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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78614 ***
+
+                              COWS IS COWS
+
+                            By W. C. Tuttle
+
+     Author of “Precedents in Piperock,” “Honest to Doughgod,” etc.
+
+
+“They who live by the sword shall perish by the sword,” says he.
+
+“Well,” says Magpie Simpkins, sheriff of Yellow Rock County, picking his
+six-shooter off the table and shoving it into his holster, “if that’s
+the case the mortality uh this here county is going to be uh danged long
+ways below par. Swords ain’t stylish uh tall, and ain’t been for some
+little time. They’re too danged local for good fighting. I prefers old
+man Colt’s products.”
+
+“Just uh figure uh speech, brother,” explains the hairy one. “It means
+that as uh man lives so shall he die. Sabe?”
+
+“Then you’ll sure pass out audible, old trailer,” says Magpie. “Ever
+since you invades my premises you ain’t done nothing but talk, talk,
+talk. Don’t you have nothing to do but orate uplift opinions?”
+
+“It is my mission, brother. I carry the light to dark places, and I have
+been called to this end of the earth to scatter seeds.”
+
+He sure looked like uh sower. He’s danged near as tall as Magpie
+Simpkins, and if anything he’s uh little narrower. He wears uh long
+black coat, and tucks his pantlegs into the tops of his number twelve
+boots, which are uh heap run over at the heels, making him arch at the
+knees. His face is uh cross between Sandy Claws, uh bock-beer sign and
+uh bale uh fox-tail grass. He punctuates his uplift remarks by spitting
+through uh hole in the front of his mouth where uh tooth used to stand.
+He’s wearing uh straw hat, the same uh which was made man-sized, and it
+balances on top of his ears like uh teeter-board.
+
+“Called, eh?” says Magpie. “Well, you sure didn’t get called for much.
+What seems to be your trade, anyway?”
+
+“I’m uh Bringer of Light, brother. Meek and lowly I come----”
+
+“Bringer uh Light, eh?” interrupts Magpie. “Never mind the meek part.
+Me and Ike are both meek and lowly. If yuh got uh good supply uh seeds
+yuh might scatter some where some of our rustling friends would pick
+’em up.”
+
+“Rustling?” pronounces the Bringer uh Light. “Wouldst explain?”
+
+“Wouldst. Uh rustler is uh man who can’t tell another man’s stock from
+his own. It’s uh sort uh brand blindness. Sabe? We’re burdened with
+’em to the extent that three days, hand running, I’ve been accused uh
+negligence and favoritism. Just because I’ve been duly elected sheriff
+uh this commonwealth they opines that all I got to do is to bleed and
+die for my constituents and the glory of the cause. Scenery Sims, Hank
+Padden, Zeb Abernathy and Johnny Myers is the constituents what
+endeavors to shape my ends. Yuh might pack uh little light to them
+four dark places, old-timer.”
+
+“Do they amble in darkness?” he asks, hitting uh knot-hole three times
+straight.
+
+“Blacker than the ace uh spades. What’s your name, anyway?”
+
+The hairy one hunches up his shoulders, like uh buzzard with uh full
+crop, takes another shot at that knot-hole and rubs his long hands
+together.
+
+“I am Obadiah Ezekiel Moses Brown.”
+
+“Pshaw!” says Magpie. “Why didn’t your folks make uh perfect score while
+they had uh chance?”
+
+“Meaning which, brother?”
+
+“They left out Proverbs and Genesis. No wonder you’re uh Gospel pedler,
+Obie. I thought at first that you’re uh shepherd, but no shepherd ever
+had names like----”
+
+“He has came,” announces uh voice at the open door, and there stands
+Scenery Sims.
+
+If I had my choice between the friendship of Scenery Sims and that of an
+old buck sheep, I’d never speak to Scenery again. Scenery orates that
+he’s uh self-made man, that’s about the only thing he can’t blame nobody
+else for.
+
+He stands about knee-high to uh tall Injun, wears woolly chaps which
+comes just below his knees, and has uh voice that would make the E
+string of uh fiddle blush for shame. He owns the Circle-S brand,
+which consists of about uh hundred animiles. They looks uh heap like
+Scenery--sort uh measly looking.
+
+“What has came?” asks Magpie.
+
+“Spade Wilson, the detective,” squeaks Scenery. “Jist got in from
+Helena. Me and Zeb knowed him the minute he rode in. When I says to
+him, ‘Hello, Spade,’ he just grins and says, ‘Don’t advertise it.’”
+
+“Have you seen the Light, brother?” asks Obie, peering at Scenery with
+one eye, while he aims at the knot-hole with the other--and rings the
+bell again.
+
+“My gosh!” whistles Scenery, seeing Obie for the first time. “Is that
+under arrest, Magpie, or can it still be within the law? My gosh
+A’mighty!”
+
+“This here is Mister Brown,” says Magpie. “Mister Sims, meet Mister
+Brown.”
+
+“I gives yuh good cheer, brother,” orates Obie, reaching out uh long
+hand and pumping Scenery’s hand some industrious.
+
+“I’ll take it,” admits Scenery. “How’s all your folks, Mister Brown?”
+
+“Obadiah Ezekiel Moses,” corrects Obie, biting off uh fresh chew. “They
+are all in the Great Beyond from which no man ever returneth back.”
+
+“All three of ’em?” says Scenery. “That’s too danged bad, old-timer. I
+know just how bad yuh feel. I lost twelve more cows myself last night.”
+
+“Don’t weep, Scenery,” advises Magpie, when Scenery finishes off his
+discourse in uh wailing tone. “This here cow detective ’ll get ’em all
+back for you.”
+
+“Still sore, eh?” pipes Scenery. “Doggone it, Magpie, yuh can’t blame
+us, can yuh? Me and Johnny and Zeb and Hank can’t afford to raise cows
+and have ’em swiped all the time. As uh sheriff yuh ain’t so danged
+awful bad, except to look at, but as uh catcher of rustlers you don’t
+show uh trace.
+
+“We figures that the only thing to do is to put up uh howl to the
+Cattlemen’s Association, and get ’em to send us uh hyiu detective. They
+tells us that they’re sending Spade Wilson over to us, but we got to
+stand the expenses. He’s private. He sure looks like he could land ’em.
+He’s down at Masterson’s playing seven-up with Zeb and Hank. I reckon
+you’ll see him pretty soon.”
+
+“Are the ones you mentioned still in darkness?” asks Obie, folding his
+hands, and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.
+
+“No,” says Scenery. “Leastwise they was getting lit up when I left.
+Come on down and meet ’em, and have uh scoop or two. They’d admire to
+see yuh, old-timer.”
+
+“The joy of meeting would be mutual,” agrees Obie, uncoiling himself
+from the chair, and taking one parting shot at that knot-hole. “But
+I never imbibe or look upon the wine when it is red. Lead forth,
+brother.”
+
+“Well, it’s your eyes and your stummick,” states Scenery, looking up at
+Obie, like uh squirrel looking up uh tree. “But if I had uh neck as long
+as you got, I’d shut my eyes to the color and let her sluice.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+They goes out together, and me and Magpie watches them amble up the
+street.
+
+“Ain’t it funny what mistakes is committed in the name uh humanity,”
+orates Magpie. “Now, there goes uh misfit on uh forlorn cause, Ike,
+and he’s just as happy over it as uh half-breed kid with uh coyote
+pup. Bringer uh Light! That face uh his would snuff uh candle at
+sixty yards. I reckon this is the delegation coming down to see us.”
+
+I takes uh look and sees Hank Padden, Zeb Abernathy, Johnny Myers,
+Scenery Sims and uh fifth person ambling down our way, and behind
+them, with his coat-tails flopping in the breeze comes the Bringer uh
+Light.
+
+“Sheriff Simpkins, I’m pleased to make yuh used to Spade Wilson,” says
+Zeb Abernathy, bobbing his head toward the stranger. “Mister Wilson is
+the detective from Helena.”
+
+“Pleased to know yuh,” says Wilson. “I’ve heard of you.”
+
+“This here person is Ike Harper,” informs Scenery, pointing me out, like
+I was uh horrible example. “Ike is sort of uh e-mergency deputy sheriff.
+When he ain’t doing that, he’s resting.”
+
+“We has hopes that you can assist Mister Wilson uh little, Magpie,”
+orates Hank Padden. “Uh course we don’t wish yuh to do anything to
+interfere with your usual occupation, but any help yuh can give the
+detective to stop the reign uh terror will be appreciated.”
+
+“Hank,” replies Magpie, “your insinuations cuts me deep-like. Uh
+course, being uh peace officer in good standing with smart men, it’s
+my duty to give assistance to the weak and needy, but I can’t figure
+how you-all can insult my abilities by asking me to help somebody
+else. I’m sheriff--me!”
+
+“It ain’t reasonable to suppose that Kirk Kelso or any of his gang is
+operating in this county. Just because the party what took them cows out
+of the Triangle corral left uh card with compliments uh Kirk Kelso on
+it, don’t argue that he done it. Somebody just done that cause Kirk
+Kelso’s reputation for foolishness just about covers that kind uh stunt.
+He never was over in this part of the state, and ain’t been heard of for
+uh long time. Somebody’s trading on his rep.”
+
+“Them cows is gone, ain’t they?” wails Johnny Myers. “Yuh can’t dispute
+that, can yuh? All you do is argue. When it comes to sheriffing you’re
+about as much use as uh bulldog in uh sheep camp.”
+
+All the time this Spade Wilson person leans against the wall, and grins.
+He’s uh long-legged, red-headed hombre, with uh face that resembles uh
+contour map of the Bad Lands. He’s got uh lazy look about his face, and
+his eyes reminds me of the eyes of uh bronc what’s trying to bluff yuh
+into thinking he ain’t got uh buck left in his carcase.
+
+“I agrees with them sentiments exactly, Johnny,” squeaks Scenery.
+“Bulldog in uh sheep camp! Haw! Haw! Haw! That sure fits like uh glove.”
+
+“Agreeing with sarcasm is the privilege uh fools,” states uh voice at
+the door, and Obie strolls in. “I distribute the Light to fools and
+wise men alike.”
+
+“Who’s your friend, Magpie?” laughs Hank Padden. “He opines that he’s uh
+light. What sheep range did he drift from?”
+
+“My flocks is on the seven hills, and I search for the lost, strayed
+and stolen. I am here to shed the--” but Spade Wilson slams the door
+in his face and cuts off his discourse.
+
+“I hates uh fool,” states Scenery Sims.
+
+“All fools do,” orates Obie, from the open window. “Uh wise man uses his
+time for better things,” and then we sees him amble back to town.
+
+“Well,” says Zeb, “now that the Light has left us we may as well finish
+this business. Magpie, we’ve talked it over uh heap and we’re come to
+the conclusion that we better give Mister Wilson uh free hand. He
+opines that it’s better for him to work alone, and we promises to stand
+for anything he does. He orates that maybe we’ll be shocked and pained
+at what he does, but we’ve agreed to suffer in silence. Ain’t that the
+how of it?”
+
+“It sure is,” agrees Hank, and Scenery and Zeb and Johnny nods.
+
+“And,” states Hank, “no matter what happens we don’t want no
+interference from the sheriff’s office. Sabe? If yuh can’t help him
+none, Magpie, we wishes yuh to shut your eyes to what he does. The
+three of us is paying the bills.”
+
+“Why waste all that conversation, Hank?” grins Magpie. “I ain’t going
+to say uh danged thing. Will Mister Wilson use our little jail or will
+me and Ike build him uh bull-pen?”
+
+“I reckon the jail will hold ’em,” says Hank. “Mister Wilson says that
+he thinks it’s uh gang uh four, and that the jail will hold that many.”
+
+“I’d be uh heap pleased to get them twenty Herefords back,” states
+Johnny Myers. “Them was all blooded stock, and they stands the Triangle
+uh lot uh money.”
+
+“Also, I’m loser to the extent of about forty head,” wails Scenery. “The
+same night they lifts that bunch from Zeb, they drifts uh bunch uh mine
+along, too. Let’s go up to Buck’s and get uh little elixir. So much talk
+makes me dry.”
+
+The four of them ambles back uptown and leaves me and Magpie and Spade
+in the office.
+
+“Got any idea of where to look for these here rustlers?” asks Spade.
+
+“You’re the doctor,” says Magpie, cocking his feet against the table,
+and rolling uh smoke. “I ain’t got uh danged thing to say about it. All
+I know is this: I’m the sheriff uh Yaller Rock County, and I feels able
+to cope with any rustler what ever vented uh brand, but any time that
+bunch uh misfire cow-owners opines to hire outside help, I just lays
+doggo. If the time drags too heavy on my hands I may get out and rustle
+uh few myself. Sabe?”
+
+“Not wishing to upset your good resolutions,” says Spade, with uh grin,
+“but I’d sure like to understand uh little about these four people what
+hires me. Are they the principal cow-owners uh this range?”
+
+“Uh-huh,” agrees Magpie. “That old dough-faced maverick, with the meeker
+than Moses expression on his face, is Hank Padden. Hank owns the Seven-A
+outfit and uh grouch. He ranges his cows on the Roarin’ Crick breaks,
+and his grouch any place.
+
+“Johnny Myers is the foreman of the Triangle by marriage. He married
+the female what inherited it from her husband. Zeb Abernathy owns the
+Cross-L herd. He looks so danged much like uh parson that it interferes
+with his cussing.
+
+“The little tin-whistle runt, with the canary voice, is Scenery
+Sims. He sold his sheep over in the Big Hole country, and went in
+for cows. Not having much idea above uh sheep, somebody unloads the
+worst-looking bunch uh cow critters on him yuh ever seen. Scabby lot
+uh mongrel stuff, but Scenery opines that they’re the greatest stock
+on earth. Now, yuh know all about ’em, Mister Wilson, so shake out
+your rope and go to it.”
+
+“Got an extra star?” asks Spade, rolling uh cigaret one handed, without
+spilling uh grain of tobacco. Uh man ain’t got much to do when he takes
+the time to learn a trick like that. Magpie fumbles in his desk and
+tosses Spade uh star.
+
+“Thanks,” says Spade. “As uh general rule I don’t carry uh star, but,
+being as this job is an exception, I may need one plumb bad.”
+
+“You’re welcome,” says I. “Being as that is the only star in the county,
+except the one what shines on Magpie’s manly bosom, it probably lets me
+out of uh lot uh grief.”
+
+“It takes nerve to put the deadwood on uh rustler,” orates Spade, and I
+agrees.
+
+“I ain’t lost no rustlers. Why should I use up my visible supply uh
+nerve? I never owned but one cow, and no rustler ever got her. I called
+her Sylvia. She was just emerging from calf-hood into cow, when she
+mistook uh grizzly for something to play with.”
+
+“I thank you for the information and the star,” says Spade. “I’ll go
+up now and have uh little talk with my employers. Do you aim to help
+me any in this hunt?”
+
+“Not any,” replies Magpie. “My jail is always open to your prisoners,
+but further than that I’m neutral. Ike’s neutral too, ain’t yuh, Ike?”
+
+“You know whereof you speak, Magpie,” says I.
+
+“That feller ain’t going to be able to do nothing,” I argues with
+Magpie, after Spade leaves.
+
+“You’re wrong, Ike,” says he. “That feller is going to do something
+that I didn’t think was possible. He’s going to pry some real money
+out of Scenery Sims.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+We sets down to enjoy uh smoke, when in comes Obie, and sets down in his
+favorite chair.
+
+“How’s your Light working?” asks Magpie, and Obie grins.
+
+“Fine, brother. There is dark places in Piperock which need illuminating
+uh heap but my mission is not confined to the city. I must work among
+the meek and lowly, and in order to fulfil my mission I must engage uh
+mode of locomotion. Dost know of one who would loan me uh horse?”
+
+“Dost not,” replies Magpie. “Me and Ike has got uh burro named
+Lodestone, which yuh might borrow. He ain’t much for looks, being
+originally of uh yaller hue, but he’ll get yuh there in time for
+meals.”
+
+“The vehicle of the Lord,” says Obie, pleased-like. “I’ll take
+Lodestone.”
+
+Obie was pleased with Lodestone. Lodestone looks Obie over, and goes
+right back to sleep. I reckon he saw uh critter of his own ambitions,
+and figgered that uh trip with him would be uh vacation.
+
+When Obie rode that burro out of town it sure was uh thing to look at.
+Obie is so long that he has to set on Lodestone’s rump, and his long
+legs stick out in front like uh pair uh buggy shafts.
+
+“All he needs is another mule and uh singletree, and he’s uh tandem,”
+howls Magpie. He waves au revoir to Obie and the other jackass, and
+then relapses into the shade again.
+
+Scenery Sims comes down to whittle uh while, but he ain’t received with
+no open arms. Me and Magpie holds sort of uh local conversation, to the
+utter exclusion of Scenery.
+
+“Ike,” says Magpie, “ain’t it funny what critters the Lord produces at
+times? Now take humans, for instance. I know one person who ain’t got
+brains enough to know when he ain’t wanted. He used to be uh shepherd,
+but he got so danged orn’ary that the sheep wouldn’t associate with
+him no more, so he sold out and comes over here into God’s country and
+tries to raise cattle.
+
+“Now, he didn’t show uh lick uh sense, Ike. He’s been with the woollies
+so long that he don’t know cows, so somebody sells him uh bunch uh
+alleged cattle which looks like uh bunch of overgrown goats. Later on
+some poor deluded rustler, with astigmatism, comes along and burdens
+himself with what he mistakes in the dark for cows. Now this here runty
+sheep person opines to pay real money to uh specialist to recover said
+overgrown goats. I’d say he’s showing poor taste.”
+
+“Them was cows,” pronounces Scenery, in uh chiding way.
+
+“Maybe,” agrees Magpie. “Way back in the miocene period, Scenery, them
+things might have been cows, but they never progressed.”
+
+“I want ’em back, just the same. Anything yuh pays real money for is
+worth wanting back, Magpie. And what is more, I’m going to get ’em
+back, too, and the person what took ’em is going to suffer in durance
+vile. Sabe?”
+
+“I love the little trees,” says Magpie. “I love the little children and
+the little squirrels and the little babbling brooks, but, by cripes, I
+can’t seem to strike uh single spark uh love in my bosom fer uh runty
+ex-shepherd. God A’mighty made uh mistake when he made ’em in the image
+uh men and furnished ’em with vocal cords.”
+
+“I don’t like you, Magpie,” states Scenery. “By gosh, I don’t! I ain’t
+never liked you!”
+
+“Scenery,” says Magpie, “them few words changes my opinion uh you uh
+heap. Honest to grandma, I never thought you had soul enough in your
+carcass even to hate anybody.”
+
+Scenery goes uptown, and as far as we can hear him he’s talking to
+himself.
+
+“I figger that this is going to be uh vacation for us, Ike,” states
+Magpie. “We’ll just lay around and let ’em detect, eh?”
+
+“You spoke from my soul that time,” I agrees.
+
+Zeb Abernathy comes down to our office the next day, and sets down on
+the step.
+
+“Your yaller burro stayed at my place last night,” says he.
+
+“Alone?” I asks.
+
+“He brought the Light,” laughs Zeb. “He’s going over to illuminate the
+Triangle this evening. Seen anything of Spade Wilson lately?”
+
+“He ain’t been here today,” I replies. Zeb sets uh while, and then
+pilgrims uptown.
+
+The next day me and Magpie is setting in the office, playing seven-up,
+when we hears somebody yell outside.
+
+“Here’s your first prisoner,” states Spade Wilson. Me and Magpie stares
+at the party with him, and then grins wide.
+
+“We don’t arrest ’em for getting drunk in this county,” states Magpie.
+
+“He ain’t drunk,” replies Spade. “He’s uh rustler.”
+
+“Rustler ----!” snorts Magpie. “He owns the Seven-A outfit.”
+
+“Uh-huh,” agrees Spade. “He’d own the Triangle, too, in uh short time
+if I let him alone. I find him setting on the top of his corral at the
+Poison Springs, admiring them Triangle Herefords.”
+
+“Magpie!” yelps Hank. “Tell this danged lying fool that----”
+
+“You tell him, Hank,” advises Magpie. “Didn’t I hear yuh say that you
+agreed to suffer in silence?”
+
+“You can’t deny that them cows were there, can yuh?” grins Spade, and
+Hank shakes his head, sad-like.
+
+“No, I reckon--aw ----! I never put them there!”
+
+“Maybe the jury will believe it,” replies Spade, and then we introduces
+Hank to the Hotel de Simpkins. He don’t make no further protest. He just
+flops down on uh bunk and cusses low and earnest-like. We waits until we
+feels that he’s about cussed out, and me and Magpie goes over to the
+door.
+
+“Hoist with his own petard, Ike,” orates Magpie.
+
+“Yes,” says I, “but it ain’t no more than I expected.”
+
+I never noticed that Hank had one boot off. Magpie wipes the blood off
+my temple and fixes the cut up with court plaster, and we resumes our
+little game.
+
+“I’ve always had uh sneaking suspicion uh Hank,” states Magpie, loud
+enough for Hank to hear, and Hank snorts like uh scared bronc, but don’t
+comment none. I makes him throw his boots over in the corner and hold up
+his hands when I brings in his supper.
+
+Uh delegation from the Seven-A comes down to try and get us to turn Hank
+loose, but we locks up, and they don’t stay long.
+
+The next morning, Hank is too danged mad to talk but he will eat. We
+feeds him and then starts our game, again.
+
+I reckon it’s about noon, when we hears a noise at the front door and
+there we finds Spade and Johnny Myers.
+
+“Hello, Johnny,” says I. “How’s tricks?”
+
+“Go to ----!” snaps Johnny. “Tell this blasted misfire sleuth where to
+head in at, Magpie.”
+
+“You ain’t gagged none are yuh?” asks Magpie. “Maybe yuh don’t care to
+talk to uh man you’re paying uh salary to.”
+
+“Gol blast his ignorant pelt!” howls Johnny. “He arrested me for
+branding uh calf!”
+
+“Better turn him loose,” I advises. “Branding calves is uh common
+occupation in this country.”
+
+“This one was uh Circle-S,” replies Spade, with uh grin.
+
+“The Circle-S had been partly vented, and the Triangle run on with uh
+running-iron. Pretty raw stuff! The calf is in that corral near the
+Medicine Crick ford, where we can get it for evidence.”
+
+“Johnny,” says Magpie, sad-like, “if there was uh drop of forgiveness
+in my soul for uh rustler, you’re the one I’d sprinkle. I’ve always
+liked you, Johnny, and I’ve always had uh lot uh respect for your
+ability as uh cowman, but right now I can’t dig deep enough in my soul
+to find sympathy for you. I can’t grieve over any cowman who will take
+uh chance on rustling one uh them scabby little critters what Scenery
+designates as cows.”
+
+“My Gawd! What’s he been doing?” snorts Hank, as we leads Johnny into
+the cell.
+
+“Petty larceny,” says I. “He stole uh calf from Scenery Sims.”
+
+Johnny and Hank looks at each other for uh spell, and then Hank turns,
+appealing-like to us, and says:
+
+“Ain’t yuh got no other cell in this jail, Magpie?”
+
+“Sorry, Hank,” says Magpie. “I know the pollution is awful, but there
+ain’t uh danged thing I can do. Maybe I can fumigate the cell uh little
+later on.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Spade goes back to town, me and Magpie resumes our game, and Hank and
+Johnny argues in low tones. The next time our game is interrupted, it’s
+Obie, the Bringer uh Light.
+
+“How yuh shining?” asks Magpie.
+
+Obie sprawls on the table and takes uh greeting shot at that knot-hole.
+
+“Nicely, brother,” says he. “The path is dark, but I bring the glow
+what guides all men. I hear that the minions of the law have been busy
+of late.”
+
+“Uh-huh,” agrees Magpie. “That is, if yuh designate uh detective as uh
+minion of the law.”
+
+“Have they been walking in darkness?” asks Obie. “I’m here to snatch
+brands.”
+
+“You better leave brands alone, old-timer,” I advises. “That’s what
+they’re in durance vile for.”
+
+“May I have converse with them?” he asks, and Magpie waves his hand
+toward the cell door. Obie wanders over and leans against the door and
+we proceeds to deal uh new hand.
+
+“I come bringing great cheer,” we hears Obie state, and the next thing I
+know something bounces off my head and slams against the wall. I sees
+seven million trumps in my hand for uh minute, and she shrinks to jist
+six cards. Obie is leaning against the wall, with his long hands hanging
+loose at his sides, and his eyes rolled toward the ceiling.
+
+“We will now sing hymn number--uh--huh--hum,” announces Obie, and slides
+to the floor in uh heap.
+
+“Ike,” says Magpie, “yuh sure done uh brilliant trick when yuh loaned
+Hank that walrus-tusk cribbage-board. Whoever throwed it sure made uh
+perfect billiard shot. Yuh can thank Obie for stopping most of it.”
+
+“Magpie, you keep that blasted thing out uh here!” yells Hank.
+
+“Who in ---- wants cheer, anyway?”
+
+Obie crawls to uh standing position and rubs his head. Then he looks
+around, foolish-like, and takes uh fresh chew. He takes uh shot at
+that knot-hole and misses it by three feet.
+
+“How’s the Light working, Obie?” asks Magpie.
+
+Obie runs his hand tenderly over the lump over his eye.
+
+“I feel like--uh--uh----”
+
+“Trimmed lamp?” suggests Magpie. Obie thinks for uh minute and then nods
+slow-like. He goes outside, gets on Lodestone, and the two of ’em points
+away from Piperock.
+
+“I never did like uh preacher,” states Hank, in sort of an explanatory
+tone.
+
+“Me neither,” agrees Magpie. “But I don’t try to kill ’em just cause I
+don’t like ’em, Hank. Maybe somebody needs ’em.”
+
+We enjoys ourselves in our simple way until the next morning, when we
+hears Spade Wilson yell outside. We goes outside and observes Spade’s
+prisoner. It’s Zeb Abernathy. Zeb looks uh whole lot put out about
+something.
+
+“Well, well!” says Magpie, pleased-like. “Come right in, Zebbie. I’m
+getting so used to dry nursing prominent citizens that I welcomes yuh
+with all my heart.”
+
+“This--uh--cross between uh--huh--my Gawd!” splutters Zeb. “He arrests
+me for branding one uh my own calves!”
+
+Zeb shakes his fist at Spade, but the detective just grins and rolls uh
+cigaret.
+
+“What’s his brand?” asks Spade.
+
+“Cross-L,” I answers.
+
+“He don’t own no Seven-A stuff does he?”
+
+“That wasn’t no Seven-A!” howls Zeb. “Gosh A’mighty, can’t yuh spell?”
+
+“The calf is tied to uh tree, and I’ll send somebody out to get it for
+evidence. She’s uh Seven-A, all right.”
+
+Zeb shakes his head, sad-like, and then turns to Magpie.
+
+“Put me in,” says he. “Put on two extra padlocks and hire uh guard or
+two, Magpie. Jail is the only place where uh man is safe from uh liar
+like him.”
+
+“You said he was uh competent man,” chides Magpie. “He sure comes highly
+recommended.”
+
+“Highly ----!” howls Zeb. “Don’t talk to me, Magpie!”
+
+“Gee cripes!” yelps Hank, as we eases Zeb into the cell.
+
+“What you doing here, Zeb?”
+
+“Branding Seven-A calves,” says I.
+
+The three of them looks each other over for uh spell, and then Hank
+steps over and stares Zeb square in the eyes.
+
+“You been stealing my calves?” snaps Hank, and Zeb swells up like an
+indignant old woodchuck.
+
+“You danged old timber rat!” howls Zeb, jumping up and down like uh
+Injun full uh turpentine. “Do you mean to insinuate that I’d----”
+
+“I’m asking,” states Hank.
+
+“You be danged! Do you think for uh minute that I’d lower myself to such
+uh state as to rustle one uh your lousy animiles, Hank Padden? Dang your
+hide, I wouldn’t let uh Cross-L cow drink out of the same spring with uh
+Seven-A. What are you and Johnny Myers doing here, eh?”
+
+“What are they in for, Ike?” he asks me, when they don’t seem inclined
+to reply.
+
+“Johnny was arrested for branding one uh Scenery Sims’s little calves,
+and Mister Wilson discovered Hank setting on the top rail of his corral,
+gloating over them Triangle Herefords.”
+
+“Oh, ho! So that was it, eh?” cuts in Johnny Myers. “I asks Hank what
+he was put in for and he told me it was none uh my danged business. No
+wonder! My Herefords, eh?”
+
+“Johnny, that’s uh danged----”
+
+“Don’t say it, Hank,” advises Johnny. “You been coveting them
+white-faced cows for uh long time, but by cripes, I didn’t think you’d
+steal ’em.”
+
+Hank sets down on his bunk and stares at his toes. I reckon he’s too
+danged mad even to stand up. Zeb seems to forget his grouch, and he
+leans against the wall and whoops:
+
+“Haw! Haw! Haw! Johnny Myers, I opined that you knowed something about
+cows but--haw, haw, haw! Rustling them Circle-S calves eh? My Gawd!
+Taking uh chance on going to Deer Lodge for uh critter like that.”
+
+I figures that about one more word will start uh mix-up so I says:
+
+“I’m going up to rustle some dinner for you fellers, and I don’t want no
+trouble to start while I’m gone. Sabe? We only got one cell in this jail
+and if you fellers can’t live in peace and brotherly love, I’ll have to
+picket some of yuh out in the corral. Also, if you smash them two cots
+you’ll have to sleep on the floor. Contemplate on your own sins and let
+personalities alone.”
+
+Piperock is quite some excited. There’s representatives from all of
+the cow outfits, and it sounds like all was trying to talk to once.
+Swede Johnson, foreman of the Seven-A outfit, is standing on uh card
+table, waving his long arms and talking uh streak, and over on the
+pool table is Andy Johnson, of the Triangle, holding uh special
+indignation meeting.
+
+“You can’t never make uh jury believe that Hank Padden would steal!”
+yelps Swede. “I wouldn’t put it uh bit past Johnny Myers, but----”
+
+“Johnny is as straight as uh string!” howls Andy. “He’s got uh
+first-class alibi too. Nobody could convict uh man if he did steal uh
+Circle-S calf. Johnny’s too good uh judge uh cows to even think uh
+stealing uh runty little----”
+
+“Cows is cows!” squeaks Scenery. “Doggone yuh, Andy----”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+“Peace be with yuh, brothers,” orates uh voice at the door, and there
+stands the Bringer uh Light. He rubs the top of his wobbly straw hat
+against the top of the door, and masticates some industrious. “Peace
+again be with yuh.”
+
+“I’ll take ’em both,” accepts Buck Masterson. “That will make two
+pieces. Have uh little drink, old trailer?”
+
+“Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine,” states Obie. “I thank
+thee, brother.”
+
+“My Gawd!” squeaks Scenery. “I wonder if that human lodge-pole thought
+somebody was going to kiss him!”
+
+Scenery catches sight of me, and immediate and soon comes over and
+whispers so loud in my ear that yuh could hear him for uh mile:
+
+“Don’t take uh chance uh letting Johnny Myers loose, Ike. He’s uh sheep
+in wolf’s clothes.”
+
+“You’re going too danged far in your remarks!” yells Pete Gonyer,
+grabbing Scenery by the back of the neck and the seat of the pants.
+
+“This is uh free--” begins Scenery, but Pete heaves him plumb into the
+corner, and his carcass shakes the whole place.
+
+“Well!” says Spade Wilson, from the doorway. “This seems to be uh lively
+gathering.”
+
+Nobody offers him uh greeting, so he swaggers up to the bar and buys
+himself uh drink.
+
+“Peace be with yuh, brother,” orates Obie, holding up his hand in the
+Piegan peace sign. “Peace be with yuh.”
+
+Spade stares at Obie for uh minute and then fills his glass.
+
+“I thought I left you at the Seven-A ranch,” says Spade. “How in ----
+did you get here so quick on uh burro?”
+
+“I know not,” answers Obie, taking uh fresh chew. “I carry the Light to
+all men, and speed is of little account. Today I am here, tomorrow I am
+there. No matter. There is many dark places.”
+
+Just then Scenery crawls out from under the chair and leans against the
+wall.
+
+“---- country, and I got uh right to orate my sentiments!” he croaks,
+starting right in where he left off when he hit the wall. “I reckon I
+got uh right to howl ain’t I? I don’t suppose that Pete Gonyer would
+howl if somebody stole his cows. Oh, no! He’d yell so danged loud that
+the soldiers at Fort Missoula would get right on uh train to come over
+and put down an Injun uprising. I’m one upright and honest man, and I
+wants----”
+
+“I wants too, Mister Sims,” states Spade, grinning. He reaches over and
+snaps handcuffs on Scenery’s wrists, and backs him out of the crowd.
+
+“What’s he done?” yells somebody in the crowd.
+
+“Well,” drawls Spade, “if some uh you fellers will go out to Scenery’s
+barn yuh will find uh fresh Cross-L cow hide in his barn.”
+
+“That’s uh danged, dinged lie!” wails Scenery. “I never had uh Cross-L
+hide in my barn in my whole life!”
+
+Two-Cinch Hogan is asleep on the porch when we comes out, and he wakes
+up enough to hear Scenery’s oration.
+
+“That’s right, Scenery,” he states, with the tears running down his
+crooked nose. “Neither have I. Ain’t got nothing in my barn. Ain’t got
+no barn. Poor’s uh church rat--me! Let me go to jail, too, eh? All good
+men in jail now. Nothin’ but riff-raff outshide any more.”
+
+Two-Cinch lays down in the sun and goes to sleep again, and we escorts
+Scenery to durance vile.
+
+Magpie looks foolish-like at Scenery, and then points to the cell door.
+Our other three prisoners are looking out, and they are sure one fine
+looking bunch.
+
+Hank has two beautiful black eyes and is shy all his shirt except the
+neck-band and one cuff. Johnny’s got hills and valleys all over his
+countenance, and is nursing uh sore jaw. Zeb grins at us and spits out
+through the place his front teeth used to inhabit.
+
+“Why?” asks Hank, pointing at Scenery.
+
+“I found uh fresh Cross-L cow hide in his barn,” replies Spade.
+
+Zeb feels of the place where his teeth used to be and grins sweetly.
+
+“Come in, Scenery,” says he, pleasant like. “Walk right in.”
+
+“You don’t aim to put me in there do yuh?” wails Scenery.
+
+“You deposes that I stole uh Cross-L cow from Zeb, and now you aims to
+make me mingle with him. This ain’t law--it’s manslaughter!”
+
+Anyway, Scenery went in.
+
+“Cross-L, eh?” lisps Zeb. “Killed uh Cross-L cow for lunch!”
+
+“Keep your big paws off me, Zeb Abernathy!” squeals Scenery. “I’m uh bad
+hombre when I’m riled. Johnny Myers stole my----”
+
+“Ho-ho-hold on, old-timer!” stutters Johnny. “Don’t accuse me uh
+rustling! You never owned uh cow, in the first place and anyway----”
+
+“Cows is cows,” states Scenery, with uh heap of conviction.
+
+“Better cool down,” advises Magpie. “You fellers ought to have more
+faith in detective work than to go right on rustling after he gets on
+the job. I could have done as well as he has if I wanted to get myself
+disliked. I been watching all of you but I just kept my mouth shut and
+let yuh go on.”
+
+The three of them looks at Magpie and then at each other.
+
+“Magpie Simpkins,” pronounces Hank Padden, “when I get loose I’m going
+to remove you from office at the end of uh .45.”
+
+“When you get loose, Hank,” states Magpie, “I’ll probably be Governor of
+the State.”
+
+The next day we holds the hearing.
+
+Old Judge Steele sets at uh card table in the old Mint hall, where
+we holds our court, and looks at the prisoners over the tops of his
+glasses. On uh soap box beside him is uh fresh cow hide, bearing the
+Cross-L brand and that same hide ain’t no sweet incense.
+
+On one side of the judge is Pete Gonyer and Andy Johnson holding uh
+spotted Seven-A calf, and on the other side is old Sam Holt and Ricky
+Henderson, trying to suppress the antics of uh runt of an animile,
+bearing the Circle-S.
+
+Spade Wilson is the happiest one in the room. That hombre sure is proud
+of his handiwork.
+
+The judge pounds on his desk and yells for order.
+
+“Hank Padden, tell me your story,” he commands.
+
+“Well,” says Hank, standing up and hitching up his belt, “I been looking
+for uh chance to talk, Judge. There is times in uh man’s life when he
+gets so danged shocked and sore that his vocal cords simply freezes up.
+Mine’s thawed out now, and I wishes to orate in uh few words just what I
+thinks----”
+
+“What you thinks ain’t evidence,” interrupts the judge. “We’ll listen to
+your story but not your thoughts.”
+
+“I never stole them Herefords!” howls Hank. “They was in my corral, but
+I’ll be uh liar----”
+
+“Very likely, Hank!” snaps the judge. “Set down.”
+
+“Judge,” says Johnny Myers, “I’d like to state----”
+
+“Take the stand, Johnny. All I wants from you is the truth, and I don’t
+want yuh to orate about the loss uh them white-faced cows. Sabe? Tell
+the court how it comes that you’re caught branding uh Circle-S calf.”
+
+“That’s uh danged lie!” explodes Johnny.
+
+“Ain’t that uh Circle-S calf?” asks the judge, pointing at Scenery
+Sims’s animile.
+
+“It don’t need uh brand to show who it belongs to,” replies Johnny.
+“Looks like uh goat.”
+
+“Cows is cows,” squeaks Scenery.
+
+“Set down, Johnny,” says the judge. “And I’d admire to have Scenery Sims
+keep his mouth shut. I’ll ask Zeb Abernathy to take the stand.”
+
+Zeb stands up and takes uh fresh chew.
+
+“All I’ve got to say, Judge, is this: Seven-A cattle never did appeal
+to me. I ain’t never stole nothing in my life, and any time I do turn
+rustler I’m going to steal real honest to grandma cows--me--Zeb
+Abernathy.”
+
+“Don’t you say one word against my stock, dang yuh!” yelps Hank.
+
+“Say!” The judge rears up on his hind feet, and hammers on the table
+with both fists. “What do you cow thieves think this is--uh cattle
+show? We’ll not pass on the merits of cows. Set down, Zeb!”
+
+“Scenery Sims, stand up. Don’t git so danged squeaky! Speak up like uh
+man, and anything yuh say can be used against yuh. Sabe?”
+
+“All I got to say is that I been paying real money to the dangest liar
+on earth!” wails Scenery. “I never had no Cross-L hide in my barn--in
+my whole life, Judge.”
+
+“You’re about as honest as the rest, Scenery, so yuh may as well save
+your breath. I’ll call on Ricky Henderson and Andy Johnson to stand up.”
+
+“You’ll have to hire somebody to hold these calves,” puffs Ricky. “If we
+lets loose there’s going to be uh stampede.”
+
+Somebody relieves them and they stands up.
+
+“Did you fellers find this here Cross-L hide in Scenery’s barn?” asks
+the judge, indicating the hairy bunch of odors beside him.
+
+“Uh-huh,” nods Ricky. “We finds it where----”
+
+“Haw-w-w-w-e-e-e--aw-w-w-w!”
+
+In the door stands Lodestone, with his long ears pointing straight to
+the front as he sings his song, and on his back is two persons, tied
+back to back, with their legs tied under Lodestone’s belly.
+
+“Hee-e-e-e haw-w-w-w-w!” sings Lodestone again, and then he starts right
+up through the crowd.
+
+“Clear the court!” yells the judge. “Or-r-r-r-r-der!”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The judge aims to pound right hard on his table, but he misses his
+target and hits old Sam Holt right on the head. Old Sam is setting
+on his haunches, holding onto that calf, and when the judge slams he
+lets go of the rope and takes uh wallop at the judge.
+
+Clear the court is right! Did yuh ever see two locoed calves in uh
+crowded room, when they aims to get out, and everybody yelling and
+shoving--and uh double-burdened jackass trying to force its way
+inside? Talk about uh bull in uh china shop!
+
+If I’d uh kept clear and watched it from afar I could have seen uh lot
+more, but somehow I always has to mix into something what don’t concern
+me in the least.
+
+I comes out of the mess with uh chair around my neck, just in time to
+get my head between Hank Padden’s legs and go to the floor again. Along
+comes uh blatting calf, gets his hind legs through that chair, too, and
+me and Hank and the calf goes plumb out into the street.
+
+Something steps on my ear, and when I gets back what little sense Ike
+Harper usually packs with him, I find Judge Steele setting on my lap
+with his eyes closed.
+
+“Yuh might show uh little dignity for your position, Judge,” says I.
+“Setting on uh man’s lap out in the street in the daytime! What’ll
+folks say?”
+
+The judge opens his eyes for uh minute, looks me over in uh sober sort
+of uh way, and shakes his head.
+
+“Ike,” says he, slow-like, sliding off my lap. “Your jackass kicked
+me as I came out.” And then he shows his ancestry by hauling off and
+kicking me right in the stummick.
+
+Then he gets up and wobbles off down the street. I gets emotional for uh
+while, and struggles uh heap with my feelings. Finally I gets up and
+pilgrims into the hall again. At first I thinks she’s deserted, but when
+I looks real close I sees two pair uh boots.
+
+One pair is protruding from under the judge’s table, which is caved in
+on one side, and the other pair is draped over uh chair. The last pair
+belongs to Magpie. He’s snoring like uh shepherd, so I goes over and
+hauls Scenery Sims out from under the table.
+
+Pretty soon Magpie sets up and looks around. He sizes up the destruction
+for uh while and then looks at me and Scenery.
+
+“Ike,” says he, “I’ll bet this is the only building standing in the
+city.”
+
+“Uh-huh,” I agrees. “And this one is only standing on the outside. I
+reckon we might as well take Scenery and put him in jail. He’s all we
+got left now, Magpie.”
+
+Magpie gets his bearings, by bracing his feet between two chairs, and
+we picks up Scenery Sims. Magpie takes him by the shoulders and I get
+him by the feet, and away we goes wobbling down the street. Scenery
+don’t wake up until we’re almost to the jail, when he sort uh shudders
+and opens his eyes. He looks at me and then whispers:
+
+“Cows is cows.”
+
+“Don’t--don’t make so much noise,” croaks Magpie, turning his head,
+painful like. “Everybody’s sleeping.”
+
+When we gets in sight of the jail we sees three people on the steps.
+It’s Hank and Johnny and Zeb and they sure looks like the breaking up
+of uh hard winter. They looks up at us as we pilgrims up, and then
+slumps down on the steps again.
+
+“Why didn’t yuh go inside out of the sun?” I asks, but they just shakes
+their heads.
+
+“He wouldn’t let us,” explains Hank, in a faraway voice jerking his
+thumb toward the door.
+
+We lays Scenery down on the steps and opens the office door. Coming out
+of the bright light makes it hard for us to see anything inside, but
+when we gets accustomed to the light, we observes Obie, the Bringer uh
+Light.
+
+He’s tilted back in his favorite chair, with his long legs drawed most
+to his chin, and when we see him he grins and hits that knot-hole dead
+center.
+
+“Why didn’t yuh let our prisoners in?” asks Magpie.
+
+Obie grins and takes another shot at the hole before he says:
+
+“Ain’t got no room. Jail’s full.”
+
+We steps over and looks into the cell. Three men are sprawling over
+the bunks, but only one is uh familiar one. This one is hunched up on
+uh bunk and don’t seem much concerned about his surroundings.
+
+“Sorry to bust up court thataway,” apologizes Obie. “I brought them two
+down here, but when I came inside to arrange for my load, that yaller
+burro wandered right uptown. I just got up there in time to see him kick
+Kirk Kelso in the jaw. He was trying to cut them two loose. I had to
+load all three on Lodestone. He’s some burro, that yaller feller. Them
+two was the ones who were planting evidence to cinch Padden, Abernathy,
+Sims and Myers. I sure been busy lately.”
+
+“Kirk Kelso!” wonders Magpie, out loud. We takes another look inside the
+cell, and then Magpie turns to Obie.
+
+“If you’re so danged free with your Light, old-timer, yuh might shed uh
+little light around here. Who in ---- are you?”
+
+Obie took another shot at his target and grinned.
+
+“Me? I’m Spade Wilson.”
+
+“I-I-I was afraid of that,” states uh voice at the cell door, and we
+observes the former detective hanging onto the bars. “No-nobody asked me
+if I was Spade Wilson. They--they told me I was and I-I didn’t have the
+heart to deny it. I stayed too long, that’s all. Yuh can’t mix pleasure
+with b-b-business.”
+
+He stares at us for uh minute, and then slips out of sight.
+
+“True as Gospel,” agrees Spade Wilson, “If I knew where I could find
+some real cowmen I might buy uh drink.”
+
+“Cows is cows,” squeaks Scenery Sims.
+
+
+[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the Mid-November, 1917 issue
+of Adventure magazine.]
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78614 ***