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diff --git a/78632-0.txt b/78632-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4612b21 --- /dev/null +++ b/78632-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1068 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78632 *** + + A BULL MOVEMENT IN YELLOW HORSE + + By W. C. Tuttle + + Author of “Magpie’s Nightbear,” “Psychology and Copper,” etc. + + +“Cobalt” Williams and “Slim” Hawkins crawled around on their hands and +knees in the road and gazed frowningly at the dust. + +“What is she, Slim?” asked Cobalt. “’Pears to me that she’s tracks uh +some kind.” + +“Unha,” agreed Slim, standing up and brushing the dust off his trousers. +“She shore is all yuh said, Cobalt, but I never saw anything like ’em. +Looks to me like uh stump had crow-hopped down th’ road. Golly, ain’t +them some feet?” + +“As they say in th’ army, we will now proceed with caution in skirmish +formation,” announced Cobalt. “And also keep yore six-gun handy, Slim.” + +“Can yuh figger out which way she’s goin’?” asked Slim. + +“These marks don’t show no re-markable difference on either end.” + +“Jist enough for me,” replied Cobalt. “They’re headin’ fer Yaller Hoss, +and bein’ as that is our ultimate destination we’ll jist sorta foller up +as it were.” + +Cobalt hitched up his belt and started off briskly down the road, but +Slim didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He took out his .45 Colt and twirled +the cylinder reflectively. + +“Say, Cobalt!” he yelled. “Did yuh ever stop to think that mebby th’ +critter which made them tracks is so all-fired e-normous that uh six-gun +ain’t no adequate life insurance a-tall?” + +Cobalt stopped and took a fresh chew. + +“Mebby she is and mebby she ain’t, Slim. I knowed uh Polock who had uh +number six foot and he used to buy number twelve boots so he could wear +all th’ socks he owned to oncet.” + +“Huh!” snorted Slim. “Yo’re oratin’ about human bein’s. No Polock ever +made them tracks. Them was made by uh regular he-animal, and right here +I goes on record as havin’ said that no animile which makes tracks like +them can ever be taken to th’ bosom of Slim Hawkins.” + +“Aw, come on, Slim, let’s find out what she is anyway. All this time +she’s gittin’ further and further away. Mebby she’s uh harmless beast +and we can haze her into Yaller Hoss and have some fun. I’d shore +like to show that alleged bad man’s town something new. Let’s hit th’ +old highwater trail, Slim. She cuts off about two miles, and mebby we +can ambush her, eh?” + +Slim agreed and they swung off the road and over a higher trail which +was only used in early Spring when the waters of Roaring Lion were on +a rampage. They plugged along the trail for about an hour and then +dropped down to the road again. + +“She ain’t come along yet,” announced Cobalt, examining the road. +“We’ll lay down here in th’ brush and plug her as she comes out of th’ +crossin’.” + +They made themselves comfortable behind some down timber and peered up +the road. Pretty soon there was a splash on the further side of the ford +and they drew their guns. + +“Hup!” yelled a voice. “Hup, you doggoned bull!” + +“Bull!” exclaimed Slim. “Cobalt, that may be uh bull-- Holy smoke!” + +Cobalt jumped to his feet and started to run, but a treacherous vine +threw him over a log and Slim sprawled across him. They extricated +themselves and sat up. The animal was standing in the middle of the +road and the frowsy-looking person on its back was looking them over +with astonished eyes. Slim rubbed his eyes and snorted-- + +“What in ---- is that thing?” + +“Gentlemen,” began the frowsy one, “this is Frederick the First. I may +state that he was the star performer of Buckley Brothers Gigantic +One-Ring Circus. Him and me are the last of the circus-- I’m Buckley.” + +“Pleased to meet yuh,” remarked Cobalt. “And jist about what are yuh +doin’ here with a elephant?” + +“Gentlemen, I am a creature of misfortune. I heard that these mountain +towns of the West were starving for a circus, so I routed my +aggregation accordingly. The report was erroneous. I finished my tour +at Silver Bend. Granite got my lion and trained monkey and Silver Bend +took the camel. My clown went to work in the mines at Silver Bend, one +of my shell men is in jail at Silver Bend and the other, I have heard, +just beat the sheriff to the Canadian border. They gave me and +Frederick sixty minutes to get out of Silver Bend and here we are. No +money and no friends. Lost all I had, too.” + +He wiped away a self-sympathizing tear and patted Frederick on the ear +with his iron-pointed club. + +“Huh,” grunted Slim. “What do yuh intend to do now?” + +“I hope to sell this noble beast for enough to take me home and make a +fresh start.” + +Cobalt walked around the elephant, keeping a safe distance from its +swinging trunk. Frederick was a small elephant, but to Cobalt and Slim +it was of massive proportions. + +“Sell him, eh?” mused Slim aloud. + +“Who in ---- would want to buy uh thing like that?” inquired Cobalt. +“Nobody in these parts wants to start uh circus, I reckon. Ain’t he +good fer nothin’ but circusin’?” + +“Gentlemen,” stated the circus man in his best spieling tones, “this +animal is good for a thousand things. He can lift and place timbers +it would take a dozen men to move. He can move or shift a loaded +wagon that six horses could not start. As a means of conveyance he +is supreme. Why, he could carry a ton of ore out of these hills as +easily as you could carry a lunch-pail. Slow and sure-footed, +gentlemen, and a great pet. Pet? Why, gentlemen, I may well say that +he’s affectionate to a startling degree. I hate to sell him, but I +need the money.” + +Slim sat down on a log and rolled a smoke. He grinned at Cobalt and blew +a cloud of smoke towards the elephant. + +“How much?” he asked. + +“Well, my friends, Frederick the First is valued at five thou----” + +“Unha,” interrupted Slim, “I know; but what I asked yuh is how much yuh +want fer it?” + +“Give it uh name,” agreed Cobalt. + +“Make me a price,” replied the wary Buckley. “I can’t give him away, you +know.” + +Slim sized the animal up with an appraising eye. + +“Well, it ’pears to me thisaway. Uh burro is worth about twenty dollars +and this brute is about as big as ten burros. Say, two hundred dollars, +eh?” + +“But this is an elephant!” exclaimed Buckley. + +“Don’t blame us,” replied Cobalt. “We never ordered elephants.” + +“Two hundred will take me to New York,” mused Buckley. “Well, I’ll let +him go for two hundred,” he declared, sliding to the ground. + +“How do yuh operate this wrinkled bronk?” asked Slim, after the money +had disappeared in Buckley’s pocket. + +Buckley explained as well as he could. + +Slim grinned and felt of the iron brad in the club. + +“As I gets it, this ‘Hup’ means anything from ‘Good mornin’, Freddy,’ to +‘Whoa, yuh Injy-rubber pile driver,’ eh?” + +“Just about,” replied Buckley. “Where can I find the nearest railroad +station?” + +“Well,” replied Cobalt, “yuh take that trail down th’ crick until yuh +comes to uh big flat about six miles from here and then turn due east +fer uh bout uh mile and you’ll come to uh water-tank. They’ll stop fer +uh flag.” + +“Say, what did yuh send him ’way off that way fer?” asked Slim, after +Buckley had gone. “Yaller Hoss is about six mile closer.” + +“Huh!” snorted Cobalt. “Me and you and Freddy are goin’ to Yaller Hoss. +Between here and there we can fix up uh story that will make ’em all +sit up. Punch that animule over to that pile uh down timber and we’ll +ride him double. Doggone, his clothes do need pressin’ plumb bad. Two +hundred, Slim! Why, he’s worth that jist to look at. Ain’t nothin’ like +him ever been in these hills before, and when we rides him into Buck +Masterson’s saloon, won’t there be something doing, Slim? I asks yuh, +won’t there?” + +“Somethin’ doin’ is right,” agreed Slim. “They’ll shore date time from +today. Hup, yuh doggone bull!” + + * * * * * + +Buck Masterson grinned at the five cards in his hand and shoved in a +stack of blues. + +Pete Gonyer toyed with his chips and frowned at the jack-pot. + +“Yuh out on uh limb again, Buck?” he queried. + +“He’ll let yuh know fer about twenty-five dollars, Pete,” laughed Art +Miller, who had the next “say” in the pot. “Go on, Pete. Play ’em high +and sleep in th’ street.” + +Andy Johnson yawned and threw his cards on the table. + +“Doggone it, I ain’t held uh hand all day. I’m tired uh poker anyway. +Wish something would happen in this man’s town fer uh change.” + +His wish was partly gratified, for at that moment the front door flew +open and an Indian galloped through the room, with his blanket streaming +out behind him like a striped comet, and as he tore through the back +door he yelled: + +“_Hy-ak! Diaub chahko!_” + +Rickey Henderson, the bartender, dropped a glass of spirits and climbed +on top of the bar. “What did he say, Buck?” he gasped. + +Buck threw back his head and laughed. + +“I reckon Texas Charley has been hittin’ th’ lemon extract again. He +yelled fer us to run ’cause th’ devil is comin’. Charley’s gittin’ too +danged thick with that Chink cook at Dutch Fred’s. Them lemon jags are +apt to make an Injun----” + +Came a loud crash of splintering boards out in front of the saloon and +the false front wabbled dangerously. The doors were built wide enough to +drive a team through, but happened to be closed and latched. Suddenly +they bent inward as from a great weight and the lock spinned off across +the room. + +“Hup!” yelled a voice from the outside. “Hup, yuh doggoned bull!” + +Masterson tried to slide his chair back to get up, but the rest of the +players, frantic to get out of the way of those bulging walls, climbed +over the table and fell on Buck in a heap. + +“Hup!” + +_Splinter! Smash!_ The doors gave way and in surged Frederick the First, +with Cobalt and Slim lying flat on his back to keep from being swept +off. + +“Hey!” yelled Masterson, trying to pull the overturned table on top of +himself for protection. “Why don’t somebody shoot it?” + +The rest of the crowd seemingly got started at once like a flying wedge +of football formation and all hit the back door at the same time. +Unluckily for them the door opened inside and no one seemed inclined to +back away and give the door a chance. + +Frederick leaned against the bar and over it went. Just in time, too, +because Rickey Henderson was lying behind it trying to put a couple of +cartridges into the muzzle end of a shotgun. + +“Help!” yelled Rickey as the avalanche hit him, but subsided after a few +weak groans. + +Frederick the First hated whisky. He hated men who drank it, and even +the scent of alcohol threw him into a panic. A stream of it flowed from +under the overturned bar and eddied around his front feet. He swung his +trunk over it a few times and trumpeted loud enough to shake the +building. + +“Whoa, you son-of-a-gun!” yelled Cobalt, as the elephant lurched forward +and reached for Masterson’s booted leg. “Look out, Buck!” + +Masterson twisted like an eel and slid off down the room and under +the antiquated pool table, while Frederick whirled the boot back and +forth over his head. Suddenly he let it fly in the direction of the +tongue-tied mob at the back door. It glanced off Art Miller’s head +and banged against the wall. + +“Somebody shoot it,” quavered Masterson from under the table. “Go back, +yuh son of uh sea cook, or I’ll shoot!” his voice finished in a shrill +crescendo, and he waved a six-shooter over the farther end of the table. + +“Bang!” His first shot hit the swinging oil lamp over Slim’s head and +deluged him with kerosene. The next one thudded into the armor plating +of Frederick’s shoulder. The elephant never flinched, but his little +eyes grew redder. + +“M-m-m-m-make him behave, Slim,” quavered Cobalt. “He’ll wreck this hull +blamed town. Lemme down.” + +The elephant moved ponderously down the room and the rough pine flooring +snapped and groaned under his tread. He turned to the pool table and +swept all the balls into a heap with his trunk. + +“Woosh!” he announced, as he gathered one of the balls in the loop of +his trunk. + +_Bing!_ He threw his trunk forward and drove one of those pool balls +through the door over Pete Gonyer’s head, and then reached for another. + +“Duck!” yelled Pete, and the whole mob piled up on the floor. + +Another and another smashed against the wall until five had been thrown. +The elephant paused and shook his head. + +“Look out, he’s comin’!” yelled some one, and the bunch scrambled for +points of safety. + +The elephant ignored the scrambling crowd and backed off a few steps. + +“Hrr-r-rump!” he announced, and bowing his neck he started straight for +the back door. + +Buck Masterson had not builded well. That no cyclones or earthquakes +had been anticipated by the builders was attested by the fact that +when Frederick the First hit that door he not only took the door but +the greater part of the rear of the saloon as well. + +“Woosh!” he grunted, and moved forward. + +Cobalt and Slim were swept off in the demolition and lit running. + +“Where yuh goin’?” panted Cobalt, running and looking back at the +elephant trying to get rid of the door-casing. + +“Goin’ away while th’ goin’ is good,” replied Slim, ducking around +the corner of a corral. “Git behind that shed, Cobalt! Hell’s goin’ +to break loose pretty soon. Mama mine, didn’t he make uh mess! Look +out, here they come!” + +Pete Gonyer and Andy Johnson came galloping around the corner with a gun +in each hand. + +“Which way did they go?” yelled Pete. “See anything of them, Buck?” + +Masterson ran across the street to where the horses were hitched at a +rack, and Art Miller was at his heels. + +“Come on!” yelled Masterson. “They can’t git far, and doggone ’em, I +want to git my rope on that pair. Bust up my house, will they!” + +“Look out!” roared Rickey Henderson, weaving across the street and +leaving a trail of bad whisky, torn clothes and profanity. + +But he yelled too late. Frederick the First was on the job again. Unable +to part company with that door-casing he ambled around the corner and +came bumping over towards the hitch-rack. + + * * * * * + +Masterson’s mount, a Roman-nosed roan outlaw, took one look at the +elephant, and sun-fished on the space of a saddle blanket. Caught +unawares, Masterson described a parabola over Wick Smith’s wire fence +and lit sitting down. + +Art Miller’s latigo busted and left him on his right ear in the middle +of the road. Gonyer’s and Johnson’s horses saw the elephant at the +same instant and collided in midair. Pete’s horse turned a somersault, +spilling Pete under the board sidewalk. Andy dropped his reins and +pulled leather as his buckskin pitched off down the street and around +the corner. Rickey Henderson forgot the elephant in the excitement. + +“Haw! Haw!” He doubled up with mirth. “Masterson shore went high wide +and handsome. Wonder if-- Wow!” + +Frederick had sneaked up and playfully tried to wrap his trunk around +Rickey’s neck. Rickey dropped his two guns and galloped wildly up the +street out of sight. + +“We got to catch that danged chunk uh animated rubber,” announced Slim, +peeking around the corner. “He’s got that door off his neck now. Come +on, Cobalt.” + +“Not fer mine,” replied Cobalt with conviction. “Not any a-tall. I +hereby renounces all claim to li’l Freddy.” + +“Aw, come on, Cobalt. Doggone, there he goes towards th’ post-office! +Come on, we got to head him off. We can’t let him assault th’ +Gover’ment.” + +Frederick was sizing up the little post-office as Slim ranged alongside. + +“Hup!” yelled Slim, but Frederick had different views. + +Miss Harris, the post-mistress, faded, slim and forty, and much admired +by Buck Masterson, opened the door of the post-office and glanced out. +It was only a glance and it encountered the waving trunk of Frederick. +She yelped once and a second later there was a flash of petticoats out +the back door and Miss Harris faded out of the picture. + +The front of the office was built with a porch, a post on each corner +and one in the middle. To Frederick they were something to play with. + +“Look out!” yelled Cobalt. + +“Hup!” shouted Slim, and raced away just in time to miss being pinned +under the falling timber. + +The elephant backed away and looked satisfied. + +“If I could only git on his back I could handle him,” wailed Slim. “He’s +so danged big he can’t see us on th’ ground.” + +“I’ll give yuh uh boost,” volunteered Cobalt. + +Slim reached up on the elephant’s back as far as he could. Cobalt took +hold of Slim’s left foot and boosted--but not far. Frederick reached +around, grabbed Cobalt by the slack of his trousers and threw him twenty +feet away and Slim fell flat in the dust. + +“Doggone yer hides, I’ll show yuh!” yelled a voice, and Slim looked up +into the scratched face of Buck Masterson. + +Buck glared at Slim for a moment and then glanced at the post-office. + +“My Gawd!” he yelped. “Tore down th’ post-office and--oh, Mis’ Harris! +Mis’ Harris!” + +He ran over and started to lift up the broken boards. He never noticed +that it was only the porch. Slim got up, ignoring Masterson’s wails and +hobbled off down the street in the wake of Frederick. Cobalt limpingly +brought up the rear. + +“Sufferin’ Moses!” groaned Cobalt. “He took up th’ slack uh my pants so +danged sudden that he busted my wishbone. Let him go, Slim.” + +“We ain’t stoppin’ him none, are we?” replied Slim peevishly. “Go round +and head him off, Cobalt.” + +“Not me. If I attacks at all it will be from th’ rear. That trunk uh +his’n is too previous. Look, Slim, he’s headin’ fer th’ crick. Mebby +he acted thataway ’cause he was dry.” + +The elephant waded knee-deep in the little creek and began to drink. + +“Now’s yer chance to git on his back and control him,” whispered Cobalt. + +Slim sneaked along the bank above the elephant and slid on to his back. +Frederick never moved. + +“Come on, Cobalt, he’s plumb docile now.” + +Cobalt sidled up the bank and slid on. + +“It’s all over but th’ shoutin’,” gleefully announced Slim. + +“By golly, we shore----” + +Slim’s words were cut off by a stream of dirty water which hit him full +in the mouth with terrific force, and the next instant he and Cobalt +were reposing in the creek, while Frederick splashed out the other side +and headed for town. + +They sat there and pawed the mud out of their faces and looked foolishly +at each other. Suddenly they heard the thump of horses’ hoofs and then +the voice of Andy Johnson remarked: + +“They ain’t here, Pete. They must be back up-town some place. I reckon +we’ll find ’em where we find that blasted beast. Better leave th’ bronks +here and go on foot, eh?” + +“Reckon that’s right, Andy. Them bronks shore don’t kumtuks that +animule. By golly, them fellers shore have got uh bunch uh trouble +comin’ to them, eh, Andy?” + +They dropped their reins and their voices died off in the distance as +they hobbled off toward town and Frederick the First. + +Slim looked at Cobalt for a minute and then broke into a wide smile. + +“Th’ Good Book says that th’ ravens fed Elijah, Cobalt, and I takes it +that them hosses are uh heap opportune, eh?” + +They crawled out of the creek bed and peered over the bank. There was +considerable shouting going on up-town, but their view of the action +was obstructed. + +Slim walked over and caught both horses. + +“Take yore pick, Cobalt,” he announced. “An elephant is uh hy-iu +animile; but bein’ brought up with ordinary critters and not bein’ +finicky a-tall I nacherally prefers uh common or garden variety of +outlaw bronks.” + +Cobalt chose the roan, and they swung around and raced off across the +sage-covered flat away from Yellow Horse. + +Behind them they heard a muffled crash and the faint report of a gun as +they raced out of hearing distance. + +At midnight they swam their horses across Little Wind river and entered +another state. As they halted on the opposite bank to roll a smoke and +give the horses a breathing-spell Slim turned in his saddle and gazed +back toward Yellow Horse. + +“Hoss thieves and outlaws, Cobalt. That’s me and you. Outlawed by uh +danged Injy-rubber ox that don’t know Whoa from Hup! But, Cobalt, he +was all that he was represented. He shore could move things.” + +Cobalt shifted uneasily in his saddle. + +“Unha. He shore was, and did, Slim. Also he was affectionate to uh +startling degree. I’m goin’ to walk uh ways.” + + * * * * * + +Slim Hawkins yawned heavily and tried to pull the covers closer around +his chin and, after an effort or two, sat up with a look of wonderment +on his face. He rubbed a long, freckled hand across his prominent nose +and grinned foolishly. + +He contemplated the snoring individual at his side for a few seconds +and then flipped a small rock in the general direction of the recumbent +form. + +“Wake up, Cobalt!” he yelled. + +Cobalt drew a dusty hand across his mouth and woke up with a sneeze. + +“Doggone it, yuh don’t need to paralyze uh feller with uh rock to wake +him up,” he protested. “I wasn’t--say, Slim, what th’--huh!” + +Slim grinned weakly and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. + +“Here we are, Cobalt. Right here in th’ corral with th’ rest of th’ +jackasses. Them two mules and me and you jist makes uh quartette. We +will now proceed to sing, ‘Lips which touch liquor----’” + +“Aw, let me think!” wailed Cobalt. + +“Think? Say, if you had any thinks comin’, why didn’t yuh cut some uh +them loose last night? Golly, they shore have got some whisky in this +man’s town. I never in my whole life--say, we must ’a’ been like uh +pair uh timber Willies last night. Ugh! Do yuh remember about bein’ +put to bed in this corral, Cobalt?” + +Cobalt shook his head wearily and picked absently at the wool on his +chaps. + +“I’ve heerd tell,” murmured Slim, “that when uh patient gits to th’ +point where he picks at th’ covers they goes right out and buys him +uh nice li’l shiny, wooden box.” + +“Funny, ain’t yuh!” groaned Cobalt. “Mama mine, this is th’ worst room +I ever had. My mouth tastes like uh Flathead Injun had jist moved out. +I can’t remember nothin’, Slim--that is, I can’t remember nothin’ that +happened last night. I know I dreamed about that danged elephant again. +That makes three nights hard runnin’ that I’ve chased Li’l Freddy in my +sleep, and I don’t reckon it’s lucky to do uh thing like that.” + +“I’ll bet she was some dream,” yawned Slim. “That tanglefoot liniment +which they sells fer whisky in this man’s town would make uh feller +dream of-- Oh, Jerusalem my happy home! Look!” + +Cobalt was reaching for the fence as an assistance to getting to his +feet, when Slim’s exclamations hit his ear-drums. He turned his head, +got one good look and slid weakly back into the dust. + +“Buck Masterson!” exploded Slim. + +Cobalt merely groaned and rubbed at the six-days’ growth of black +stubble on his pudgy face and shuddered as he gazed at the rangy, +dust-covered individual at the corral gate. Masterson held a +six-shooter in his right hand, while with his left he slapped his +worn sombrero against his leather chaps to remove the dust. + +His grizzled hair was unkempt and his mustache hung like a pair of +discouraged buck tails on each side of his crooked mouth. A half-smile +chased across his face and broke into a thousand tiny wrinkles at each +side of his eyes as he sized up the pair lounging in the corral dust. + +“You shore got to come and git it,” he announced slowly. + +“Unha,” agreed Slim wonderingly. “I reckon we shore do.” + +“Come and git it,” he repeated. + +“You go git it,” implored Cobalt. “I ain’t a-feelin’ spry, and it only +takes one to----” + +“Shut up!” roared Masterson, waving the gun. “None uh that funny stuff! +Are yuh comin’ to git it?” + +Slim grinned weakly. + +“Jist throw it over this way, Buck. Let down th’ hammer so she won’t go +off.” + +“Say, yuh danged menagerie mutt, I ain’t talkin’ about no gun. I’m +oratin’ about elephants--e-l-e-f-a-n-t-s, _sabe_?” + +“Slimmie,” wailed Cobalt, “he means Frederick th’ First. He wants us to +come and git it! Mama mine, he invades th’ sanctity of our bood-wah jist +to ask us to come and git that--thing!” + +“‘Quoth th’ raven, Nevermore,’” quoted Slim. “Buck, I asks yuh as mason +to mason----” + +“Not any a-tall,” stated Buck, with an air of finality. “You and +yore pardner in crime are in bad over my way and even with th’ hull +community, includin’ greasers and Chinks, to back up my play I shore +hates to shoot yuh down in cold blood, but--again I asks yuh in uh +ladylike manner and without rancor in my heart, are yuh comin’ to +git it?” + +Cobalt spilled the tobacco out of his cigarette for the fifth time and +turned to Slim. “Do we go?” + +Slim climbed to his feet and hitched up his belt. + +“Oh, well, of course, if that’s th’ way yuh feels about it, Buck, we’ll +go--shore. But I jist wants to call yore attention to one thing, Buck. +There is times in every man’s life when circumstances git th’ best uh +him. Sometimes it’s booze, sometimes it’s women and sometimes it’s th’ +pasteboards. Now if yuh asks me I’ll re-mark that I’m willin’ to be +quoted to th’ extent that I believes elephants is circumstances too.” + +“Uh course I don’t advertise myself as th’ ‘Greatest and Only Elephant +Remover in th’ Universe,’ but as uh pair uh ‘Go Getters’ I reckon me and +Cobalt are some distinguished.” + +“Say, Buck,” drawled Cobalt, “how about them hosses? I shore ain’t goin’ +back to face no judge and jury.” + +Buck grinned widely and showed the need of a dentist in Yellow Horse. + +“Not any, Cobalt. I reckon you fellers saved Andy Johnson and Pete +Gonyer uh heap of explanations, ’cause th’ next day th’ real owners +uh them bronks showed up with uh deputy sheriff.” + +“Frederick been behavin’ right well?” asked Slim. + +“As uh perfect gentleman I don’t reply a-tall. I only talks two +languages--English and profane--and English won’t no ways describe what +I’d have to tell yuh. All we ask is fer you fellers to come up there and +take it away. We won’t even ask yuh where yo’re goin’. I’m representin’ +Yaller Hoss in this matter, and while you fellers are to blame fer th’ +advent of that animule, I’m here to state that uh memorial shaft will be +raised right in th’ middle uh Main Street with yore names carved thereto +th’ minute yuh can persuade that--huh--animule to pilgrim away to parts +unknown.” + +“Buck,” laughed Slim, “right in th’ center uh th’ street looks good, but +I’m figgerin’ that ain’t no place a-tall fer uh double funeral.” + +Cobalt cleared his throat. + +“My opinions edzactly. I ain’t in favor uh no memorial. We’re jist +uh plain pair uh ‘Go Getters’ and all we ask is yore kind regards +and-- Buck, there ain’t no cause fer that six-gun. Me and Slim gave +ours to th’ bellboy fer turnin’ out th’ lights last night.” + +“Well, you know how Yaller Hoss stands and all we ask is peace. I’ll +borrow uh pair uh bronks from old man Doolittle and we’ll leave here +pronto. We can’t git there none too soon, ’cause my fair city ain’t +noways what you’d call satisfied in th’ society of that hunk uh +armor-plated deviltry.” + + * * * * * + +It was noon the next day when the trio rode into Yellow Horse and turned +their tired horses over to a scared-looking stable-man. Slim glanced up +and down the street and then turned to Buck. + +“She don’t look natural a-tall, some way. What’s th’ matter? There +ain’t uh hoss on th’ street and nobody in sight. Is somebody bein’ +buried today, Buck?” + +“Not yit!” snorted Buck. “Do yuh notice that my saloon’s got uh +barb-wire fence across th’ front? Notice that there ain’t no +ve-randa on th’ post-office nor on Wick Smith’s store, and that th’ +town pump has been tore up by th’ roots? Did yuh happen to notice +that th’ hitchin’-rack’s done vanished and that th’ hay-scales has +done weighed its last load? Remember that nice white picket-fence +which Mis’ Wayland had around her candy-store? Gone! Tore up by that +zoological monstrosity!” + +“Mama mine!” declared Cobalt. “Freddy shore leaves his trade-mark. +What’s that buckboard doin’ on top of Jimmy Peyton’s shack?” + +“Doin’!” yelped Buck. “It’s bein’ saved! That beast tried three times to +drag that wagon through Smith’s front door, but it was too wide. Me and +Jimmy sneaked it away from th’ brute while said beast was eatin’ up old +man Anderson’s load uh baled hay. We h’ists her up there fer safety.” + +Slim removed his sombrero and ran his forefinger thoughtfully over the +snake-skin band. + +“People have queer tastes sometimes. I observes that Sam Holt’s done +moved his cow-shed into his front yard.” + +“Gosh, that’s right!” exclaimed Buck. “I’ll bet----” + +“Hey!” yelled an excited, high-pitched voice, and a tousled-headed +youngster, who appeared across the street, beckoned to the trio. “Come +on over here! They’ve got it locked up in your stable, Mr. Masterson, +and they’re afraid it ain’t goin’ to stay put.” + +“Comin’ right over, sonny!” yelled Masterson, and then to Slim: “I’m +glad they got it locked up. We chased it into th’ corral before I +left and th’ danged stump-puller went all th’ way around and removed +all th’ posts. Come on and git it now.” + +They crossed the street and found all of the male inhabitants of Yellow +Horse perched on a high board fence, cussing and discussing ways and +means of hampering the proclivities of Frederick. + +“I’m bettin’ two to one that he don’t stay put fer five minutes more,” +stated Pete Gonyer. “Anybody want to take uh chance? Also I wagers even +money that in case he does emerge, th’ north side of th’ shack will hit +th’ ground before th’ south side does.” + +The crowd was too interested in the trembling cow-shed to notice the +entrance of Slim and Cobalt, until the tousled-headed kid shinned up +the fence and yelled, “There they are!” and pointed them out. + +There was a tense moment as the crowd recognized them, and several +hands strayed unconsciously toward pistol-butts. Masterson recognized +the symptoms and, stepping forward, threw up both hands. + +“No gun-play, folks! I knows how yuh feels, but this ain’t no time fer +such petty revenge as shootin’. These fellers has my assurance that all +we wants uh them is th’ immediate removal of this animated housewrecker. + +“Bein’ acquainted with th’ habits and customs uh elephants they has +assured me that they will remove it with wisdom and despatch. Jist sit +tight and let them proceed with their chore.” + +Slim tightened up his belt and cleared his throat. + +“Who put this elephant in that shed?” he asked in a +“Who-gives-this-bride-away?” tone. + +“Andy Johnson and Pete Gonyer did!” yelled the kid gleefully. “Pete hit +it with a rock and then run into the stable and climbed out of the hay +window, and Andy shut th’ door behind it.” + +“Ain’t you fellers got any sense?” asked Cobalt in an aggrieved tone. +“Hit it with uh rock, eh? Anybody with sense would--say, Slim, did yuh +ever hear th’ like?” + +“Awful,” agreed Slim. “But, Cobalt, yuh got to make allowances fer +downright ignorance. Yuh see they never studied elephantology like we +have and yuh can’t expect them to----” + +“Look out!” yelled Rickey Henderson. + +“That wall is due to bust in uh minute.” + +Slim ran over to the wall with the least bulge, put his mouth to a crack +and yelled-- + +“Hup!” + +The boards creaked and groaned as they settled back to their former +position. + +“Uh little knowledge is all that’s needed,” stated Cobalt, swelling out +his chest and leering at the crowd on the fence. + +“Well, go on and git him out,” growled Wick Smith. “Jist makin’ him quit +tryin’ to come out through uh knot-hole don’t prove nothin’ to me.” + +Slim beckoned to Cobalt and whispered in his ear-- + +“Stand ready to slide when I opens th’ door.” + +“Haw! Haw!” exploded Art Miller from the highest part of the fence. +“I done shot that brute six times this mawnin’ with uh .44 and I +don’t believe he even heard th’ noise. I’m in favor uh usin’ dynamite +on him while he’s in that shack. All in favor uh dynamite signify by +yellin’-- Wow! Here he comes!” + +All of which was very true. At that moment there came a crash of +splintering wood, a cloud of dust and splinters, and Frederick the First +was free. Not only free but coming straight for the extemporized grand +stand. + +“Whoop!” yelled Slim as he whirled on his boot-heel. He took two long +strides and cleared that six-foot fence by the simple method of placing +both hands on top and turning a complete hand-spring. The leap was a +world-beater but the landing was disastrous. + +Pete Gonyer and Art Miller had tangled in midair as they jumped and as +they landed Slim’s pin-wheel turn was finished and he lit squarely on +top of them with a jolt that deprived all three of them of their quota +of atmosphere. + +Slim was the first to recover. He saw the situation at a glance. Pete’s +face was twitching and grimacing as he tried to pump air into his +depleted lungs, while Art, on the bottom of the heap, was pounding his +spurred heels in the dust and making queer little chuckling noises with +his mouth. + +Slim got up and raced around the corner. He was badly shaken up and +desired to limp more than anything on earth, but he knew that there +were healthier locations for him than that special spot when Pete and +Art recovered. + +“Mister, he’s got your pardner,” informed the kid, from around the +corner of the blacksmith shop. The kid’s face was so white that his +freckles didn’t show and his eyes were as large as saucers as he +pointed up the alley. “He’s got him I tell you! Mebby he’s stood on +him by this time.” + +Slim limped up the alley and behind the saloon. + +“‘Got him’ is right,” he groaned. + +Cobalt was on his belly in the dust, and over him stood the elephant. +Its trunk was playfully tapping Cobalt’s bare head and at every tap +Cobalt dug his nose in the dust and squeaked-- + +“Don’t!” + +“Are yuh alive, pardner?” panted Slim. + +“Jist barely,” whispered Cobalt, and ducked into the dust again and +groaned. + +The crowd which had scattered far and wide began to drift back and peer +around the corners. Some of the bolder ones sauntered out in sight but +were ready for another stampede in case the elephant made another foray. + +The elephant was getting nervous. He would lift one foot at a time and, +after waving it around slowly, would place it back in the exact spot it +had previously occupied. + +“If he ever sits down I’m uh goner,” stated Cobalt in a whisper. + +“He does jist that very thing,” remarked Rickey Henderson, cheerfully +from the cover of a pile of beer-kegs. “Yesterday I seed him stand on +his hind laigs jist like uh dog and then sit down plumb hard.” + +Suddenly Slim had a bright idea. + +“Listen: I saw an elephant do that once and he was plumb slow in settin’ +down. Now, when I walks up and yells ‘Hup!’ you jist rolls over fast and +gits clear, _sabe_?” + +“Not any!” declared Cobalt. “Let ’im alone, Slim. I’m alive now and this +elephant can’t stand here all day. He’s got to move some time, and if I +has anything to say about it, he moves of his own free will.” + +“This thing has got to stop right now!” yelled Buck Masterson, coming +down the alley with a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. “Step back while +I perforate that flat-footed rubber devil! Git back, Slim! That was my +stable and doggone it----” + +Slim stepped between Buck and the elephant and threw up his hands. + +“Don’t do it, Buck! Shoot th’ beast if yuh must, but not while my +bunkie is sleepin’ in its bosom. I’m uh heap wise to them scatter-bore +riot-guns, and besides it wouldn’t even tickle that animule. Put that +gun down and we’ll try uh little moral----” + +Slim’s voice broke suddenly. Frederick the First had slowly wandered +away from Cobalt, while every one was watching Masterson’s actions, +and dropped his trunk over Slim’s shoulder. + +Slim’s face turned a pasty white and he froze in his tracks. The trunk +traveled slowly, caressed the back of his neck, tickled his ears and +then came to a stop on his right shoulder. Slim reached up automatically +and stroked it. The elephant moved up closer and began to explore Slim’s +pockets. The crowd watched open-mouthed for Slim’s annihilation. + +“Plumb docile,” announced Cobalt in awestricken tones. + +Slim came back to earth and grinned foolishly. + +“All yuh got to do is to use uh little brains. You snake-hunters don’t +know nothin’ about elephants. Yuh can’t handle uh beast like this with +six-shooters and riot-guns.” + +He stroked Frederick’s trunk and reached for his cigarette-papers. + +“Pore li’l ol’ Freddy. Did they abuse yuh? Yuh got to excuse ignorance +in some folks and----” + +Frederick suddenly whipped his trunk away from Slim’s shoulder and +began backing up. His little eyes were searching the ground and his +ears flopped like a pair of loose sails. + +Faster and faster he backed until he hit the fence with a crash. The +force of the impact turned him around and he surged the whole length +of that fence, taking it all with him. + +Heretofore he had always stopped to consider his handiwork, but this +time he merely tossed his trunk and trumpeted wildly as he crashed +over the fence and weaved down the street. + +The crowd, with the exception of Slim and Cobalt, had broken for the +street as the elephant began backing. + +“Pack rat!” croaked Cobalt. “Pack rat jist came out of that old stable +and scared seven kinds uh delirious delight out uh that big hunk uh +rubber! What do yuh know about that?” + + * * * * * + +Came a sound of galloping horses and bouncing wagon from the street and +a chorus of “Whoa! Whoa!” and then a murmuring of excited voices. + +Slim listened for a moment and then grabbed Cobalt by the sleeve. + +“Let’s git a-goin’! Gol darn this town anyway!” + +They slipped around behind the demolished stable and started to sneak +behind Wick Smith’s store, but Fate in the person of Masterson met them +at the corner, and fate held a leveled riot-gun. + +“No yuh don’t! I was layin’ fer jist some sich move. That--huh--elephant +hit th’ street jist in time to meet judge Simpkins with uh load uh hay. +Th’ judge is plumb busted up and his wagon is in keepin’ with th’ rest +of this town. I reckon th’ hosses are in Canada by this time. Jist turn +around and mosey up th’ street.” + +Slim and Cobalt made no protest. Men seldom protest at the muzzle of a +riot-gun. At the center of the street Slim stopped and removed his hat. + +“I reckon you’ll erect that shaft right here, eh, Buck? Nice location.” + +Buck started to reply but at this juncture the crowd surged out of +Smith’s store and over to where Buck stood with his captives. + +“Shall we hang ’em?” asked Art Miller, and this was a signal for each +individual to express his opinion as to the ultimate fate of the pair. + +“If yuh asks me, I favors hangin’ uh heap,” stated Pete Gonyer, rubbing +his still aching side. + +“Git yore dirty hands off me, Pete!” roared Slim. “I don’t let no +hoss-thief pass sentence on me.” + +“How’s th’ judge?” interrupted Buck. + +“Still unconscious,” some one replied. + +“We sent to Sagebrush fer Doc Ames,” announced Andy Johnson. + +“We can’t do uh thing till he comes, and I don’t reckon he can git here +before ten o’clock tonight.” + +“Tell yuh what we better do,” suggested Smith. “We’ll lock ’em in that +old ’dobie shack uh mine fer th’ night. There’s uh good padlock on th’ +door and th’ window ain’t big enough fer uh monkey to crawl through. +We’ll keep ’em till we sees if th’ judge is goin’ to pull through, +eh?” + +The crowd received the suggestion with acclaim, and formed a triumphal +procession to the aforementioned shack. It was a relic of the days +before lumber came to Yellow Horse, and consisted of one room about ten +by fifteen feet, low ceiling, and the one window was high up on the wall +and was evidently used more as a loophole or ventilator. On the floor +was nothing except some old straw and the dust of years. + +Into this they were thrust and the door padlocked behind them. The +crowd then wandered back to slake their thirst and await the coming +of the doctor. + +“Well, we’re safe from Freddy,” stated the optimistic Slim, after the +crowd had gone. + +“Unha,” agreed Cobalt doubtfully. “I heard Andy tell Pete that Frederick +had jist kept on goin’. I reckon that animule must ’a’ had uh right +smart of uh yaller streak, Slim. I wonder what they can do to us in case +th’ judge don’t recover?” + +“It ain’t what they can do to us, Cobalt, it’s what will they do to us? +I’m sorry for th’ judge.” + +“Then yore sorrow’s plumb misplaced, Slim. If yuh got any sorrow to +waste jist smear uh little close to home. Remember in case he does +survive he sits on our case, _sabe_?” + +“This is some hy-iu jail,” remarked Slim, after examining all the walls +and ceiling. “That window ain’t big enough to send yore regrets out of. +Golly, it’s gittin’ dark. Give me yore smokin’.” + +They consumed several cigarettes before it got so dark that Cobalt had +to light a match to look at his watch. + +“Eight-thirty,” he announced. “I reckon that doctor will be due in +about--say, what in thunder’s shuttin’ th’ little light out of our +window?” + +Slim jumped to his feet and strode over to the wall. + +“Holy mackerel, it’s that--look, Cobalt! It’s Frederick! Look out, he’s +tryin’ to come in th’ window!” + +The elephant slid his trunk over the inside of the window and sniffed +at the dust-covered walls. Suddenly his trunk stiffened and he began +to pull back. + +Came a muffled grunt and the side of that dobie shack for a space of +about six feet wide parted company with the roof, and a cloud of dust +almost suffocated the captives. + +“Woosh!” grunted Frederick happily, and bunted his broad head against +the wall next to the door. + +At last he had found a wall that wasn’t full of nails and splinters, and +the fact seemed to please him immensely. + +_Sqush! Boof!_ The entire front wall caved in and the ceiling sagged. + +Obeying the same impulse, Slim and Cobalt sprang to their feet and +dashed out of the gaping walls as far as possible from the elephant and +headed for the open country. They ran as far as their lungs allowed, +rested a few seconds and then repeated the performance, and stopped not +until far from Yellow Horse. + +“Where--goin’?” panted Cobalt. “Let’s go--Curlew.” + +“Not any,” wheezed Slim. “We ain’t got no horses and this--huh--flat +country ain’t safe a-tall. We’ll go--Mica.” + +“Aw, we can’t,” protested Cobalt. “We can’t travel that trail in th’ +dark. Golly, we’d fall off! Why, Slim, there’s places on that trail +where it’s uh million miles to th’ bottom!” + +“We’ll take uh chance. It’s uh cinch they can’t foller us, and th’ moon +will be up pretty soon, Cobalt. Come on! Let’s git a-goin’ and leave +this flat country.” + +Cobalt protested every step of the way but followed Slim to the foot of +the trail. This trail had never been popular with the cattlemen on +account of its narrowness, and was seldom used except by foot travelers. +In places a misstep would plunge the unlucky one for five hundred feet +straight into the bristling tops of spruce and fir--missing that, the +jagged rocks of Lost Creek were anything but inviting. + +They toiled around the worst part of the trail and sat down to rest. +The moon flooded the valley below them and showed a silhouette of the +Pitchfork Range beyond, but they had little inclination to contemplate +the majesty of the night. + +“Lookin’ back over my life I can’t say she’s been uh howling success,” +mused Cobalt aloud. “I ain’t never done anything that was exactly wrong, +but someway I jist can’t never seem to be--well, one who was also there, +Slim.” + +“Me and you both,” agreed Slim dolefully. “Seems like I can’t seem to +make people appreciate my efforts. Now, you and me has always done our +dangedest, Cobalt, and what do we git fer it? We’ve always tried to do +our best and I can’t remember uh place yet where we ain’t had to leave +in such uh hurry that we ain’t had uh chance to say-- What th’----!” + +They jumped to their feet. + +“What is it, Slim?” quavered Cobalt. “Am I seein’ things or----” + +“It was,” stated Slim with conviction. “Wait till he makes that last +turn--if he can.” + +Below them on the narrow trail a huge shadow seemed to crawl along +slowly. At times it would halt as if undecided, and then move forward. +Suddenly there was a rattle of loose stones, a muffled squeal and the +shadow vanished. + +Slim turned to Cobalt and removed his hat. + +“_Requiescat in pace_,” he murmured. + +“Me and you both,” agreed Cobalt. “What does that mean, Slim?” + +“That,” replied Slim, “is uh favorite expression among th’ Piegan +Indians. It means ‘All’s well that ends well.’” + + +[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the September 1916 issue of +Adventure magazine.] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78632 *** |