Lord pity him whom she judges! + </p> + <p> + “Before I answer you, I must know just what all this is about,” she said + firmly. “I want to hear both sides; I'm sure Harry wouldn't do anything + mean. Do you think he would?” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy was dissentingly silent. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really, in your heart, believe that Harry would—knowingly—be + guilty of anything mean?” Her eyes plainly told the answer she wanted to + hear. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy looked into them, hesitated, and clung tenaciously to his + convictions. “Yes, I do; and I know Harry pretty well, Jessie.” His face + showed how much he hated to say it. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you are very prejudiced,” she sighed. “But go on; tell me just + what you have against Harry. I'm sure it can all be explained away, only I + must hear what it is.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy regarded her, puzzled. How he was to comply he did not know. It + would be simply brutal to tell her. He would feel like a hangman. And she + believed so in Harry, she wouldn't listen; even if she did, he thought + bitterly, she would hate him for destroying her faith. A woman's justice—ah, + me! + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see you're putting me in a mighty hard position, girlie?” he + protested. “You're a heap better off not to know. He's your brother. I + wish you'd take my word that I'll drop the whole thing right where it is. + Harry's had all the best of it, so far; let it stand that way.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes met his coldly. “Are you afraid to let me judge between you? What + did he do? Daren't you tell?” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy's lids drooped ominously. “If you call that a dare,” he said grimly, + “I'll tell you, fast enough. I was a friend to him when he needed one + mighty bad. I helped him when he was dead broke and out uh work. I kept + him going all winter—and to show his gratitude, he gave me the + doublecross, in more ways than one. I won't go into details.” He decided + that he simply could not tell her bluntly that Harry had worked off stolen + horses on him, and worse. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—you won't go into details!” Scorn filled eyes and voice. “Are + they so trivial, then? You tell me what you did for Harry—playing + Good Samaritan. Harry, let me tell you, has property of his own; I can't + see why he should ever be in need of charity. You're like all the rest; + you hint things against him—but I believe it's just jealousy. You + can't come out honestly and tell me a single instance where he has harmed + you, or done anything worse than other high-spirited young men.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't do any good to tell you,” he retorted. “You think he's just + lacking wings to be an angel. I hope to God you'll always be able to think + so! I'm sure I don't want to jar your faith.” + </p> + <p> + “I must say your actions don't bear out your words. You've just been + trying to turn me against him.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't. I've been trying to convince you that I want you, anyway, and + Harry needn't come between us.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, you're willing to overlook my being Harry's sister. I + appreciate your generosity, I'm sure.” She did not look, however, as if + she meant that. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean that.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't overlook it? How very unfortunate! Because I can't help + the relationship.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you, if you could?” he asked rashly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid we're getting off the trail,” he amended tactfully. “I asked + you, a while back, if you'd marry me.” + </p> + <p> + “And I said I must hear both sides of your trouble with Harry, before I + could answer.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use? You'd take his part, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if I found he was guilty of all you—insinuate. I should be + perfectly just.” She really believed that. + </p> + <p> + “Can't you tell me yes or no, anyway? Don't let him come between us.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it. We'd never agree, or be happy. He'd keep on coming + between us, whether we meant him to or not,” she said dispiritedly. + </p> + <p> + “That's a cinch,” Rowdy muttered, thinking of Harry's trouble-breeding + talents. + </p> + <p> + “Then there's no more to be said. Until you and Harry settle your + difficulties amicably, or I am convinced that he's in the wrong, we'll + just be friends, Mr. Vaughan. Good afternoon.” She rode into the Rodway + yard, feeling very just and virtuous, no doubt. But she left Rowdy with + some rather unpleasant thoughts, and with a sentiment toward her precious + brother which was not far from manslaughter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 8. Pink in a Threatening Mood. + </h2> + <p> + Eagle Creek Smith had at last reached the point where he must face new + conditions and change established customs. He could no longer ignore the + barrenness of the range, or close his eyes to the grim fact that his + cattle were facing starvation—and that in June, when they should be + taking on flesh. + </p> + <p> + When he finally did confess to himself that things couldn't go on like + that, others had been before him in leasing and buying land, until only + the dry benches were left to him and his hungry herds. + </p> + <p> + But Eagle Creek was a man of resource. When the round-up pulled in and + Wooden Shoes reported to him the general state of the cattle, and told of + the water-holes newly fenced and of creek bottoms gobbled by men more + farseeing than he, Eagle Creek took twenty-four hours to adjust himself to + the situation and to meet the crisis before him. His own land, as compared + to his twenty thousand cattle, was too pitifully inadequate for a second + thought. + </p> + <p> + He must look elsewhere for the correct answer to his problem. + </p> + <p> + When Rowdy rode apathetically up to the stable, Pink came out of the + bunk-house to meet him, big with news. “Oh, doctor! We're up against it + a-plenty now,” he greeted, with his dimples at their deepest. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted Rowdy crossly. “What's hurting you, Pink?” + </p> + <p> + “Forecasting the future,” Pink retorted. “Eagle Creek has come alive, and + has wised up sudden to the fact that this ain't going t' be any Noah's + flood brand uh summer, and that his cattle look like the tailings of a + wash-board factory. He's got busy—and we're sure going to. We're due + t' hit the grit out uh here in the first beams uh rosy morn, and do a + record stunt at gathering cattle.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we were going to, anyhow,” Rowdy cut in. + </p> + <p> + “But that's only the prelude, old-timer. We've got t' take 'em across + country to the Belknap reservation. Eagle Creek went t' town and + telegraphed, and got the refusal of it for pasturage; he ain't so slow, + oncet he gets started. But if you've ever rode over them dried-up benches, + you savvy the merry party we'll be when we git there. I've saw + jack-rabbits packing their lunch along over there.” + </p> + <p> + “Belknap”—Rowdy dropped his saddle spitefully to the ground—“is + where our friend Conroy has just gone to fill a splendid position.” + </p> + <p> + Pink thoughtfully blew the ashes from his cigarette. “Harry Conroy would + fill one position fine. So one uh these days I'll offer it to him. I don't + know anybody that'd look nicer in a coffin than that jasper—and if + he's gone t' Belknap, that's likely the position he'll fill, all right.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy said nothing, but his very silence told Pink much. + </p> + <p> + “How'd yuh make out with Jessie?” Pink asked frankly, though he was not + supposed to know where Rowdy had been. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy knew from experience that it was useless trying to keep anything + from Pink that Pink wanted to know; besides, there was a certain comfort + in telling his troubles to so stanch a friend. “Harry got his work in + there, too,” he said bitterly. “He beat me to her and queered me for good, + by the looks.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” said Pink. “I wouldn't waste much time worrying over her, if she's + that easy turned.” + </p> + <p> + “She's all right,” defended Rowdy quickly. “I don't know as I blame her; + she takes the stand any sister would take. She wants to know all about the + trouble—hear both sides, she said, so she could judge which was to + blame. I guess she's got her heart set on being peacemaker. I know one + thing: she—likes me, all right.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see how he queered yuh any, then,” puzzled Pink. “She sure + couldn't take his part after you'd told her all he done.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy turned on him savagely. “You little fool, do you think I told her? + Right there's the trouble. He told his story; and when she asked for mine, + I couldn't say anything. She's his sister.” + </p> + <p> + “You—didn't—tell!” Pink leaned against the stable and stared. + “Rowdy Vaughan, there's times when even your friend can't disguise the + fact that yuh act plumb batty. Yuh let Harry do yuh dirt that any other + man'd 'a' killed him on bare suspicion uh doing; and yuh never told her + when she asked yuh to! How yuh lent him money, and let him steal some + right out uh your pocket—” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't prove that,” Rowdy objected. + </p> + <p> + “And yuh never told her about his cutting your latigo—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, cut it out!” Rowdy glowered down at him. “I guess I don't need to be + reminded of all those things. But are they the things a man can tell a + girl about her brother? Pink, you're about as unfeeling a little devil as + I ever run across. Maybe you'd have told her; but I couldn't. So it's all + off.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away and stared unseeingly at the rim of hills that hid the + place where she lived. She seemed very far away from him just then—and + very, very desirable. He thought then that he had never before realized + just how much he cared. + </p> + <p> + “You can jest bet I'd 'a' told her!” gritted Pink, watching furtively + Rowdy's averted face. “She ain't goin' t' be bowed down by no load of + ignorance much longer, either. If she don't get Harry Conroy's pedigree + straight out, without the varnish, it'll be because I ain't next to all + his past.” + </p> + <p> + But Rowdy, glooming among the debris of certain pet air-castles, neither + heard nor wanted to hear Pink's wrathful mutterings. As a matter of fact, + it was not till Pink clattered out of the yard on Mascot that he + remembered where he was. Even then it did not occur to him to wonder where + Pink was going. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 9. Moving the Herd. + </h2> + <p> + Four thousand weary cattle crawled up the long ridge which divides Chin + Coulee from Quitter Creek. Pink, riding point, opposite the Silent One, + twisted round in his saddle and looked back at the slow-moving river of + horns and backs veiled in a gray dust-cloud. Down the line at intervals + rode the others, humped listlessly in their saddles, their hat brims + pulled low over tired eyes that smarted with dust and wind and burning + heat. + </p> + <p> + Pink sighed, and wished lonesomely that it was Rowdy riding point with + him, instead of the Silent One, who grew even more silent as the day + dragged leadenly to mid-afternoon; Pink could endure anything better than + being left to his thoughts and to the complaining herd for company. + </p> + <p> + He took off his hat, pushed back his curls—dripping wet they were + and flattened unbecomingly in pasty, yellow rings on his forehead—and + eyed with disfavor a line-backed, dry cow, with one horn tipped rakishly + toward her speckled nose; she blinked silently at wind and heat, and + forged steadily ahead, up-hill and down coulee, always in the lead, always + walking, walking, like an automaton. Her energy, in the face of all the + dry, dreary days, rasped Pink's nerves unbearably. For nearly a week he + had ridden left point, and always that line-backed cow with the + down-crumpled horn walked and walked and walked, a length ahead of her + most intrepid followers. + </p> + <p> + He leaned from his saddle, picked up a rock from the barren, yellow + hillside, and threw it at the cow spitefully. The rock bounced off her + lean rump; she blinked and broke into a shuffling trot, her dragging hoofs + kicking up an extra amount of dust, which blew straight into Pink's face. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, cut it out!” he shouted petulantly. “You're sure the limit, without + doing any stunts at sprinting up-hill. Ain't yuh got any nerves, yuh + blamed old skate? Yuh act like it was milkin'-time, and yuh was headed + straight for the bars and a bran mash. Can't yuh realize the kind uh deal + you're up against? Here's cattle that's got you skinned for looks, old + girl, and they know it's coming blamed tough; and you just bat your eyes + and peg along like yuh enjoyed it. Bawl, or something, can't yuh? Drop + back a foot and act human!” + </p> + <p> + The Silent One looked across at him with a tired smile. “Let her go, Pink, + and pray for more like her,” he called amusedly. “There'll be enough of + them dropping back presently.” + </p> + <p> + Pink threw one leg over the horn and rode sidewise, made him a cigarette, + and tried to forget the cow—or, at least, to forgive her for not + acting as dog-tired as he felt. + </p> + <p> + They were on the very peak of the ridge now, and the hill sloped smoothly + down before them to the bluff which bounded Quitter Creek. Far down, a + tiny black speck in the coulee-bottom, they could see Wooden Shoes riding + along the creek-bank, scouting for water. From the way he rode, and from + the fact that camp was nowhere in sight, Pink guessed shrewdly that his + quest was in vain. He shrugged his shoulders at what that meant, and gave + his attention to the herd. + </p> + <p> + The marching line split at the brow of the bluff. The line-backed cow + lowered her head a bit and went unfaltering down the parched, + gravel-coated hill, followed by a few hundred of the freshest. Then the + stream stopped flowing, and Pink and the Silent One rode back up the bluff + to where the bulk of the footsore herd, their senses dulled by hunger and + weariness and choking thirst, sniffed at the gravel that promised agony to + their bruised feet, and balked at the ordeal. Others straggled up, bunched + against the rebels, and stood stolidly where they were. + </p> + <p> + Pink galloped on down the crawling line. “Forward, the Standard Oil + Brigade!” he yelled whimsically as he went. + </p> + <p> + The cowboys heard—and understood. They left their places and went + forward at a lope, and Pink rode back to the coulee edge, untying his + slicker as he went. The Silent One was already off his horse and shouting + hoarsely as he whacked with his slicker at the sulky mass. Pink rode in + and did the same. It was not the first time this thing had happened, and + from a diversion it was verging closely on the monotonous. Presently, even + a rank tenderfoot must have caught the significance of Pink's military + expression. The Standard Oil Brigade was at the front in force. + </p> + <p> + Cowboys, swinging five-gallon oil-cans, picked up from scattered sheep + camps and carried many a weary mile for just such an emergency, were + charging the bunch intrepidly. Others made shift with flat sirup-cans with + pebbles inside. A few, like Pink and the Silent One, flapped their + slickers till their arms ached. Anything, everything that would make a din + and startle the cattle out of their lethargy, was pressed into service. + </p> + <p> + But they might have been raised in a barnyard and fed cabbage leaves from + back door-steps, for all the excitement they showed. Cattle that three + months ago—or a month—would run, head and tail high in air, at + sight of a man on foot, backed away from a rattling, banging cube of + gleaming tin, turned and faced the thing dull-eyed and apathetic. + </p> + <p> + In time, however, they gave way dogedly before the onslaught. A few were + forced shrinkingly down the hill; others followed gingerly, until the line + lengthened and flowed, a sluggish, brown-red stream, into the coulee and + across to Quitter Creek. + </p> + <p> + Here the leaders were browsing greedily along the banks. They had emptied + the few holes that had still held a meager store of brackish water and so + the mutinous bulk of the herd snuffed at the trampled, muddy spots and + bellowed their disappointment. + </p> + <p> + Wooden Shoes rode up and surveyed the half maddened animals gloomily. + “Push 'em on, boys,” he said. “They's nothings for 'em here. I've sent the + wagons on to Red Willow; we'll try that next. Push 'em along all yuh can, + while I go on ahead and see.” + </p> + <p> + With tin-cans, slickers, and much vituperation, they forced the herd up + the coulee side and strung them out again on trail. The line-backed cow + walked and walked in the lead before Pink's querulous gaze, and the others + plodded listlessly after. The gray dust-cloud formed anew over their + slowmoving backs, and the cowboys humped over in their saddles and rode + and rode, with the hot sun beating aslant in their dirt-grimed faces, and + with the wind blowing and blowing. + </p> + <p> + If this had been the first herd to make that dreary trip, things would not + have been quite so disheartening. But it was the third. Seven thousand + lean kine had passed that way before them, eating the scant grass growth + and drinking what water they could find among those barren, sun-baked + coulees. + </p> + <p> + The Cross L boys, on this third trip, were become a jaded lot of + hollow-eyed men, whose nerves were rasped raw with long hours and longer + days in the saddle. Pink's cheeks no longer made his name appropriate, and + he was not the only one who grew fretful over small things. Rowdy had been + heard, more than once lately, to anathematize viciously the prairie-dogs + for standing on their tails and chipchip-chipping at them as they went by. + And though the Silent One did not swear, he carried rocks in his pockets, + and threw them with venomous precision at every “dog” that showed his + impertinent nose out of a burrow within range. For Pink, he vented his + spleen on the line-backed cow. + </p> + <p> + So they walked and walked and walked. + </p> + <p> + The cattle balked at another hill, and all the tincans and slickers in the + crowd could scarcely move them. The wind dropped with the sun, and the + clouds glowed gorgeously above them, getting scant notice, except that + they told eloquently of the coming night; and there were yet miles—long, + rough, heartbreaking miles—to put behind them before they could hope + for the things their tired bodies craved: supper and dreamless sleep. + </p> + <p> + When the last of the herd had sidled, under protest, down the long hill to + the flat, dusk was pushing the horizon closer upon them, mile by mile. + When they crawled sinuously out upon the welcome level, the hill loomed + ghostly and black behind them. A mile out, Wooden Shoes rode out of the + gloom and met the point. He turned and rode beside Pink. + </p> + <p> + “Yuh'll have t' swing 'em north,” he greeted. + </p> + <p> + “Red Willow's dry as hell—all but in the Rockin' R field. No use + askin' ole Mullen to let us in there; we'll just go. I sent the wagons + through the fence, an' yuh'll find camp about a mile up from the mouth uh + the big coulee. You swing 'em round the end uh this bench, an' hit that + big coulee at the head. When you come t' the fence, tear it down. They's + awful good grass in that field!” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Pink cheerfully. It was in open defiance of range + etiquette; but their need was desperate. The only thing about it Pink did + not like was the long detour they must make. He called the news across to + the Silent One, after Wooden Shoes had gone on down the line, and they + swung the point gradually to the left. + </p> + <p> + Before that drive was over, Pink had vowed many times to leave the range + forever and never to turn another cow—besides a good many other + foolish things which would be forgotten, once he had a good sleep. And + Rowdy, plodding half-way down the herd, had grown exceedingly pessimistic + regarding Jessie Conroy, and decided that there was no sense in thinking + about her all the time, the way he had been doing. Also, he told himself + savagely that if Harry ever crossed his trail again, there would be + something doing. This thing of letting a cur like that run roughshod over + a man on account of a girl that didn't care was plumb idiotic. And beside + him the cattle walked and walked and walked, a dim, moving mass in the + quiet July night. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 10. Harry Conroy at Home. + </h2> + <p> + It was late next morning when they got under way; for they had not reached + camp until long after midnight, and Wooden Shoes was determined the cattle + should have one good feed, and all the water they wanted, to requite them + for the hard drive of the day before. + </p> + <p> + Pink rode out with Rowdy to the herd—a heavylidded, gloomy Rowdy he + was, and not amiably inclined toward the small talk of the range. But Pink + had slept five whole hours and was almost his normal self; which means + that speech was not to be denied him. + </p> + <p> + “What yuh mourning over?” he bantered. “Mad 'cause the reservation's so + close?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” assented Rowdy, with deep sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I thought. Studying up the nicest way uh giving + brother-in-law the glad hand, ain't yuh?” + </p> + <p> + “He's no relation uh mine—and never will be,” said Rowdy curtly. + “And I'll thank you, Pink, to drop that subject for good and all.” + </p> + <p> + “Down she goes,” assented Pink, quite unperturbed. “But the cards ain't + all turned yet, yuh want to remember, I wouldn't pass on no hand like + you've got. If I wanted a girl right bad, Rowdy, I'd wait till I got + refused before I'd quit.” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me you've changed your politics lately,” Rowdy retorted. “A + while back you was cussing the whole business; and now you're worse than + an old maid aunt. Pink, you may not be wise to the fact, but you sure are + an inconsistent little devil.” + </p> + <p> + “Are yuh going t' hunt Harry up and—” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I told you to drop that.” + </p> + <p> + “Did yuh? All right, then—only I hope yuh didn't leave your gun + packed away in your bed,” he insinuated. + </p> + <p> + “You can take a look to-night, if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + Pink laughed in a particularly infectious way he had, and, before he quite + knew it, Rowdy was laughing, also. After that the world did not look quite + so forlorn as it had, nor the day's work so distasteful. So Pink, having + accomplished his purpose, was content to turn the subject. + </p> + <p> + “There's old Liney”—he pointed her out to Rowdy—“fresh as a + meadow-lark. I had a big grouch against her yesterday, just because she + batted her eyes and kept putting one foot ahead uh the other. I could 'a' + killed her. But she's all right, that old girl. The way she led out down + that black coulee last night wasn't slow! Say, she's an ambitious old + party. I wish you was riding point with me, Rowdy. The Silent One talks + just about as much as that old cow. He sure loves to live up to his rep.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go on to work,” Rowdy admonished. “You make me think of a magpie.” + All the same, he looked after him with smiling lips, and eyes that forgot + their gloom. He even whistled while he helped round up the scattered herd, + ready for that last day's drive. + </p> + <p> + Every man in the outfit comforted himself with the thought that it was the + last day's drive. After long weeks of trailing lean herds over barren, + windbrushed hills, the last day meant much to them. Even the Silent One + sang something they had never heard before, about “If Only I Knew You Were + True.” + </p> + <p> + They crossed the Rocking R field, took down four panels of fence, passed + out, and carefully put them up again behind them. Before them stretched + level plain for two miles; beyond that a high, rocky ridge that promised + some trouble with the herd, and after that more plain and a couleee or + two, and then, on a far slope—the reservation. + </p> + <p> + The cattle were rested and fed, and walked out briskly; the ridge neared + perceptibly. Pink's shrill whistle carried far back down the line and + mingled pleasantly with voices calling to one another across the herd. Not + a man was humped listlessly in his saddle; instead, they rode with + shoulders back and hats at divers jaunty angles to keep the sun from + shining in eyes that faced the future cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + The herd steadily climbed the ridge, choosing the smoothest path and the + easiest slope. Pink assured the line-backed cow that she was a peach, and + told her to “go to it, old girl.” The Silent One's pockets were quite + empty of rocks, and the prairiedogs chipped and flirted their funny little + tails unassailed. And Rowdy, from wondering what had made Pink change his + attitude so abruptly, began to plan industriously the next meeting with + Jessie Conroy, and to build a new castle that was higher and airier than + any he had ever before attempted—and perhaps had a more flimsy + foundation; for it rested precariously on Pink's idle remarks. + </p> + <p> + The point gained the top of the ridge, and Pink turned and swung his hat + jubilantly at the others. The reservation was in sight, though it lay + several miles distant. But in that clear air one could distinguish the + line fence—if one had the eye of faith and knew just where to look. + Presently he observed a familiar horseman climbing the ridge to meet them. + </p> + <p> + “Eagle Creek's coming,” he shouted to the man behind. “Come alive, there, + and don't let 'em roam all over the map. Git some style on yuh!” + </p> + <p> + Those who heard laughed; no one ever dreamed of being offended at what + Pink said. Those who had not heard had the news passed on to them, in + various forms. Wooden Shoes, who had been loitering in the rear gossiping + with the men, rode on to meet Smith. + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek urged his horse up the last steep place, right in the face of + the leaders, which halted and tried to turn back. Pink, swearing in a + whisper, began to force them forward. + </p> + <p> + “Let 'em alone,” Eagle Creek bellowed harshly. “They ain't goin' no + farther.” + </p> + <p> + “W-what?” Pink stopped short and eyed him critically. Eagle Creek could + not justly be called a teetotaler; but Pink had never known him to get + worse than a bit wobbly in his legs; his mind had never fogged + perceptibly. Still, something was wrong with him, that was certain. Pink + glanced dubiously across at the Silent One and saw him shrug his shoulders + expressively. + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek rode up and stopped within ten feet of the line-backed cow; + she seemed hurt at being held up in this manner, Pink thought. + </p> + <p> + “Yuh'll have t' turn this herd back,” Eagle Creek announced bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” Pink asked, too stunned to take in the meaning of it. + </p> + <p> + “T' hell, I guess. It's the only place I know of where everybody's + welcome.” Eagle Creek's tone was not pleasant. + </p> + <p> + “We just came from there,” Pink said simply, thinking of the horrors of + that drive. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Wooden Shoes?” snapped the old man; and the foreman's hat-crown + appeared at that instant over the ridge. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we're up against it,” Eagle Creek greeted. “That damn' agent—or + the fellow he had workin' for him—reported his renting us pasture. + Made the report read about twice as many as we're puttin' on. He's got + orders now t' turn out every hoof but what b'longs there.” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord!” Wooden Shoes gasped at the catastrophe which faced the Cross L. + </p> + <p> + “That's Harry Conroy's work,” Pink cut in sharply' “He'd hurt the Cross L + if he could, t' spite me and Rowdy. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't matter—seein' it's done. Yuh might as well turn the herd + loose right here, an' let 'em go t' the devil. I don't know what else t' + do with 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything gone wrong?” It was Rowdy, who had left his place and ridden + forward to see what was holding the herd back. + </p> + <p> + “Naw. We're fired off the reservation, is all. We got orders to take the + herd to hell. Eagle Creek's leased it. Mr. Satan is going to keep house + here in Montana; he says it's better for his trade,” Pink informed him, in + his girlish treble. + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek turned on him fiercely, then thought better of it and grinned. + “Them arrangements wouldn't make us any worse off'n what we are,” he + commented. “Turn 'em loose, boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, if yuh turn 'em loose here, the first storm that hits 'em, they all + die,” Wooden Shoes interposed excitedly. “They ain't nothings for 'em. We + had t' turn 'em into the Rockin' R field last night, t' git water an' + feed. Red Willow's gone dry outside dat field. They ain't—nothings. + They'll die!” + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek looked at him dully. For the first time in his life he faced + utter ruin. “Damn 'em, let 'em die, then!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That's what they'll sure do,” Wooden Shoes reiterated stubbornly. “If + they don't git feed and water now, yuh needn't start no round-up next + spring.” + </p> + <p> + Pink's eyes went down over the close-huddled backs and the thicket of + polished horns, and his eyelids stung. Would all of them die, he wondered! + Four thousand! He hoped not. There must be some way out. Down the hill, he + knew the cowboys were making cigarettes while they waited and wondered + mightily what it was all about If they only knew, he thought, there would + be more than one rope ready for Harry Conroy. + </p> + <p> + “How about the Peck reservation? Couldn't you get them on there?” Rowdy + ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Not a hoof!” growled Eagle Creek, with his chin sunk against his chest. + “There's thirty thousand Valley County cattle on there now.” He looked + down at the cattle, as Pink had done. “God! It's bad enough t' go broke,” + he groaned; “but t' think uh them poor brutes dyin' off in bunches, for + want uh grass an' water! I've run that brand fer over thirty year.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 11. Rowdy Promoted. + </h2> + <p> + Rowdy rode closer. “If you don't mind paying duty,” he began tentatively, + “I can put you next to a range over the line, where I'll guarantee feed + and water the year round for every hoof you own.” + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek lifted his head and looked at him “Whereabouts?” he demanded + skeptically. + </p> + <p> + “Up in the Red Deer country. Pink knows the place. There's range a-plenty, + and creeks running through that never go dry; and the country isn't + stocked and fenced to death, like this is.” + </p> + <p> + “And would we be ordered off soon as we got there?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure not—if you paid duty, which would only be about double what + you were going to pay for one year's pasture.” + </p> + <p> + Eagle Creek breathed deeply, like a man who has narrowly escaped + suffocation. “Young man, I b'lieve you're a square dealer, and that yuh + savvy the cow business. I've thought it ever since yuh started t' work.” + His keen old eyes twinkled at the memory of Rowdy's arrival, and Rowdy + grinned. “I take yuh at your word, and yuh can consider yourself in charge + uh this herd as it stands. Take it t' that cow heaven yuh tell about—and + damn it, yuh won't be none the worse for it!” + </p> + <p> + “We'll pass that up,” said Rowdy quietly. “I'll take the herd through, + though; and I'd advise you to get the rest on the road as soon as they can + be gathered. It's a three-hundred-mile drive.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. From now on it's up to you,” Eagle Creek told him briskly. + “Take 'em back t' the Rockin' R field, and I'll send the wagons back t' + you. Old Mullen'll likely make a roar—but that's most all gove'ment + land he's got fenced, so I guess I can calm him down. Will yuh go near the + ranch?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” said Rowdy. “It will be the shortest way.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll give yuh some blank checks, an' you can load up with grub and + anything else yuh need. I'll be over there by the time you are, and fix up + that duty business. Wooden Shoes'll have t' get another outfit together, + and get another bunch on the trail. One good thing—I got thirty days + t' get off what cattle is on there; and thirty days uh grass and water'll + put 'em in good shape for the trip. Wish this bunch was as well fixed.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what,” Rowdy assented. “But I think they'll make it, all right.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll likely want yuh to stay up there and keep cases on 'em. Any + objections?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure not!” laughed Rowdy. “Only I'll want Pink and the Silent One to stay + with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep what men yuh want. Anything else?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think of anything,” said Rowdy. “Only I'd like to have a—talk—with + Conroy.” Creek eyed him sharply. “Yuh won't be apt t' meet him. Old Bill + Brown, up home, would like to see him, too. Bill's a perseverin' old cuss, + and wants to see Conroy so bad he's got the sheriff out lookin' for him. + It's about a bunch uh horses that was run off, three years ago. Yuh + brought one of 'em back into the country last spring, yuh mind.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy and Pink looked at one another, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Old Bill, he follered your back trail and found out some things he wanted + t' know. Conroy got wind of it, though, and he left the agency kind-a + suddint. No use yuh lookin' for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we're ready to hit the grit, I guess.” Rowdy glanced again at Pink + who nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain't stoppin' yuh,” Eagle Creek drawled laconically. “S'-long, + and good luck t' yuh.” + </p> + <p> + He waited while Pink and the Silent One swung the point back down the + hill, with Rowdy helping them, quite unmoved by his sudden promotion. When + the herd was fairly started on the backward march, Eagle Creek nodded + satisfaction the while he pried off a corner of plug-tobacco. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” he asserted emphatically. “That boy suits me, from the + ground up. If he don't put that deal through in good shape, it'll be + becaus' it can't be did.” + </p> + <p> + Wooden Shoes, with whom Rowdy had always been a prime favorite, agreed + with Dutch heartiness. Then, leaving the herd to its new guardian they + rode swiftly to overtake and turn back the wagons. + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred miles! And part of it across howling desert!” Rowdy drew + his brows together. “It's a big thing for me, all right, Pink; but it's + sure a big contract to take this herd through, if anybody should happen to + ask yuh.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, buck up! You'll make good, all right—if only these creeks + wasn't so bone dry!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's water enough in the Rocking R field for to-day; we'll throw + 'em in there till tomorrow. And I've a notion I can find a better trail + across to North Fork than the way we came. I'm going to strike out this + afternoon and see, anyway, if Quitter Creek hasn't got water farther up. + Once we get up north uh the home ranch, I can see my way clear.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to it, boss,” Pink cried heartily. “I don't see how I'm goin t' keep + from sassing yuh, once in a while, though. That's what bothers me. What'll + happen if I turn loose on yuh, some time?” + </p> + <p> + “You'll get fired, I expect,” laughed Rowdy, and rode off to announce the + news to the rest of the outfit, who were very unhappy in their + mystification. + </p> + <p> + If their reception of the change of plans and foreman was a bit profane, + and their manner toward him a bit familiar, Rowdy didn't mind. He knew + that they did not grudge him his good luck, even while they hated the long + drive. He also knew that they watched him furtively; for nothing—not + even misfortune—is as sure a test of a man's character as success. + They liked Rowdy, and they did not believe this would spoil him; still, + every man of them was secretly a bit anxious. + </p> + <p> + On the trail, he rode in his accustomed place, and, so far as appearances + went, the party had no foreman. He went forward and helped Pink take down + the fence that had been so carefully put up a few hours before, and he + whistled while he put it in place again, just as if he had no + responsibility in the world. Then the cattle were left to themselves, and + the men rode down to their old campground, marked by empty tin-cans and a + trodden place where had been the horse corral. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy swung down and faced the men gravely. Instinctively they stood at + attention, waiting for what he had to say; they felt that the situation + was so far out of the ordinary that a few remarks pertaining to their new + relations would not be out of place. + </p> + <p> + He looked them over appraisingly, and met glances as grave as his own. + Straight, capable fellows they were, every man of them. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” he began impressively, “you all know that from to-day on you're + working under my orders. I never was boss of anything but the cayuse I + happened to have under me, and I'm going to extract all the honey there is + in the situation. Maybe I'll never be boss again—but at present I'm + it. I want you fellows to remember that important fact, and treat me with + proper respect. From now on you can call me Mr. Vaughan; 'Rowdy' doesn't + go, except on a legal holiday. + </p> + <p> + “Furthermore, I'm not going to get out at daylight and catch up my own + horse; I'll let yuh take turns being flunky, and I'll expect yuh to saddle + my horse every morning and noon, and bring him to the cook-tent—and + hold my stirrup for me. Also, you are expected, at all times and places, + to anticipate my wants and fall over yourselves waiting on me. You're just + common, ordinary, forty-dollar cow-punchers, and if I treat yuh white, + it's because I pity yuh for not being up where I am. Remember, vassals, + that I'm your superior, mentally, morally, socially—” + </p> + <p> + “Chap him!” yelled Pink, and made for him “I'll stand for a lot, but don't + yuh ever think I'm a vassal!” + </p> + <p> + “Mutiny is strictly prohibited!” he thundered. “Villains, beware! Gadzooks—er—let's + have a swim before the wagons come!” + </p> + <p> + They laughed and made for the creek, feeling rather crestfallen and a bit + puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “If I had an outfit like this to run, and a three hundred-mile drive to + make,” Bob Nevin remarked to the Silent One, “blessed if I'd make a josh + of it! I'd cultivate the corrugated brow and the stiff spine—me!” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” the Silent One responded, “don't be too hasty in your + judgment. It's because the corrugated brow will come later that he laughs + now. You'll presently find yourself accomplishing the impossible in + obedience to the flicker of Rowdy Vaughan's eyelids. Man, did you never + observe the set of his head, and the look of his eye? Rowdy Vaughan will + get more out of this crowd than any man ever did; and if he fails, he'll + fail with the band playing 'Hot Time.'” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so,” Bob admitted, not quite convinced; “but I wonder if he + realizes what he's up against.” At which the Silent One only smiled + queerly as he splashed into the water. + </p> + <p> + After dinner Rowdy caught up the blue roan, which was his favorite for a + hard ride—he seemed to have forgotten his speech concerning + “flunkies”—and rode away up the coulee which had brought them into + the field the night before. The boys watched him go, speculated a lot, and + went to sleep as the best way of putting in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Pink, who knew quite well what was in Rowdy's mind, said nothing at all; + it is possible that he was several degrees more jealous of the dignity of + Rowdy's position than was Rowdy himself, who had no time to think of + anything but the best way of getting the herd to Canada. He would like to + have gone along, only that Rowdy did not ask him to. Pink assured himself + that it was best for Rowdy not to start playing any favorites, and curled + down in the bed-tent with the others and went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + It was late that night when Rowdy crept silently into his corner of the + tent; but Pink was awake, and whispered to know if he found water. Rowdy's + “Yes” was a mere breath, but it was enough. + </p> + <p> + At sunrise the herd trailed up the Rocking R coulee, and Pink and the + Silent One pointed them north of the old trail. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 12. “You Can Tell Jessie.” + </h2> + <p> + In the days that followed Rowdy was much alone. There was water to hunt, + far ahead of the herd, together with the most practicable way of reaching + it. He did not take the shortest way across that arid country and leave + the next day's camping-place to chance—as Wooden Shoes had done. He + felt that there was too much at stake, and the cattle were too thin for + any more dry drives; long drives there were, but such was his generalship + that there was always water at the end. + </p> + <p> + He rode miles and miles that he might have shirked, and he never slept + until the next day's move, at least, was clearly defined in his mind and + he felt sure that he could do no better by going another route. + </p> + <p> + These lonely rides gave him over to the clutch of thoughts he had never + before harbored in his sunny nature. Grim, ugly thoughts they were, and + not nice to remember afterward. They swung persistently around a central + subject, as the earth revolves around the sun; and, like the earth, they + turned and turned on the axis of his love for a woman. + </p> + <p> + In particularly ugly moods he thought that if Harry Conroy were caught and + convicted of horsestealing, Jessie must perforce admit his guilt and + general unworthiness—Rowdy called it general cussedness—and + Rowdy be vindicated in her eyes. Then she would marry him, and go with him + to the Red Deer country and—air-castles for miles! When he awoke to + the argument again, he would tell himself savagely that if he could, by + any means, bring about Conroy's speedy conviction, he would do so. + </p> + <p> + This was unlike Rowdy, whose generous charity toward his enemies came near + being a fault. He might feel any amount of resentment for wrong done, but + cold-blooded revenge was not in him; that he had suffered so much at + Conroy's hands was due largely to the fact that Conroy was astute enough + to read Rowdy aright, and unscrupulous enough to take advantage. Add to + that a smallminded jealousy of Rowdy's popularity and horsemanship, one + can easily imagine him doing some rather nasty things. Perhaps the + meanest, and the one which rankled most in Rowdy's memory, was the cutting + of Rowdy's latigo just before a riding contest, in which the purse and the + glory of a championship-belt seemed in danger of going to Rowdy. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy had got a fall that crippled him for weeks, and Harry had won the + purse and belt—and the enmity of several men better than he. For + though morally sure of his guilt, no one could prove that he had cut the + strap, and so he got off unpunished, except that Pink thrashed him—a + bit unscientifically, it is true, since he resorted to throwing rocks + toward the last, but with a thoroughness worthy even of Pink. + </p> + <p> + But in moods less ugly he shrank from the hurt that must be Jessie's if + she should discover the truth. Jessie's brother a convicted thief serving + his sentence in Deer Lodge! The thought was horrible; it was brutal + cruelty. If he could only know where to look for that lad, he'd help him + out of the country. It was no good shutting him up in jail; that wouldn't + help him any, or make him better. He hoped he would get off—go + somewhere, where they couldn't find him, and stay there. + </p> + <p> + He wondered where he was, and if he had money enough to see him through. + He might be no good—he sure wasn't!—but he was Jessie's + brother, and Jessie believed in him and thought a lot of him. It would be + hard lines for that little girl if Harry were caught. Bill Brown, the + meddlesome old freak!—he didn't blame Jessie for not wanting to stop + there that night. She did just the right thing. + </p> + <p> + With all this going round and round, monotonously persistent in his brain, + and with the care of four thousand lean kine and more than a hundred + saddle-horses—to say nothing of a dozen overworked, fretful + cow-punchers—Rowdy acquired the “corrugated brow” fast enough + without any cultivation. + </p> + <p> + The men were as the Silent One had predicted. They made drives that lasted + far into the night, stood guard, and got along with so little sleep that + it was scarce worth mention, and did many things that shaved close the + impossible—just because Rowdy looked at them straightly, with + half-closed lids, and asked them if they thought they could. + </p> + <p> + Pink began to speak of their new foreman as “Moses”; and when the curious + asked him why, told them soberly that Rowdy could “hit a rock with his + quirt and start a creek running bank full.” When Rowdy heard that, he + thought of the miles of weary searching, and wished that it were true. + </p> + <p> + They had left the home ranch a day's drive behind them, and were going + north. Rowdy had denied himself the luxury of riding over to see Jessie, + and he was repenting the sacrifice in deep gloom and sincerity, when two + men rode into camp and dismounted, as if they had a right. The taller one—with + brawn and brain a-plenty, by the look of him—announced that he was + the sheriff, and would like to stop overnight. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy gave him welcome half-heartedly, and questioned him craftily. A + sheriff is not a detective, and does not mind giving harmless information; + so Rowdy learned that they had traced Conroy thus far, and believed that + he was ahead of them and making for Canada. He had dodged them cleverly + two or three times, but now they had reason to believe that he was not + more than half a day's ride before them. They wanted to know if the outfit + had seen any one that day, or sign of any one having passed that way. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I bet it was Harry Conroy driving that little bunch uh horses up the + creek, just as we come over the ridge,” spoke Pink eagerly. + </p> + <p> + Rowdy could have choked him. “He wouldn't be driving a lot of horses,” he + interposed quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he might,” argued Pink. “If I was making a quick get-away, and my + horse was about played out—like his was apt t' be—I'd sure + round up the first bunch I seen, and catch me a fresh one—if I was a + horse-thief. I'll bet yuh—” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff had put down his cup of coffee. “Is there any place where a + man could corral a bunch on the quiet?” he asked crisply. It was evident + that Pink's theory had impressed him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there is. There's an old corral up at the ford—Drowning Ford, + they call it—that I'd use, if it was me. It was an old line camp, + and there's a cabin. It's down on the flat by the creek, and it's as + God-forsaken a place as a man'd want t' hide in, or t' change mounts.” + Pink hitched up his chapbelt and looked across at Rowdy. He was aching for + a sight of Harry Conroy in handcuffs, and he was certain that Rowdy felt + the same. “If it was me,” he added speculatively, “and I thought I was far + enough in the lead, I'd stop there till morning.” + </p> + <p> + “How far is it from here?” demanded the sheriff, standing up. + </p> + <p> + Pink told him he guessed it was five miles. Whereupon the sheriff + announced his intention of going up there at once, and Pink hinted rather + strongly that he would like to go with them. The sheriff did not know + Pink; he looked down at his slimness and at the yellow fringe of curls + showing under his hat brim, at his pink cheeks and dimples and girlish + hands, and threw back his head in a loud ha! ha! + </p> + <p> + Pink asked him politely, but rather stiffly, what there was funny about + it. The sheriff laughed louder and longer; then, being the sort of man who + likes a joke now and then, even in the way of business, he solemnly + deputized Pink, and patted him on the shoulder and told him gravely that + they couldn't possibly do without him. + </p> + <p> + It looked for a minute as if Pink were going at him with his fists—but + he didn't. He reflected that one must not offer violence to an officer of + the law, and that, being made a deputy, he would have to go, anyway; so he + gritted his teeth and buckled on his gun, and went along sulkily. + </p> + <p> + They rode silently, for the most part, and swiftly. + </p> + <p> + Even in the dusk they could see where a band of horses had been driven at + a gallop along the creek bank. When they neared the place it was dark. + Pink pulled up and spoke for the first time since leaving the tent. + </p> + <p> + “We better tie up our horses here and walk,” he said, quite unconscious of + the fact that he was usurping the leadership, and thinking only of their + quest. + </p> + <p> + But the sheriff was old at the business, and not too jealous of his + position. He signed to his deputy proper, and they dismounted. + </p> + <p> + When they started on, Pink was ahead. The sheriff observed that Pink's gun + still swung in its scabbard at his hip, and he grinned—but that was + because he didn't know Pink. That the gun swung at his hip would have been + quite enough for any one who did know him; it didn't take Pink all day to + get into action. + </p> + <p> + Ten rods from the corral, which they could distinguish as a black blotch + in the sparse willow growth, Pink turned and stopped them. “I know the + layout here,” he whispered. “I'll just sneak ahead and rubber around. You + Rubes sound like the beginning of a stampede, in this brush.” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff had never before been called a Rube—to his face, at + least. The audacity took his breath; and when he opened his mouth for + scathing speech, Pink was not there. He had slipped away, like a slim, + elusive shadow, and the sheriff did not even know the exact direction of + his going. There was nothing for it but to wait. + </p> + <p> + In five minutes Pink appeared with a silent suddenness that startled them + more than they would like to own. + </p> + <p> + “He's somewheres around,” he announced, in a murmur that would not carry + ten feet. “He's got a horse in the corral, and, from the sound, he's got + him all saddled; and the gate's tied shut with a rope.” + </p> + <p> + “How d'yuh know?” grunted the sheriff crossly. + </p> + <p> + “Felt of it, yuh chump. He's turned the bunch loose and kept up a fresh + one, like I said he would. It's blame dark, but I could see the horse—a + big white devil. It's him yuh hear makin' all that racket. If he gits away + now—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we didn't come for a chin-whackin' bee,” snapped the sheriff. “I + come out here t' git him.” + </p> + <p> + Pink gritted his teeth again, and wished the sheriff was just a man, so he + could lick him. He led them forward without a word, thinking that Rowdy + wanted Harry Conroy captured. + </p> + <p> + The sheriff circled warily the corral, peered through the rails at the + great white horse that ran here and there, whinnying occasionally for the + band, and heard the creak of leather and the rattle of the bit. Pink was + right; the horse was saddled, ready for immediate flight. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe he's in the cabin,” he whispered, coming up where Pink stood + listening tensely at all the little night sounds. Pink turned and crept + silently to the right, keeping in the deepest shade, while the others + followed willingly. They were beginning to see the great advantage of + having Pink along, even if he had called them Rubes. + </p> + <p> + The cabin door yawned wide open, and creaked weirdly as the light wind + moved it; the interior was black and silent—suspiciously silent, in + the opinion of the sheriff. He waited for some time before venturing in, + fearing an ambush. Then he caught the flicker of a shielded match, called + out to Conroy to surrender, and leveled his gun at the place. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer but the faint shuffle of stealthy feet on the board + floor. The sheriff called another warning, cocked his gun—and came + near shooting Pink, who walked composedly out of the door into the + sheriff's astonished face. The sheriff had been sure that Pink was just + behind him. + </p> + <p> + “What the hell,” began the sheriff explosively. + </p> + <p> + “He ain't here,” said Pink simply. “I crawled in the window and hunted the + place over.” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff glared at him dumbly; he could not reconcile Pink's daredevil + behavior with Pink's innocent, girlish appearance. + </p> + <p> + “I tell yuh the corral's what we want t' keep cases on,” Pink added + insistently. “He's sure somewheres around—I'd gamble on it. He + saddled that horse t' git away on. That horse is sure the key t' this + situation, old-timer. If you fellows'll keep cases on the gate, I'll cover + the rear.” + </p> + <p> + He made his way quietly to the back of the corral, inwardly much amused at + the tractability of the sheriff, who took his deputy obediently to watch + the gate. + </p> + <p> + Pink squatted comfortably in the shade of a willow and wished he dared + indulge in a cigarette, and wondered what scheme Harry was trying to play. + </p> + <p> + Fifty feet away the big white horse still circled round and round, + rattling his bridle impatiently and shaking the saddle in an occasional + access of rage, and whinnying lonesomely out into the gloom. + </p> + <p> + So they waited and waited, and peered into the shadows, and listened to + the trampling horse fretting for freedom and his mates. + </p> + <p> + The cook had just called breakfast when Pink dashed up to the tent, flung + himself from his horse, and confronted Rowdy—a hollow-eyed, haggard + Rowdy who had not slept all night, and whose eyes questioned anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Rowdy said, with what passed for composure, “did you get him?” + </p> + <p> + Pink leaned against his horse, with one hand reaching up and gripping + tightly the horn of the saddle. His cheeks held not a trace of color, and + his eyes were full of a great horror. + </p> + <p> + “They're bringin' him t' camp,” he answered huskily. “We found a horse—a + big white horse they call the Fern Outlaw”—the Silent One started + and came closer, listening intently; evidently he knew the horse—“saddled + in the corral, and the gate tied shut. We dubbed around a while, but we + didn't find—Harry. So we camped down by the corral and waited. We + set there all night—and the horse faunching around inside something + fierce. When—it come daybreak—I seen something—by the + fence, inside. It was—Harry.” Pink shivered and moistened his dry + lips. “That Fern Outlaw—some uh the boys know—is a devil t' + mount. He'd got Harry down—hell, Rowdy! it—it was sure—awful. + He'd been there all night—and that horse stomping.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” Rowdy turned all at once deathly sick. He had once seen a man + who had been trampled by a maddened, man-killing horse. It had not been a + pretty sight. He sat down weakly and covered his face with his shaking + hands. + </p> + <p> + The others stood around horrified, muttering disjointed, shocked + sentences. + </p> + <p> + Pink lifted his head from where it had fallen upon his arm. “One thing, + Rowdy—I done. You can tell Jessie. I shot that horse.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy dropped his hands and stood up. Yes, he must tell Jessie. + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to take the herd on,” he told Pink in his masterful way. + “I'll catch you to-morrow some time. I've got to go back and tell Jessie. + You know the trail I was going to take—straight across to Wild Horse + Lake. From there you strike across to North Fork—and if I don't + overtake you on the way, I'll hit camp some time in the night. It's all + plain sailing.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER 13. Rowdy Finds Happiness. + </h2> + <p> + Miss Conroy was rather listlessly endeavoring to persuade the First Reader + class that “catch” should not be pronounced “ketch,” when she saw Rowdy + ride past the window. Intuition of something amiss sent her to the door + before he reached it. + </p> + <p> + “Can't you give the kids a day off?” he began, without preface. “I've got + such a lot to talk about—and I don't come very often.” He thought + that his tone was perfectly natural; but all the same she turned white. He + rode on to a little tree and tied his horse—not that it was + necessary to tie him, but to avoid questions. + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy went in and dismissed the children, although it was only + fifteen minutes after nine. They gathered up their lunch-pails and + straggled out reluctantly, round-eyed, and curious. Rowdy waited until the + last one had gone before he went in. Miss Conroy sat in her chair on the + platform, and she was still white; otherwise she seemed to have herself + well in hand. + </p> + <p> + “It's about Harry,” she asserted, rather sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Have they—caught him?” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy stopped half-way down the aisle and stared. “How did you know they + were—after him?” + </p> + <p> + “He came to me night before last, and—told me.” She bit her lip, + took firm hold on her honesty and her courage, and went on steadily. “He + came because he—wanted money. I've wanted to see you since, to tell + you that—I misjudged you. I know all about your—trouble, and I + want you to know that I think you are—that you did quite right. You + are to understand that I cannot honestly uphold—Harry. He is—not + the kind of brother—I thought.” + </p> + <p> + Rowdy went clanking forward till only the table stood between. “Did he + tell you?” he demanded, in a curious, breathless fashion. + </p> + <p> + “No, he did not. He denied everything. It was Pink. He told me long ago—that + evening, just after you—the last time I saw you. I told him he—lied. + I tried not to believe it, but I did. Pink knew I would; he said so. The + other night I asked Harry about—those things he did to you. He lied + to me. I'd have forgiven him—but he lied. I—can't forgive + that. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” Rowdy threw out a gloved hand quickly. He could not bear to let + her go on like that. + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him, and all at once she was shaking. “There's something—tell + me!” + </p> + <p> + “They didn't take him,” he said slowly, weighing each word and looking + down at her pityingly “They never will. He—had an accident. A horse—fell + with him—and—he was dead when they picked him up.” It was as + merciful a version as he could make it, but the words choked him, even + then. “Girlie!” He went around and knelt, with his arms holding her close. + </p> + <p> + After a long while he spoke again, smoothing her hair absently, and never + noticing that he had not taken off his gloves. His gray hat was pushed + aslant as his head rested against hers. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, girlie, it's for the best. We couldn't have saved him from—the + other; and that would have been worse, don't you think? We'll forget all + but the good in him”—he could not help thinking that there would not + be much to remember—“and I'll get a little home ready, and come back + and get you before snow flies—and—you'll be kind of happy, + won't you? + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you haven't heard—but Eagle Creek has made me foreman of his + outfit that's going to Canada. It's a good position. I can make you + comfortable, girlie—and happy. Anyway, I'll try, mighty hard. You'll + be ready for me when I come—won't you, girlie?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Conroy raised her face, all tear-stained, but, with the light of + happiness fighting the sorrow in her eyes, nodded just enough to make the + movement perceptible, and settled her head to a more comfortable + nestling-place on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rowdy of the Cross L, by +B.M. Sinclair, AKA B.M. Bower + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWDY OF THE CROSS L *** + +***** This file should be named 1907-h.htm or 1907-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/1907/ + +Produced by Mary Starr, 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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> |