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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78659 ***
+
+                              THE MISDEAL
+
+                              W. C. Tuttle
+
+         Author of “Tramps of the Range,” “Sticky Ropes,” etc.
+
+
+“I tell yuh he did make out a will! You’re danged right he did! That
+day he had Williams, the lawyer, from Broken Butte he made out that
+will. Aw-w-w, ----, you make me tired!”
+
+“Wheezer” Bell spat angrily and hammered his boot-heel against the wall
+of the NR bunk-house. Wheezer was half-inclined to be mad at “Leather”
+Kleig, who was humped up in the shade, his thin, impassive face hidden
+under the brim of his wide sombrero.
+
+“Chet” Wells, a broken-nosed, scar-faced cowboy, was stretched out,
+half in shade, half in sun, chewing a big portion of tobacco; while
+just beyond him sat “Wooden-shoe” Van Dorn, a fat, stolid-faced,
+pig-eyed cowboy.
+
+“You engineered this deal, Leather--” Wheezer stopped hammering the
+bunk-house wall and glared down at the top of Leather’s hat--“and you
+sure raised ---- and put a block under it, if anybody rises from the
+dead to inquire.”
+
+Leather did not look up, but said slowly--
+
+“Wheezer, you’re talkin’ too ---- much!”
+
+“Well, there ain’t no use of talkin’--much,” observed Wooden-shoe
+slowly, “and we don’t want to make trouble among us, do we, Wheezer?”
+
+“Aw, I ain’t huntin’ trouble,” Wheezer assured him, “but we ain’t got a
+---- thing t’ show that the NR owes us a danged thing.”
+
+“True as gospel preachin’,” agreed Chet warmly. “If Leather’d only said
+like this to the old man: You write----”
+
+“Now, you’re gettin’ the tongue-trouble, too, eh?” interrupted Leather
+ominously, but did not look up.
+
+Wheezer shoved away from the wall and stepped around in front of Leather
+Kleig, his thumbs hooked over the top of his cartridge-belt.
+
+“Kleig, if you think for a minute that you can stop me from talkin’--cut
+yore wolf loose.” Wheezer’s voice was pitched low, but was full of
+meaning. “You’ve bossed this outfit too ---- much; _sabe?_ We’ve been
+gypped out of everythin’. Now, put up or shut up.”
+
+Kleig did not move, but his eyes flashed to Wheezer for a second.
+
+“Like I said before,” stated Wooden-shoe impassively, “we shouldn’t
+quarrel among us. Whatcha say, Wheezer? Let’s all be good little friends
+together.”
+
+“Thassall right,” nodded Leather. “I ain’t sayin’ that I didn’t make a
+mistake, but yuh gotta agree that I lose as much as you fellers do.”
+
+“Sure, sure,” agreed Chet indifferently. “I heard the old man tell yuh
+that he was goin’ to sell the NR and split the pot. Yuh can’t blame
+Leather ’cause the old man decides to die off, can yuh, Wheezer?”
+
+“’S far as that’s concerned--no,” admitted Wheezer. “But it sure leaves
+us high and dry, Chet.”
+
+Wooden-shoe suddenly burst into a dry chuckle.
+
+“Now, what in ---- are you laughin’ at?” demanded Chet.
+
+“Just laughin’,” replied Wooden-shoe. “Here we’ve been stealin’
+stock for over a year for old Nick Ralls, and ain’t got nothin’ for
+ourselves.”
+
+“Except experience,” said Wheezer gloomily.
+
+All of which was both sad and true. Many years previous to this time,
+Nick Ralls, an old gun-man of the Southwest, had migrated to the Broken
+Butte ranges and taken up the NR ranch. Nick Ralls was a bitter old
+codger, quick of temper, and very flexible of conscience.
+
+He did not prosper, but made a living. There were few NR cows on the
+Broken Buttes when Leather Kleig, Wheezer Bell, Wooden-shoe Van Dorn
+and Chet Wells rode into the yard of the tumble-down ranch-house and
+informed old Nick that they were both hungry and tired.
+
+The sheriff of the adjoining county lost them in the breaks and went
+home disgusted; but they did not know this. They needed sanctuary, and
+old Nick Ralls gave it to them, because he recognized them as kindred
+spirits.
+
+Old Nick was growing old--raspingly old. The Broken Butte range was a
+fertile field for those who carried a running-iron and little regard
+for the law. And when the adjoining county had practically forgotten
+the four men who attempted to rob the bank at Dry Wells, the four men
+made an oral contract with old Nick Ralls.
+
+Leather Kleig was a brand counterfeiter. His skill with a running-iron
+or razor was uncanny. Combination brands were an open book to him. Every
+animal that fell within their loop or corral was quickly made over into
+an NR, which would pass muster even on close examination, and old Nick
+Ralls chuckled evilly, while his herd grew until the hills of Broken
+Butte range were dotted with his possessions.
+
+Then, as Wheezer described it:
+
+“He ups and dies. And the or’nary old son-of-a-sea-cook knowed he was
+goin’ to die, didn’t he? Then why does he send for a lawyer to make out
+his will?”
+
+All of which was not at all cheerful to the four men in the shade of the
+NR bunk-house.
+
+“Yeah, it leaves us high and dry,” admitted Chet. “We ain’t got nothin’
+to show for all our hard work. If yuh asks my opinion, I’d suggest that
+we all line up, give the word and all start shootin’. If there’s any
+survivor, he can take what money the other fellers has got and pull
+out.”
+
+“Good idea!” exploded Wooden-shoe. “I’d like----”
+
+“You would!” interrupted Wheezer sarcastically. “You ain’t got a danged
+cent to lose. Leather must have about six-bits, which is four-bits more
+than I’ve got. I dunno about Chet, but I reckon two-bits would about tap
+him.”
+
+“Then that idea ain’t so good,” said Chet mournfully. “What’ll we do?
+Brand the NR cows all over and sell them to the sheriff?”
+
+“----, the sheriff!” grunted Leather. “He’s too pious. Goes to church!
+---- deliver me from a church-goin’ sheriff.”
+
+“One thing’s a cinch,” observed Chet thoughtfully. “If them misbranded
+critters are ever discovered, they can’t hang the deadwood on to us. We
+don’t own ’em. And no sensible man ever steals cows as a pastime.”
+
+“I’m through stealin’ cows,” declared Wooden-shoe, emphatically. “I tell
+yuh, I’m through.”
+
+“Reformin’, eh?” sneered Leather Kleig.
+
+“Yeah, I’m goin’ to rob banks or trains--and I’m goin’ to steal for me;
+_sabe?_”
+
+“We’re a ---- of a fine bunch of outlaws,” declared Wheezer. “Bad men
+from Bitter Crick. ----! ’F we don’t look out, some old lady is goin’
+to hoodle us off this range with a parasol.”
+
+    “For his heart was hard and so was his hide,
+    And the rattlesnake crawled away and died,
+    The da-a-a-y he bit Bill Jo-o-o-nes.”
+
+Chet’s voice quavered lovingly on the last line, and his broken nose
+twitched feelingly.
+
+“You can do a lot of things better than yuh can sing,” observed
+Wooden-shoe sadly. “You ought to twist yore ears a little, Chet. Yuh
+sound like a couple of yore strings was loose.”
+
+“Bein’ funny ain’t gittin’ us no place--” Wheezer dug his heel into
+the hard dirt. “What are we goin’ to do? That’s the question. If old
+Ralls didn’t leave no will, I s’pose the whole works will be sold by
+the sheriff.”
+
+“I’d love to set on a fence and see that ---- sheriff sell my cows!”
+exploded Leather.
+
+“What ’d yuh do?” asked Wheezer. “Would yuh tell him how it comes that
+yuh feel bad about it, Leather?”
+
+“Talkin’ makes me hungry,” stated Wooden-shoe. “Let’s go and see what Ma
+Coogan’s got for supper.”
+
+“And that’s another thing,” said Wheezer. “What in ---- is goin’ to
+become of Ma Coogan?”
+
+“Yessir, that’s another thing,” agreed Wooden-shoe.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ma Coogan was the cook and housekeeper of the NR, and was as much a part
+of the ranch as the old ranch-house. She was about sixty years of age;
+thirty of which had been spent in the range country.
+
+Ten years previous to this time, Jim Coogan and his wife had been
+nesters in the Broken Butte range. Nesters were not wanted, and old
+Jim had absorbed a bullet; which left Ma Coogan destitute.
+
+Nick Ralls, whose heart was bitter against everything, and nesters in
+particular, had installed the old widow as cook and housekeeper in the
+NR. He swore at the time that he did not do it to be kind, but to prove
+that he could be contrary to his own nature.
+
+Ma Coogan was a little woman, with a typically Irish face, a heart of
+gold, but with a tongue that proved to Nick Ralls the advisability of
+running his end of the ranch and not interfering with the household.
+
+It was five days since the burial of Nick Ralls, and Ma Coogan was
+beginning to get back to normal. She had never considered what Ralls’
+death might mean to her. She was sitting on the porch, as the four men
+came up to the ranch-house, fanning herself with a magazine.
+
+“Ye’re all hungry, I suppose,” she remarked. “And what have ye done to
+make ye hungry, I’d ask? Are ye goin’ to sit in the shade all the rest
+of your life?”
+
+“Looks kinda like it, Ma,” said Wheezer. “But what’s the use of workin’?
+There’s nobody to pay salaries.”
+
+“Nobody?” Ma Coogan stopped fanning herself. “Nobody to pay--well, bless
+me soul!”
+
+She stared at them and her eyes shifted to the hazy hills, as a sudden
+realization of things came to her.
+
+“I never thought of that,” she said softly. “Nobody to pay salaries,
+nobody to run the ranch. Now, what’s to become of everybody, I’d like
+to know?”
+
+Wheezer shook his head.
+
+“I dunno, Ma. Do you remember that lawyer comin’ up here a couple of
+days before Nick Ralls died?”
+
+“That fat, fish-eyed feller from Broken Butte? Aye, he was with Nick
+Ralls for a long time.”
+
+“He’s a lawyer, Ma. We was wonderin’ if Nick made out a will. He knowed
+he was goin’ to die, I reckon.”
+
+“He did that,” declared Ma. “Belike he heard the banshee wailin’; I
+dunno.”
+
+“What’s a banshee, Ma?” asked Wooden-shoe.
+
+“Sure, it’s an Irish ghost. When ye hear one wailin’, ye’r goin’ to die,
+Wooden-shoe. There’s a lot of thim that has heard the banshee.”
+
+Leather Kleig laughed sarcastically.
+
+“Ghosts! No ghost would wail over Nick Ralls. What I’d like to know: Did
+Nick Ralls make out a will?”
+
+“There was such a thing mentioned,” said Ma slowly. “I heard thim speak
+of a will, and there was a paper that I had to sign me name to, but I
+did not read it.
+
+“This fish-eyed feller he puts his finger on one spot, and he says for
+me to write me name there. Ould Nick says that I’m a witness. I dunno
+what it was all about, but it looked like some sort of a cer-ti-fic-it.”
+
+“That was a will,” declared Wheezer. “Did he ever tell yuh about any of
+his relatives, Ma?”
+
+“He did not, Wheezer. I misdoubt if he had any. But Nick Ralls was no
+man to blather about any one. Hated the world, so he did. He even swore
+at the lawyer. Well, the poor soul has gone to glory, and if I don’t go
+in and finish gittin’ supper, the rest of ye will be failin’ for want
+of food.”
+
+“If Nick Ralls has gone to glory, I hope I don’t,” declared Leather
+Kleig. “He wasn’t entitled to it.”
+
+“Aw, sure, now--” Ma Coogan turned at the doorway and looked down at
+Leather, “ye mustn’t wish ill of a dead man. He wasn’t all bad, Leather.
+Do ye think that God is goin’ to punish ye by sendin’ ye to a hot place?
+What would He gain by it, I’d ask ye? Would it be a lesson to thim that
+stayed behind in this life?
+
+“We wouldn’t see it. A lovin’ God wouldn’t git no satisfaction out of
+it, would He? Thin where is your reasons for a place of damnation, I
+dunno? I tell ye, I think that Nick Ralls went to glory.”
+
+“All right, Ma,” said Leather gloomily. “I hope, if he has, that he can
+look down and see what a ---- fool he was to leave the NR in this kinda
+shape.”
+
+“Amen,” said Ma Coogan piously.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was three days later that Eph Williams, the lawyer from Broken Butte,
+came again to the NR; and with him came Ben Murtch, the sheriff, and a
+lady.
+
+The four cowboys looked with great disfavor upon Ben Murtch and Eph
+Williams, because they had little use for the law in any of its forms.
+But there was a certain amount of speculation regarding the lady.
+
+Murtch was a bandy-legged person, broad-shouldered, and with a massive
+head. His features were of the type commonly known as bulldog, and he
+was reputed fast with a gun. On account of their wild doings in Broken
+Butte, Murtch had no use for the boys of the NR--and did not conceal
+his feelings.
+
+Both Murtch and Williams attended the little church at Broken Butte, and
+at times Williams would pass the collection plate. The four cowboys from
+the NR went to church one Sunday night, more out of curiosity than from
+piety, and observed the actions of Williams and Murtch.
+
+Hence Leather Kleig’s remark of--
+
+“Lord deliver me from a church-goin’ sheriff.”
+
+Williams, Murtch and the lady came out to the ranch in a top-buggy, and
+went straight to the ranch-house. The four cowboys sat at the bunk-house
+and speculated as to who the lady might be, until Murtch left the house
+and came down to see them.
+
+“Howdy, boys,” he greeted them pleasantly, but they were not receptive
+to his greeting.
+
+He stopped near them and hitched up his belt.
+
+“Thought yuh might like to know who the lady is,” he remarked.
+
+“Yeah?” Wheezer squinted sideways at him. “Yuh thought so, did yuh?”
+
+“Yeah, I thought yuh would.”
+
+“Reckon we ought to take a vote on it?” questioned Chet.
+
+“That,” said Murtch, not a bit perturbed over their indifference, “that
+is Miss Jane Cleveland, who owns this ranch, lock, stock and barrel.”
+
+“Oh, yeah!” Wheezer nodded quickly. “That’s who she is, eh?”
+
+“Yeah, that’s her.”
+
+“Who’s she?” Wooden-shoe hugged his knees and grinned at Murtch.
+
+“That’s a ---- of a question,” declared Murtch.
+
+“It’s a good question, and there ought to be an answer layin’ around
+somewhere.”
+
+Eph Williams was coming down from the house, and Murtch decided to wait
+and let him explain things.
+
+“Fish-eye,” chuckled Wheezer. “Shore fits him.”
+
+The rest of the cowboys grinned, and Eph looked uncomfortable, even if
+he did not know what had been said.
+
+“Did you tell ’em, Murtch?” asked Williams. His voice was rather husky,
+as if suffering from a heavy cold.
+
+“I left the job to you,” said Murtch. “You sabe it better than I do.”
+
+“I sure as ---- hope he does,” growled Leather.
+
+“Well, it is simple,” smiled Williams. “Miss Cleveland just arrived from
+Helena to take charge of this ranch. Just before Nick Ralls passed on he
+had me make out his will. Miss Cleveland is the daughter of his only
+sister, and the only living relative of Nick Ralls. He had kept track of
+her all these years, and when he felt that his days were numbered, he
+sent for me, made out his will, and--” Williams spread his hands--“that
+is all there is to it.”
+
+“Well, now, that’s quite a lot,” admitted Leather, and the other three
+cowboys knew what he meant.
+
+“Miss Cleveland knows nothing about cattle,” stated Williams, “but she
+was more than willing to take charge. I do not know whether she will
+retain any or all of you boys. I have made no suggestions. As far as I
+can see there is no use of having four cowboys to handle the cattle,
+but I am leaving it to her to do things to suit herself.”
+
+“That’s ---- kind of yuh, I’m sure,” applauded Chet. “What did you say
+your business was?”
+
+“I am an attorney-at-law,” said Williams stiffly.
+
+“Oh, yeah--a lawyer?”
+
+“Don’t waste words on ’em, Eph,” advised Murtch. “They’re tryin’ to get
+under your hide.”
+
+“Wouldn’t be under it for the world,” denied Chet. “I’d smother t’ death
+in a minute.”
+
+Williams whirled on his heel and went back toward the horse and buggy,
+walking stiff-legged, like an angry bear. Murtch looked after him and
+turned to the grinning cowboys.
+
+“You fellers likely don’t know that Williams will have quite a lot to
+say about this place, do yuh? He’s goin’ to advise Miss Cleveland on
+business matters.”
+
+“Lord help her,” said Wheezer sadly.
+
+Murtch scowled and turned away, starting back to where Williams was
+getting into the buggy.
+
+“You didn’t tell us what your business is,” reminded Wooden-shoe.
+
+Murtch grunted something unintelligible, but did not turn his head.
+
+They drove down past the bunk-house, on their way out of the ranch, but
+neither of them looked at the four grinning cowboys on the steps.
+
+“A heiress,” said Wheezer dolefully. “A blasted heiress to our cows!”
+
+“And a fish-eyed lawyer advisin’ her what to do with them,” added Chet.
+“If somebody’d stick a fork into us they’d find us well done.”
+
+Chet got to his feet and executed a double-shuffle on the steps, while
+he sang sadly:
+
+    “Oh, Williams, yo’re a ----
+    Oh, Williams, yo’re a bum;
+    There’s nothin’ good about you,
+    And yore breath sure smells of rum.
+    Yo’re killin’ us by inches,
+    I know I am yore slave
+    But when you die, you son-of-a-gun,
+    I’ll dance upon yore grave.”
+
+“That record sounds scratched,” observed Wheezer dryly. “Sounds like
+a Injun with hay-fever, tryin’ to give a imitation of C’ruso singin’
+soprano.”
+
+“Aw, ----!” Leather Kleig snorted his disgust and got to his feet.
+“Let’s go and meet the new boss.”
+
+“Mebbe she’ll appreciate my voice,” said Chet hopefully. “I’ll take a
+chance.”
+
+“I’ll shoot yuh, if yuh try singin’ to her,” threatened Wheezer, as they
+trooped to the ranch-house.
+
+“Aw, he won’t make no never mind,” assured Wooden-shoe. “I hope he
+yodels and busts his windpipe.”
+
+“What’s a yodel?” asked Wheezer.
+
+Wooden-shoe stopped, pointed his nose toward the sky and began:
+
+“_Hi-i-i lee-e-e-e o la lay-ee-e-e--_ Leggo! Ouch!”
+
+Wheezer and Chet had moved in swiftly beside him, each grabbing him by
+collar and boot and dumped him unceremoniously on top of his head. Then
+they let go at the same time and his heels hit the ground with a thud.
+
+For a moment, Wooden-shoe’s breath was jarred from his body, and he lay
+there goggling at the sky.
+
+“I hope he isn’t injured.”
+
+The cowboys turned and stared at Jane Cleveland, who was standing on the
+porch, staring at Wooden-shoe, who sat up and puffed the atmosphere back
+into his lungs. He saw her and tried to laugh.
+
+“No, ma’am,” said Wheezer foolishly. “You can’t hurt him.”
+
+Wheezer had removed his hat, and now he stepped over, lifted
+Wooden-shoe’s hat off his head and placed it in his lap.
+
+Jane Cleveland was a stately brunette, well-dressed, possibly
+twenty-five years of age. There was no question of her beauty, but it
+was marred a trifle by the superiority of her manner. She might well
+have been a queen, looking down upon them; making them feel rather
+out of place before her. Her lips lifted slightly in a semblance of a
+smile at Wheezer’s rough wit.
+
+“You are the cowboys, I suppose?”
+
+“Yes’m, I s’pose we are,” nodded Chet.
+
+He looked at the other three and back at the girl.
+
+“Yes’m, I’m sure of it now. Get up, Wooden-shoe. My gosh, you ain’t got
+no manners a-tall.”
+
+“You’re Miss Cleveland, I s’pose,” observed Leather.
+
+It was a perfect imitation of her question, and her eyes hardened
+slightly.
+
+“Yes, I am Miss Cleveland, the owner of this farm.”
+
+“My ----!” breathed Chet. “Farm!”
+
+Ma Coogan had come out of the door, and Miss Cleveland turned.
+
+“Was there something you wanted?”
+
+“Nothin’, me dear,” said Ma Coogan.
+
+“Then I think your place is in the kitchen--not on the veranda.”
+
+Ma Coogan looked wonderingly at Miss Cleveland.
+
+“Would ye mind sayin’ that again?”
+
+“Are you not the cook?”
+
+Miss Cleveland’s voice was icy.
+
+“Yes, I’m the cook.”
+
+“There is nothing to cook out here.”
+
+“Well--” Ma Coogan swallowed painfully and looked appealingly at the
+four cowboys--“well, I s’pose that’s right. I never thought of that--in
+ten years.”
+
+She turned and went back into the house. Leather Kleig cleared his
+throat, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, but Wheezer trod heavily on
+the side of his ankle and saved Leather from saying the wrong thing.
+
+“I have not made up my mind what I am going to do with this place.”
+Miss Cleveland was talking, but the four boys were still staring at
+the doorway where Ma Coogan had disappeared and paid no attention to
+her.
+
+“I would like to know just what I inherited from my uncle. Can you
+give me an estimate of how many cows, horses, etc., are included in
+this ranch?”
+
+“Well--” Wheezer scratched his head thoughtfully--“that’s kinda hard,
+ma’am. There won’t be no round-up for a month, and ’till we kinda
+bunches them cows there ain’t no way of tellin’.”
+
+“Didja know yore uncle very well?” asked Wooden-shoe.
+
+“No, I never have seen him.”
+
+“He didn’t have much sense, ma’am.”
+
+“Is that so?” Miss Cleveland seemed indifferent to that statement.
+
+“You goin’ to run the ranch yoreself, ma’am?” asked Leather.
+
+“I suppose I will. Mr. Williams, the lawyer, will advise me in some
+of the details, and Mr. Murtch has offered his services at any time.
+Is there any reason why I cannot handle it?”
+
+“Not with all that help--” Leather shook his head. “Of course you’ve got
+to hire some cowboys.”
+
+“Naturally. Mr. Williams said that I could probably get along with less
+hired help than my uncle did. In fact, they informed me that every one
+wondered how uncle managed to make the ranch pay, with four cowboys in
+his employ.”
+
+“Yeah, it is a wonder,” agreed Leather softly. “Yuh see, he hired us
+by the year and died two days before payday. This ranch owes us each
+four hundred and eighty dollars apiece.”
+
+“Four hundred and eighty dollars apiece?”
+
+“Yes’m,” said Wheezer grinning widely and making some rapid
+calculations. “The old NR owes us four punchers the grand total of
+nineteen hundred and twenty dollars.”
+
+Wooden-shoe blinked and wet his lips with his tongue. He was a willing
+but slow liar, and he marveled at Leather telling a thing like that.
+
+“And we sure worked faithful-like,” added Chet sadly. “A year’s a long
+time to go without a payday. ’Course the ranch is good for it, ma’am;
+so we ain’t worryin’.”
+
+“Well,” said Miss Cleveland dubiously, “I know nothing about such
+things, but I shall take it up with Mr. Williams.”
+
+“And Ma Coogan kinda got the worst of it,” said Wheezer mournfully. “Yuh
+see, when she goes to work for yore uncle, he says to her--
+
+“ ‘If you work for me for ten years without pay, I’ll give yuh enough to
+keep yuh for the rest of yore life.’
+
+“Well, she’s sure worked faithfully, y’betcha. It ain’t no cinch runnin’
+her end of the job. Now, she’s old and can’t land no other job, but I
+reckon you’ll see that she gets what old Nick Ralls promised her.”
+
+“But I know nothing about these things,” protested Miss Cleveland. “Is
+there any agreement--a written agreement, I mean?”
+
+“Shucks, folks use their word instead of ink out here,” said Leather.
+“We’ve all heard Nick tell what he was goin’ to do for Ma Coogan. Why,
+jist the other day he says to me, like this--
+
+“ ‘Leather, if anythin’ happens to me, will you see that Ma Coogan gits
+what’s comin’ to her?’
+
+“I told him that I sure would, ma’am.”
+
+“Why wasn’t she mentioned in the will?”
+
+“I’ll tell yuh why, ma’am.” Chet moved in closer and lowered his voice.
+“Old Nick Ralls wasn’t in his right mind. He heard the banshee wailin’.”
+
+“The--what do you mean?” Miss Cleveland frowned slightly. “What did he
+hear?”
+
+“A banshee wailin’. There’s lot of ’em, ma’am. When yuh hear one, yuh
+might as well practise up on some kind of a harp, ’cause yuh ain’t got
+no chance left.”
+
+“I do not think I understand--nor care. By the way, I do not know your
+names.”
+
+“I’m Wheezer Bell,” Wheezer indicated himself. “That’s Leather Kleig.
+Got his front name from reachin’ for a saddle-horn so often. This’n,”
+pointing at Chet, “this’n is Chet Wells. He’s old man Wells’ son.
+That other one is Wooden-shoe Van Dorn, the only Dutch cowpuncher in
+captivity. He can squeak like a windmill, and he wakes up yelling at
+night, thinkin’ that the dykes have busted.”
+
+“Thank you very much.”
+
+She turned and went into the house.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The four cowboys looked at each other and went back to the bunk-house,
+where they draped themselves in the shade and stared at each other.
+
+“Leather,” said Wheezer softly, “yo’re the first ---- liar I ever loved.
+But can we work that idea?”
+
+“Who in ---- can say that we lied?” queried Chet. “Nick Ralls never kept
+no books.”
+
+“I dunno--” Leather shook his head sadly--“I’m a son-of-a-gun if I
+ever seen a look on anybody’s face like there was on Ma’s, when Miss
+Cleveland ordered her back to the kitchen.”
+
+“Aw, that was too bad,” nodded Wheezer, “and Ma took it, too.”
+
+“Yeah, and we better kinda look a little out,” said Wooden-shoe. “She’d
+fire the whole bunch of us. There wasn’t no use lyin’ about Ma Coogan.
+Us liars can stick together, but Ma wouldn’t back us up.”
+
+“She’s goin’ to be advised by Williams and helped by Murtch,” mused
+Leather aloud; “I dunno----”
+
+He shook his head sadly and began manufacturing a cigaret.
+
+“---- old Nick Ralls!” exploded Chet.
+
+“He sure had a cause to keep away from his relation,” said Wheezer.
+“That woman ain’t got no heart, don’tcha know it?”
+
+“Pretty ones hardly ever do have,” said Leather.
+
+“You’ve knowed so many of them,” grinned Chet.
+
+“I betcha she won’t eat at the table with us,” offered Wooden-shoe. “I
+betcha she makes Ma set a table in the front room for her.”
+
+“I sure hope she does,” declared Chet. “If she don’t--we will. By golly,
+she’s pretty, though.”
+
+“Yore rope’s draggin’,” cautioned Wheezer.
+
+“Well, suppose it is, I didn’t say I was stuck on her, did I?”
+
+“I suppose Wooden-shoe will be makin’ love to her pretty quick,” said
+Leather.
+
+“No sir,” Wooden-shoe shook his head vehemently and his face flushed
+hotly. “I stole cows for a year for her, and that’s enough. She can’t
+expect too much.”
+
+Ma Coogan’s hammering of the steel triangle, which hung at the
+kitchen-door, broke up the meeting, and the four cowboys trooped to
+the rear of the kitchen to wash up for supper.
+
+There was no sign of the new owner, and Ma Coogan was strangely silent.
+Even the cowboys ate silently, which was unusual.
+
+“My ----!” grunted Wheezer. “You’d think somebody done died around
+here.”
+
+“Somethin’ has, I reckon,” whispered Chet seriously, and Ma Coogan shook
+her head warningly at him.
+
+At the conclusion of the meal, which none of them enjoyed, Leather
+Kleig drew Ma Coogan out of the back door, while the others grouped
+close around them.
+
+“Ma,” said Leather, “did you know that Nick Ralls told you that, if yuh
+stayed here ten years, he’d fix yuh up so yuh wouldn’t have to work no
+more?”
+
+She squinted at Leather and around at the other cowboys wonderingly.
+
+“You know he said that, don’tcha, Ma?” asked Chet.
+
+“Well, bless my soul! Where did ye ever get that strange idea?”
+
+“That’s what he told me.”
+
+Leather Kleig was serious enough to have been telling the truth.
+
+“Nick Ralls told ye that, Leather?”
+
+“Honest Injun, Ma.”
+
+“Well, I dunno--” Ma looked vacantly around. “That’s news, so it is.
+I’ve niver heard--sure, you’re jokin’, now.”
+
+“Ma, look here.” Wheezer put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been here
+ten years, workin’ hard. Did yuh ever think what Nick Ralls’ death would
+mean to you? This here lady boss ain’t noways human. She’d fire her own
+father. If she lets yuh out--what’ll become of yuh, Ma?”
+
+Ma Coogan gasped slightly and shook her head.
+
+“Sure, I--I dunno, boys. Why, the old ranch has been a home and I niver
+thought of bein’ fired. I--I’d hate to leave--here. But,” she lifted her
+head and smiled around at them, “sure, there’s no use of borryin’ a lot
+of trouble. The things ye worry the most about never happen.”
+
+“Jist the same it’s wise to have your gun loaded,” observed Wheezer.
+“We was jist wonderin’ if yuh knowed what Nick Ralls intended to give
+yuh. We supposed that you knowed all about it, ’cause he told us.”
+
+Ma Coogan looked straight into Wheezer’s eyes, and he turned away under
+her steady gaze.
+
+“Ye’r’ a lovable liar, Wheezer,” she said softly, “but ye can’t fool
+old Ma Coogan. Sure, it’s nice of ye all, but ye know well that Nick
+Ralls niver had any such foolish ideas.”
+
+Wheezer shuffled his feet nervously and shoved his hands deep into his
+pockets.
+
+“Ma, we’re tryin’ to get a square-deal, thassall. If that fish-eyed
+lawyer asks yuh about it, would yuh mind just askin’ him if it ain’t
+in the will?”
+
+“In the will?”
+
+“Yeah. You don’t have to tell no lie, Ma. If he starts jawin’ around,
+which he will, just ask him that, will yuh?”
+
+“Sure, I dunno what good it’ll do, but I’ll ask him.”
+
+“Where’s the beautiful princess?” asked Wooden-shoe.
+
+“Eatin’ in her own room. She’ll have her breakfast in bed, so she
+says--at tin o’clock. She asked me if you boys were fair samples of
+cowboys, and I told her that the NR niver hired samples.
+
+“Thin,” Ma Coogan lowered her voice, “she asked me what a cattle-rustler
+was, and I told her it was a cowpuncher out of work. She said she’d have
+more respect, or there’d be four cattle-rustlers lookin’ for new
+positions. Sure, that’s what she said--‘positions’.”
+
+Leather grinned and shook his head--
+
+“She’s goin’ to be advised by the fish-eyed lawyer, Ma.”
+
+“Thin, may God help the old ranch!” Ma exclaimed piously.
+
+“It’ll sure need somethin’ from the outside,” said Wheezer sadly. “Don’t
+forget what you’ve got to say to him, Ma. It won’t be lyin’.”
+
+Ma nodded and went back into the kitchen, while the four cowboys went
+back to the bunk-house.
+
+“Suppose we can’t make that stick with the lawyer; what’ll we do?” asked
+Wooden-shoe.
+
+“Do?” Leather Kleig flung one of his boots across the rough floor and
+wiggled his toes through a hole in his sock. “What’ll we do? By ----,
+we stole most of them NR cows for Nick Ralls, didn’t we? Then what in
+---- is goin’ to stop us from stealin’ ’em from the NR?”
+
+“Not me,” Wooden-shoe shook his head quickly. “I’m a re-formed
+cattle-rustler, by gosh! From now on, I don’t rob nothin’ but stages
+and banks.”
+
+“You goin’ to Broken Butte tomorrow, Leather?” asked Wheezer.
+
+“What for? We ain’t even got enough money to play a game of seven-up.”
+
+“Mebbyso we will have. Clay Hardy offered me fifty for that glass-eyed
+sorrel a week ago, but I wanted a hundred. Mebbe he’ll be wantin’ sixty
+dollars worth tomorrow, and if he does--that’s fifteen apiece.”
+
+“I sabe a roulette system,” declared Wooden-shoe. “It’s a cinch. All yuh
+do----”
+
+“Make it twenty apiece for three of us,” interrupted Leather. “That’s a
+better system than Wooden-shoe’s.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The town of Broken Butte was a county seat, but, outside of that
+fact it had little to boast about. Perhaps there were a few more
+false-fronted buildings than in the average Western cow-town;
+perhaps it was a little hotter in Summer and colder in Winter; but
+it was still a weather-beaten, hitch-rack decorated, dusty-streeted
+cow-town.
+
+There was the usual array of restaurants, where the inner man might be
+well appeased for two-bits. The fact that there were two livery-stables
+rather lifted Broken Butte out of the mediocre class, but its chief
+claim to distinction was the Shoshone Saloon, where wine, women and song
+brought surcease from range-land sorrows, and kept the cowboys broke but
+contented.
+
+“Battler” Morgan owned the Shoshone, a pugnacious jaw, one cauliflower
+ear and a memory of the days when men fought with bare knuckles. He
+could throw a bottle almost as straight as a cowboy could shoot a
+gun--but not quite.
+
+He had found this out to his sorrow, when he essayed to bounce a bottle
+off the head of Wheezer Bell. Wheezer had incurred Battler’s displeasure
+by slamming a bullet into the bottle, in mid-air. The bottle was coming
+toward Wheezer, but the .45 bullet caused it to sort of evaporate, and
+the neck of the bottle boomeranged into Battler’s front teeth.
+
+Wheezer admitted that he shot at the bottle, which the rest of the NR
+gang knew to be a mistake, but it established Wheezer as a bad man to
+monkey with. Battler bought some “store” teeth and quit throwing
+bottles at gunmen.
+
+Eph Williams owned an office on the main street, and he was climbing
+into a top-buggy when the four cowboys rode in from the NR ranch.
+Williams sighed with relief as he drove out of town.
+
+He had no wish to meet these four men. He knew, to his sorrow, that they
+did not respect him in the least, and he secretly wished that they might
+be hailed into court, charged with a serious offense.
+
+For Eph Williams, in spite of the fact that he passed the collection
+plate at church, did not “Do unto others as you would have others do
+unto you.” These four men laughed at him, and he did not like that.
+He had often wondered why Nick Ralls hired these four men. One day he
+had asked Nick Ralls regarding them, and Nick Ralls had told him that
+it was none of his adjectived business.
+
+The four cowboys watched Eph Williams drive out of town, and Chet wailed
+over the fact that they would not be at the ranch to greet him.
+
+“We’d take off his wheels and make him walk home.”
+
+“Yeah, and have him advise Cleopatra to fire us,” said Wheezer. “You
+ain’t got a ---- bit of fi-ness.”
+
+“That’s a nice word to call a friend,” said Chet accusingly. “You go and
+sell that wall-eyed cayuse to ‘Clay’ Hardy, professor.”
+
+“Yeah, you do that,” agreed Leather. “But if yuh see that bat-headed
+Murtch, don’t antagonize him. He’s in cahoots with Williams.”
+
+“Rope’s draggin’!” Wheezer whispered warningly.
+
+Leather turned quickly and saw Murtch standing within five feet of him.
+He had come out of the Shoshone Saloon while they were talking. There
+was not the slightest doubt but what Murtch had heard what Leather Kleig
+had said, but his face told them nothing.
+
+“All right, I’ll go and find Clay,” said Wheezer. Then to Murtch--
+
+“Is Clay at the office?”
+
+Clay Hardy was Murtch’s deputy; a vile-tempered, pasty-faced individual,
+who was reputed to be the best rifle-shot in the country, in spite of
+the fact that he was of the jerky, nervous type.
+
+“I reckon he’s there,” replied Murtch softly, and walked past them,
+going across the street.
+
+Wheezer led the sorrel down the street toward the sheriff’s office,
+while the other three cowboys went into the Shoshone, to wait for
+Wheezer to bring them funds enough for a little riotous living.
+
+There was little warmth in Battler Morgan’s reception, but he did invite
+them to have a drink.
+
+“What’sa matter with it?” asked Chet wonderingly.
+
+“With what?” asked Battler.
+
+“Yore liquor,” explained Chet. “You givin’ it away, kinda makes me
+wonder. How’s tricks, Battler?”
+
+“All right,” growled Battler. He was not very quick witted. “Whatcha
+drinkin’?”
+
+“I’ll smoke a see-gar,” stated Wooden-shoe. “Gift whisky hurts my
+stummick. Got any of them two-bit Flor de Loco Weeds? Yuh know what I
+mean--them dusty ones.”
+
+“Never look a gift see-gar in the dust,” advised Leather, leaning across
+the bar and studying the labels on some dusty-looking case-goods.
+
+“Well, name your drinks,” said Battler impatiently.
+
+“W-h-i-t-e S-e-a-l,” spelled Leather. “What’s that--sody-water,
+Battler?”
+
+“Champagne,” gruffly.
+
+“I’ll take a chance on her,” nodded Leather.
+
+“Yuh will? At ten dollars per bottle?”
+
+“Well, ain’t we yore friends?” asked Chet. “Ten per bottle ain’t nothin’
+between friends, ’specially when we’ve got a lady boss. Didja hear about
+it, Battler?”
+
+Battler nodded.
+
+“Murtch was tellin’ me. What you jaspers goin’ to do for a job?”
+
+“Work for the NR,” replied Leather dryly, motioning for the bartender to
+open a bottle of champagne.
+
+“Want me to open a bottle, Battler?”
+
+The bartender wanted official sanction.
+
+“No!” snapped Battler. “I ain’t wastin’ champagne on cowpunchers.
+Whisky’s good enough.”
+
+“Not for me, it ain’t,” declared Leather, turning his back on the bar.
+“Battler won’t treat us right, ’cause he thinks we ain’t got nothin’ to
+spend in his danged place.”
+
+“You fellers ain’t had no pay-day.”
+
+Battler was so old in the liquor business that he did not mind admitting
+a lack of enthusiasm in treating men who were broke.
+
+“Did yuh ever know us to have a pay-day?” asked Chet.
+
+Battler thought it over and shook his head.
+
+“No, I don’t think I have. You fellers has spent money, but I never
+heard yuh mention pay-day.”
+
+“You remember that, will yuh?” asked Leather, but before Battler could
+ask a reason for remembering such a trifling thing, Wheezer came
+bustling in, kicking his spurred heels on the floor.
+
+“Hookum cow!” he chortled, executing a very poor jig-step. “Nailed Clay
+for seventy dollars.”
+
+He pulled the money out of his chaps pocket and piled it on the bar.
+
+“Are you a sport?” queried Leather.
+
+“Dang right!” exploded Wheezer. “Gimme action.”
+
+Leather poked a ten-dollar gold piece out of the pile and shoved it
+across the bar.
+
+“Give me that bottle of champagne.”
+
+The bartender handed it across to him, while Wheezer leaned in close and
+peered at the dusty, long-necked bottle.
+
+“Whazzat?” he asked curiously.
+
+“This?” Leather patted the bottle. “This is the drink of kings,
+Wheezer.”
+
+He took out his knife and inserted the blade under the wired top.
+
+Wheezer glanced at the cash register and blinked at Leather.
+
+“Ten dollars for a little bottle? My ----, what’s in it?”
+
+_Pwhop!_
+
+The cork hit Wheezer in the mouth, and most of the champagne struck
+him in the chest. Leather tried to hold his hand over the neck of
+the bottle, with the result that a stream of the liquor shot square
+into Wooden-shoe’s face. A shift of the hand shot the stream up into
+Leather’s face and he dropped the bottle on the floor.
+
+Wheezer wiped his sleeve across his face and looked down at the bottle.
+He scooped up the rest of the money and stuffed it into his pocket.
+
+“Yo’re all through playin’ king with my money,” he announced.
+
+“You don’t open champagne like that,” explained the bartender chokingly.
+“You put a towel over----”
+
+“Aw-w-w, ----!” snapped Leather. “I’ve opened lots of it.”
+
+“Yeah, there was quite a lot in that bottle,” admitted Chet, feeling of
+his sticky shirt collar. “Kind of a magic bottle, ain’t they?”
+
+“I’ll open a bottle,” announced Battler joyfully. “I’ll show yuh how
+it’s done.”
+
+“After we’re gone, Battler--not now--” Wheezer was very emphatic--“I’ve
+swallowed a cork and I smell like I’d had a bath in hard cider. If yuh
+want to treat, I’ll take a see-gar.”
+
+The other three nodded dismally and accepted an ancient cigar on the
+house, which they discarded after a puff or two in favor of a Durham
+cigaret. Wheezer relented and split his money among them, after which
+they wooed the goddess of chance in their own ways.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was about three hours later that Eph Williams drove back to Broken
+Butte. It was only five miles to the NR ranch, which was far enough to
+give him a chance to cool his anger against the four cowboys.
+
+He took his horse and buggy to the livery-stable and went back to his
+little office. Murtch had seen him, and wended his way to Williams’
+office, where he found Williams in a vile mood. Murtch sat down and
+waited for Williams to cool down. These two understood each other very
+well.
+
+“What’s the matter?” queried Murtch. “You act all het up, Eph.”
+
+“Aw, ----!” exploded Eph, kicking a perfectly good law book off the
+corner of his desk, that he might have a resting-place for his feet.
+
+“I just came in from the NR, and I find out that them four punchers are
+claiming that Ralls agreed to pay them once a year, and that the NR owes
+them four hundred and eighty dollars apiece.”
+
+“That’s a ---- of a thing to claim!” exclaimed Murtch indignantly. “Why,
+they can’t----”
+
+“That ain’t all, Murtch. Miss Cleveland told me that Nick Ralls had
+promised old lady Coogan that he was going to settle enough money on
+her, after she had been there ten years, to keep her the rest of her
+life. And she’s been there just ten years.”
+
+“Of all the ---- fool things I ever heard!”
+
+“Nick Ralls never kept any books. There ain’t a scratch of a pen to show
+how he run his ranch.”
+
+“But they can’t git away with anythin’ like that,” protested Murtch.
+“There ain’t nobody runs a ranch that way, Eph.”
+
+“Them four claim a total of nineteen hundred and twenty dollars,” said
+Eph thoughtfully. “That’s a ---- of a lot of money, Murtch.”
+
+“Ain’t she goin’ to fire ’em, Eph?”
+
+“I suppose.”
+
+Eph got to his feet and walked over to the door. Wheezer and Chet were
+coming across the street and their legs seemed a trifle unsecure. Eph
+opened the door and scowled at them.
+
+“H’lo,” greeted Wheezer owlishly. “We’re after some legal advice.”
+
+“Legal advice, eh?”
+
+Williams squinted at them closely, but, in spite of the fact that they
+had been drinking, they seemed deadly serious.
+
+Murtch came to the door and looked at the cowboys, who grinned widely at
+him.
+
+“H’lo, sheriff!”
+
+Wheezer cuffed his hat on to one side of his head and grinned wickedly.
+
+“Whazza matter? You in trouble, too?”
+
+“Not that anybody knows about,” retorted Murtch.
+
+“Oh--” Wheezer’s lips formed a perfect O and he nodded wisely. “Not
+that anybody knows about, eh? Well, I s’pose it ain’t right to expose
+yoreself, but me and Chet are open and above-board in everythin’, ain’t
+we, Chettie?”
+
+“Oh, very much so,” nodded Chet. “We don’t have no mustache to deceive
+the eye.”
+
+Murtch grunted angrily and hooked his thumb over his belt above his
+holster. But this action did not frighten the two cowboys.
+
+“He’s half-way home after his gun,” observed Chet wisely.
+
+“Just what did you want to know?” asked Williams.
+
+He knew that this talk was only leading up to trouble, and he wanted to
+avoid it if possible.
+
+“Li’l point of law,” explained Wheezer.
+
+“Me ’n Chet has had a argument about lawyers, don’tcha see?”
+
+“What was the argument?”
+
+“Well--” Wheezer cuffed his hat sideways again and grew very
+solemn--“well, this was the argument: I said that lawyers was predatory
+animals, but Chet argues that there must be a open and a closed season
+on ’em. Me ’n Chet don’t want to break no game laws.”
+
+Williams’s lips tightened and his face flushed. He was fighting mad, but
+his better judgment told him to move carefully. Murtch swore under his
+breath and looked away, but Williams said nothing, as he turned slowly
+and went back into the office.
+
+“There ain’t no answer,” said Chet softly.
+
+“Betcha he’s gone to look in a book. Lawyers always have to look into
+books, Chettie.”
+
+“My advice to you fellers would be--” began Murtch angrily, but Wheezer
+interrupted with--
+
+“Nobody asked you for advice, Murtch.”
+
+“And nobody, if they’ve got any brains, ever will,” added Chet.
+
+“Is that so? Lemme tell you fellers somethin’. Broken Butte is tired of
+you four jaspers from the NR, and if you want to get away with a whole
+hide, yuh better move fast.”
+
+“My ----, you frighten me!” squeaked Wheezer. “My tonsils are weak and
+any sudden shock makes me choke all up.”
+
+“Aw, that’s too bad,” wailed Chet sadly. “Broken Butte is all through
+with us, Wheezer, don’tcha know it. Just like the song:
+
+    “Out in thish wide wor-r-rld alo-o-one,
+    Nothin’ but sorrow I see-e-e-e;
+    I’m-m-m nobody’s dar-r-rling,
+    Nobody car-r-r-res for me-e-e-e.”
+
+Chet’s unmusical voice clung lovingly to the last notes and his eyes
+closed with ecstasy. Murtch snorted his indignation and walked swiftly
+away toward his office, both hands clenched around his cartridge-belt,
+while Wheezer sat down on the wooden sidewalk and shook with unholy
+mirth.
+
+“What’s so ---- funny about it?” demanded Chet. “That’s a sad song,
+ain’t it? Somebody has to tell yuh when to cry. My, my! Yo’re ignorant,
+cowboy.”
+
+Leather came out of the Shoshone and crossed the street to them. He was
+perfectly sober and his thin lips were tightly drawn, as if suppressing
+a grin.
+
+“I tapped the old roulette for a hundred and fifty,” he informed them.
+“And Wooden-shoe has corralled most of the chips in the stud-poker game.
+C’mon.”
+
+“Where yuh goin’?” demanded Wheezer.
+
+“Clerk and Recorder’s office. I’m goin’ to take a look at old Nick
+Ralls’ will.”
+
+“Why spoil a perfec’ day? We jist insulted Williams and Murtch.”
+
+“We hope we did,” amended Chet, “but I doubt it.”
+
+“All right,” nodded Leather. “Go ahead and get us all fired.”
+
+The clerk’s office was located at the north end of the town. Broken
+Butte had never been financially able to build a court house; so the
+county offices were badly scattered.
+
+The clerk showed them the recorded will, and even volunteered to read it
+to them. It was short and to the point.
+
+“Bein’ in good health and sound of mind, eh?” grinned Leather, as the
+clerk finished reading. “That danged old gopher never was sound of
+mind. Leaves all his earthly possessions to Miss Jane Cleveland, his
+niece, who is his only known living relative.”
+
+“I understand that she has taken possession,” remarked the clerk.
+
+“Yo’re danged right she has,” grinned Wheezer. “Man, she’s sure took
+right hold of the old ranch.”
+
+They left the clerk’s office and started down the street. The stage was
+just driving up to the front of the general merchandise store, in which
+the post-office was located, and the three cowboys stopped to watch a
+newcomer disgorge himself from the interior of the dusty stage.
+
+He was of medium height, slender of build and well dressed. His
+olive-tinted face was handsome, in spite of its lines of dissipation,
+and his tiny black mustache was waxed to needle-like points.
+
+He dusted himself off with his hands, paid the driver his fare and
+watched him unpack two valises off the boot of the stage. He looked
+at the three cowboys and a flash of recognition crossed his face, but
+he turned back to the driver, picked up his valises and went down the
+side-walk toward the Broken Butte hotel.
+
+“You know that dude _hombre_, Leather?” asked Wheezer.
+
+“Yeah. That’s the crookedest gambler unhung. I dunno who he is now, but
+when I knew him in Sunset City he was called ‘Spade’ Hollister.”
+
+“Here comes Wooden-shoe,” said Chet. “He’s grinnin’; so I betcha he made
+a cleanup, too.”
+
+“Hundred and eighty dollars,” announced Wooden-shoe joyfully. “Such an
+easy game to beat.”
+
+“Let’s go home,” suggested Leather. “This town ain’t noways friendly,
+and I’m kinda curious to know what the beautiful maiden has done to the
+NR since we left.”
+
+“Go home--now!” Wooden-shoe was explosively surprized. “And me with a
+hundred and eighty?”
+
+“Ain’t noways fair to the heathen,” admitted Chet.
+
+“All right, I’m goin’,” announced Leather, starting toward the
+hitch-rack.
+
+“I’ll trail yore bet, Leather.”
+
+Wheezer turned and followed Leather, but Chet and Wooden-shoe laughed
+derisively at such a foolish move, and went back to the Shoshone Saloon.
+That hundred and eighty dollars was burning a hole in Wooden-shoe’s
+pocket, and the fact that Broken Butte was hostile to him made not the
+slightest difference.
+
+Leather and Wheezer went back to the ranch. Miss Cleveland was sitting
+on the ranch-house porch, as they rode past, and motioned for them to
+stop. They dismounted and came up to her.
+
+“Mr. Williams was here this morning, and I spoke to him in regards to
+your yearly salaries,” she stated evenly. “He said that your claims
+were absurd. I quite agree with him. We have decided to pay you each
+forty dollars and dispense with your services, beginning tomorrow.
+
+“Mr. Williams will be here in the morning and pay you off, I believe.
+I also spoke to him regarding Mrs. Coogan, and her claims, and he said
+that such a thing would be impossible.”
+
+“Yeah, I see,” nodded Leather absently. “Williams is takin’ quite a lot
+upon himself, ain’t he, ma’am?”
+
+“He is handling the legal matter for me.”
+
+“You known Eph Williams long, ma’am?”
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“You need somethin’ beside legal advice, ma’am,” said Wheezer solemnly.
+“That fish-eyed shyster’ll git yuh into trouble, if yuh don’t watch
+out.”
+
+“I am perfectly able to attend to my own affairs.”
+
+Miss Cleveland’s tone chilled Wheezer, but he grinned widely.
+
+Leather dropped his reins and leaned against the railing of the porch.
+
+“Ma’am, I’d like to talk to yuh a little,” he said. “I ain’t sayin’
+nothin’ for me and the boys. We don’t like this ranch--much. Losin’
+a job don’t mean nothin’ to us, but I’d like to say somethin’ for Ma
+Coogan.
+
+“Ma’s old, ma’am. Must be past sixty. It ain’t noways easy for her to
+land another job, don’tcha see? She’s fine, Ma is. You won’t find nobody
+like her. She’s got to have a home. Old folks, like her, has got to have
+a home, don’tcha see, ma’am?”
+
+Miss Cleveland studied Leather, as he talked, but he knew that she was
+not impressed with his argument.
+
+“I am sorry,” she said, “but Mr. Williams will handle that part of it
+for me. I have no doubt but that Mrs. Coogan is a fine cook, but Mr.
+Williams has advised that I change the personnel of this ranch entirely
+and I am following his advice. Of course, you know, I am not running a
+charitable institution.”
+
+“No, I didn’t reckon yuh was,” Leather sighed and picked up his reins.
+
+For a moment he seemed downcast over her decision, but lifted his eyes
+and looked squarely into her face. Wheezer started instinctively forward
+as he saw the expression on Leather’s face.
+
+Wheezer knew that Leather was at white heat. He had seen that same
+expression on Leather’s face before, and it meant that the devil within
+him had torn loose.
+
+“Ma’am,” Leather’s tone was hoarse, as if he were suffering from a bad
+cold, “we ain’t askin’ for charity--ain’t askin’ nothin’ from you--now.
+You own the NR ranch, and you can do what yuh please with it. Lookin’ at
+you, I wonder what makes yore blood circulate. You ain’t got no heart.”
+
+She sprang to her feet and faced him, and for a moment Wheezer thought
+she would attack him with her hands, but Leather’s eyes did not waver
+and she stepped back, as if wondering.
+
+“You coward!” she exclaimed. “To talk that way to a woman!”
+
+“You are a woman,” Leather nodded slowly. “But you are not a lady--not
+human.”
+
+“You get off this ranch!” Miss Cleveland bit her under-lip and pointed
+back to the road.
+
+Leather shook his head.
+
+“No. You own this ranch, but you don’t know how much of it you don’t
+own.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“This is what I mean.” Leather turned and pointed toward the rolling
+hills.
+
+“There’s a lot of NR cattle out in them hills, but you don’t own many of
+them.”
+
+“Why--if they are NR brand--what do you mean?”
+
+Leather laughed and walked off the porch to his horse, before he
+replied.
+
+“Ask Eph Williams what I mean. If he don’t know, I’ll tell him. C’mon,
+Wheezer.”
+
+They led their horses down to the barn, while the girl looked after
+them, her face a mixture of emotions. Then she swore a good United
+States oath and went into the house.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was nearly daylight the next morning when Chet Wells rode up to the
+NR corral-fence, tied his horse and hammered loudly on the bunk-house
+door. After making considerable racket he kicked the door open and went
+inside, where he war-whooped, like an Indian.
+
+“Shut up and come to bed,” said Leather sleepily. “Whatcha think this is
+around here?”
+
+“Yee-o-o-o-ow!” yelped Chet. “I’m a coyote!”
+
+“Dang right yuh are,” agreed Wheezer. “Crawl into a hole before a
+he-human collects yore ears. Chet, you ---- brayin’ burro, shut up!”
+
+But Chet would not shut up. He climbed up on Wheezer’s chest and sat
+down, while he sang--
+
+    “I’m a tough ol’ jasper and I’m lookin’ for a fight;
+    I’ll cut, shoot or rassel from mornin’ until night
+    With a whang de oodle addy aye, addy aye.”
+
+“Yeah, and you’ll get it, too,” declared Leather angrily.
+
+“Woosh!”
+
+Wheezer managed to dump Chet on to the floor and sat up, gasping for
+breath.
+
+“Are yuh all woke up?” queried Chet. “My gosh, you sure are heavy
+sleepers!”
+
+“Where’s Wooden-shoe?”
+
+“Wooden-shoe is in jail.”
+
+“In jail?”
+
+“Yeah, in jail! Want me to yell it louder?”
+
+“What for, Chet?”
+
+“Talkin’ too much.”
+
+Leather slid out of bed and reached for the makings of a cigaret.
+
+“Oh, he talked too much, eh?” said Wheezer. “If that was a crime, you’d
+’a’ been hung years ago, Chet. What did he talk about?”
+
+“That wall-eyed bronc you sold to Clay Hardy. Yuh see--” Chet helped
+himself to Leather’s tobacco and papers--“Clay and Murtch runs into me
+and Wooden-shoe, and they asks us to have a drink. We got to talkin’
+about that wall-eyed bronc, and Wooden-shoe, like a danged fool, tells
+’em that he was the original owner. He says that you won it from him
+in a poker game out here.”
+
+“Well, s’pose he did,” asked Wheezer. “What then?”
+
+“Murtch asked Wooden-shoe who he got the bronc from and Wooden-shoe
+jist naturally can’t say. Murtch says it’s kinda funny, bein’ as the
+bronc has got a D-Bar-D brand on its shoulder and no other marks.
+
+“Well, Wooden-shoe’s drinkin’, which makes him foolish and he tells
+Murtch to go to ----. Then Murtch arrests him for stealin’ a D-Bar-D
+horse.”
+
+“And that’s a ---- of a note!” exploded Wheezer.
+
+“The D-Bar-D outfit is over in Foster County,” volunteered Chet
+dismally. “Murtch says that the brand never was put on very deep, and
+the hair covered it.”
+
+“And if the D-Bar-D keeps a sale record--Wooden-shoe is in bad shape,”
+said Leather. “Dang the luck, I don’t know how we overlooked that brand.
+Cinch to burn on the two sides to that bar and make it a DAD brand.”
+
+“Which won’t get Wooden-shoe out of jail now,” Chet reminded them sadly.
+
+“We vented a lot of D-Bar-D’s, if I remember,” said Wheezer
+thoughtfully, “and if that outfit comes over to identify that wall-eyed
+bronc they’ll likely kinda look around for more.”
+
+“Yuh can’t identify a vented brand,” said Chet.
+
+“No, but yuh can get ---- suspicious of an outfit with as many as the
+NR has on the range. Believe me, gents, I’m plumb ready to pull m’
+freight.”
+
+“What we need is a lawyer,” grinned Leather.
+
+“I betcha we do,” Chet was serious.
+
+“Might hire Eph Williams,” grinned Wheezer.
+
+“Yeah, we might do worse,” nodded Leather. “He’s just crooked enough to
+defend a bunch of horse thieves and get away with it. I s’pose he’d want
+us to give him a bill of sale of the animals we stole.”
+
+Chet kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bunk, where he
+proceeded to snore loudly. It was too early to dress; so Leather and
+Wheezer crawled back under their blankets again, and in a few minutes
+there was a trio of snores.
+
+It was about eight o’clock when Leather and Wheezer got out of bed and
+slid into their clothes. Chet still snored loudly, but they did not wake
+him up. Wheezer went to the window and looked toward the ranch-house.
+
+“Horse and buggy up there,” he announced. “Reckon the sweet lady’s
+guardian angel has arrived already.”
+
+They finished dressing and went up toward the house. Eph Williams backed
+out of the door, carrying one end of a trunk, the other end of which was
+being carried by a Chinaman.
+
+Williams merely glanced at the two cowboys and went back into the house,
+followed by the Chinaman.
+
+“Well, whatcha know about that?” grunted Wheezer.
+
+They walked around to the back door, where they found Ma Coogan sitting
+on the wash-bench. Her old face was streaked with tears, and she was
+wearing a very old alpaca dress, which she had not worn for years, and
+beside her on the bench was a little old hat with a moth-eaten feather.
+
+She looked up at them, but did not speak. Leather frowned and hitched at
+his belt as he and Wheezer looked at each other queerly.
+
+“I--I’m goin’--somewhere,” said Ma Coogan painfully. “They got a
+Chinaman.”
+
+She did not look up at them. Leather turned away and rubbed his chin
+violently. Then he whirled on Wheezer.
+
+“Go down and wake up Chet and saddle the horses. We’ll have to bust that
+jail and get Wooden-shoe out and----”
+
+Wheezer whirled to go back to the bunk-house, but Leather stopped him.
+
+“Wait. That won’t do no good either. I was going to kill that ----
+lawyer, but that won’t help Ma.”
+
+“Bless your hearts,” Ma looked up at them. “Sure, ye don’t need to worry
+about me.”
+
+“No, I reckon not,” said Leather softly, “but we don’t want to have to
+eat Chink cookin’, Ma.”
+
+“But the Lord love ye, we’re all fired.”
+
+“That’s right. I’ll have to see that lawyer. Set still.”
+
+Leather hurried around the house and Wheezer almost trod on his heels.
+Williams and Miss Cleveland were on the porch, and the Chinaman was
+putting the trunk into position to load it on to the back of the buggy.
+
+“Whose trunk is that?” asked Leather.
+
+“Mrs. Coogan’s,” said Williams defiantly.
+
+Leather strode out to the Chinaman and pointed at the trunk.
+
+“Roll it back to the porch, John.”
+
+The Chinaman squinted at Leather and then at Williams.
+
+“Didja hear what I said?” asked Leather.
+
+“Yessah.”
+
+The Chinaman tried to grin, but it was a weak effort.
+
+“Then roll it back like I told yuh to do.”
+
+“Just a moment.”
+
+Williams grew very indignant and came down the steps.
+
+“Let that trunk alone.”
+
+“Roll it over to the porch, John,” ordered Leather. And then to
+Williams:
+
+“Yo’re on thin ice, pardner. Keep out of the argument.”
+
+The Chinaman rolled the trunk back to the porch.
+
+“Now, get into that buggy,” ordered Leather, and the Chinaman lost no
+time in obeying. He had lived long in the range-country and knew better
+than to refuse an armed cowboy.
+
+“You are just wasting your breath,” stated Williams with a weak smile.
+“Being armed, you have the advantage--for the moment.”
+
+With a quick twist of his wrist, Leather flipped the gun from his
+holster and tossed it aside.
+
+“Now, whatcha say?” he asked softly.
+
+“My dear man, there is no use of a quarrel.”
+
+Williams spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. He tried to be
+friendly, but it was all lost on Leather.
+
+“Yo’re seven-eighths coyote and--no, I won’t say that either. There’s
+two skunks in Broken Butte, and yo’re both of ’em.”
+
+“You seem determined to quarrel with me, I see,” said Williams sadly. “I
+am only doing my duty, Kleig.”
+
+“Yeah?”
+
+Leather considered Williams for a space of time and nodded slowly.
+
+“I reckon yo’re all right, Williams. I never trust a man that’ll back
+down. Shake, will yuh?”
+
+Leather shoved out his hand, and Williams, a look of wonder on his
+face, shook hands solemnly with him. Wheezer swallowed with great
+difficulty and kicked himself on the ankle to see if he was asleep.
+Miss Cleveland’s face expressed astonishment, and even the Chinaman’s
+expressionless face changed its placid contour for a moment.
+
+“I want to talk with yuh kinda private,” said Leather softly. “Mebbe we
+better go down to the bunk-house, eh? C’mon, Wheezer.”
+
+Williams swallowed painfully, wonderingly and looked at Miss Cleveland,
+but followed behind them to the bunk-house steps, where they sat down.
+
+“I ain’t never hired a lawyer before,” stated Leather, “and I dunno
+just how to go about tellin’ him things. Is it a fact that what yuh
+tell a lawyer is kinda--uh----”
+
+“I think I know what you mean,” nodded Williams. “Whatever you tell me
+will be sacred.”
+
+“Yeah, that’s the word I was huntin’ for,” grinned Leather. “Yo’re
+educated, Williams, and I sure like to talk to educated folks.”
+
+Wheezer choked over his cigaret and dug his heels into the dirt. He
+wanted to yell out loud. Williams accepted the compliment as his just
+due.
+
+“It better be sacred,” said Leather, “or four good punchers will swell
+the census of the penitentiary.”
+
+Williams pricked up his ears, but tried to appear unconcerned.
+
+Leather glanced sideways at him, but Williams was rubbing his chin
+thoughtfully and trying to control his elation. He had been insulted
+many times by these four wild-riding cowpunchers, and he was more
+than willing to have them bare their guilty secrets.
+
+“I ain’t doin’ this so much for us as I am for the lady,” explained
+Leather slowly. “She thinks she inherited somethin’, pardner.”
+
+“Ahem-m-m!”
+
+Williams cleared his throat raspingly, but waited for Leather to
+continue.
+
+“It dates back quite a while,” continued Leather. “Yuh see, old Nick
+Ralls wasn’t no saint. The NR wasn’t no payin’ proposition and old Nick
+was just about at the _hondo_ end of his rope when we showed up.
+
+“We kinda made him a proposition. It’s hard for a cattle-rustler to
+dispose of stock these days, don’tcha know it?”
+
+“I--er--shouldn’t be surprized,” nodded Williams.
+
+“Anyway,” continued Leather, “here’s what was done. The four of us
+misbranded every danged critter we could find. We worked plumb over
+into Foster County. ’Course we didn’t steal a lot of Broken Butte
+cows, but there’s a few.
+
+“We branded ’em with the NR iron, and Nick Ralls was to do the sellin’.
+His idea was to make the old NR look like a regular cow-ranch and sell
+out the whole works. Then he was to split the money; _sabe?_”
+
+Williams squinted painfully at Leather. Somehow he could hardly believe
+that statement, and wondered where the joke came in. But Leather’s face
+was serious.
+
+“You--you are not joking?” asked Williams.
+
+“Don’tcha believe it. I ain’t tryin’ to excuse us. The NR owes us plenty
+of money, which we’ve got to collect, but I just wanted yuh to know how
+we stand, and how the lady--well, yuh can see what she inherited.”
+
+“Yes, yes!” Williams seemed to be doing a lot of fast thinking. “Do you
+think there is any danger of an investigation? Is there--nobody suspects
+you, do they?”
+
+“Here’s the point.” Leather tapped Williams on the shoulder and lowered
+his voice. “Yesterday we sold a horse to Clay Hardy. We didn’t know it,
+but that horse had a D-Bar-D brand on its shoulder. Murtch arrested
+Wooden-shoe Van Dorn and throwed him in jail.
+
+“Murtch is goin’ to send word to the D-Bar-D outfit, over in Foster
+County, and find out how it comes that we had that horse.” Leather
+pointed out toward the hills and laughed grimly. “Them hills are full
+of D-Bar-D cows, with the brands vented and the NR run on.
+
+“If that outfit comes over here to see about that wall-eyed bronc,
+they’ll start lookin’ for other stock they’ve lost, don’tcha see?”
+
+“That’s right. But you vented the brands----”
+
+“Yeah, and there’ll be a ---- of a lot for us to explain if they find
+out about all them vented brands. It’ll look kinda bad, don’t yuh
+think?”
+
+Williams got to his feet.
+
+“You sit tight, all of you,” he ordered. “I’ll stop Murtch, if it isn’t
+too late.”
+
+He hurried toward the buggy, sprang in beside the Chinaman and whirled
+the horse around. Miss Cleveland called to him, but he put whip to horse
+and turned out of the ranch-house gate on two wheels.
+
+Leather watched him disappear in a cloud of dust and then looked
+wonderingly at Wheezer.
+
+“He--he’s in a hurry,” observed Wheezer.
+
+Leather looked back up the road and nodded slowly, as a smile creased
+his thin features.
+
+“Whatcha want to--” began Wheezer, but Leather stopped him.
+
+“Don’t talk to me, Wheezer! Lemme think, will yuh? I’ve got an idea, but
+some of the parts are missin’.”
+
+Chet Wells opened the door behind them and blinked into the sunlight.
+
+“Leather hired Williams for our lawyer, Chet,” said Wheezer solemnly.
+
+“Yeah, I heard it,” nodded Chet. “I heard old fish-eye’s voice; so I
+glued m’ ear to the door. Whatcha tryin’ to do--put us in the
+penitentiary, Leather?”
+
+“He won’t talk to yuh,” stated Wheezer. “He’s thinkin’, Chet.”
+
+“She’s about time he done a little thinkin’. He sure didn’t do any
+thinkin’ when he told our shame to that danged lawyer.”
+
+Leather got to his feet and went to the house. Ma Coogan was still
+sitting on the wash-bench, waiting for Williams to take her away. She
+looked up at him and he grinned softly.
+
+“Ma, you take off that dress,” he ordered kindly. “You can’t cook no
+breakfast, all dressed up thataway.”
+
+“Cook breakfast? The Lord love ye, I’m----”
+
+“Williams has gone back with his Chinaman, Ma. You go right back and fry
+us a flock of eggs. Mebbe there ain’t goin’ to be no change.”
+
+“Do ye mean that, boy?” Ma got to her feet and put a trembling hand on
+his arm. “Ye’re not jokin’, are ye?”
+
+Leather shook his head.
+
+“No, I’m not, Ma. You’re still the chief cook of the NR ranch. The
+lawyer feels kinda different than he did a while ago.”
+
+“Sure, I dunno what to say.” The old lady’s eyes sparkled with happiness
+as she looked around and picked up her old hat. “It’s like wakin’ from a
+bad dream, so it is. God is good to me, Leather Kleig. I’m goin’ to fry
+thim eggs--now.”
+
+She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, the tears running
+down her face, but went on into her beloved kitchen. Leather blinked
+uncertainly and shoved down on his cartridge-belt, after which he went
+around the house and picked up the six-shooter he had discarded.
+
+Jane Cleveland was standing on the porch and she looked curiously at
+him. He grinned at her and gazed down the road.
+
+“The lawyer went away in a hurry,” he observed. “I reckon I better carry
+Ma’s trunk back into her room.”
+
+“I do not understand it,” she said.
+
+“Neither do I,” he admitted, swinging the trunk back on to the porch,
+“but I reckon it’ll be all right, ma’am.”
+
+He deposited the trunk in Ma Coogan’s little room and came back to the
+porch, but Jane Cleveland had gone to her room.
+
+It was about three hours later that Wooden-shoe rode into the ranch and
+dismounted at the bunk-house. He was grinning widely.
+
+“Bust out?” queried Chet.
+
+“Huh!” Wooden-shoe grinned knowingly. “Much obliged to yuh. That sheriff
+was mad enough to eat hay. How did you fellers manage to sneak in and
+vent that brand last night?”
+
+“Eh?” grunted Wheezer. “Whatcha mean?”
+
+“Aw-w-w!”
+
+Wooden-shoe turned the horse around and showed them the left shoulder of
+the animal, where a hot iron had completely destroyed any possibility of
+ever deciphering the original brand.
+
+“That’s a good joke,” grinned Wooden-shoe. “Murtch was awful sore. He
+said it was a ---- good thing that he hadn’t sent word to the D-Bar-D.
+He knows who done it, but he can’t prove it, and he knows that, too.”
+
+Chet and Wheezer looked inquiringly at Leather, but he merely grinned
+and nodded.
+
+“Well, what’s the answer?” queried Chet wonderingly.
+
+“Our lawyer is workin’,” Leather said with a chuckle.
+
+“Kinda looks like it,” admitted Wheezer. “But lawyers come pretty high,
+don’t they? How are we goin’ to pay him, Leather?”
+
+“I dunno--yet.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+That afternoon the four cowpunchers saddled their horses and headed
+for Broken Butte. There was nothing for them to do at the ranch--and
+they still had money left.
+
+Miss Cleveland had spent most of the day in the shade of the porch,
+reading, while Ma Coogan lifted her quavering voice in song in the
+kitchen.
+
+Half-way to town they met Eph Williams, driving toward the ranch. He
+drew up his horse and smiled, or rather smirked at them.
+
+“You sure got into action real fast,” said Leather, “and we’re sure much
+obliged to yuh, Williams.”
+
+“Yes, I think it was well handled, Kleig. Now, my advice to all of
+you would be to leave this country as soon as possible. In defense of
+my client I shall bend every effort to protect what is legally her
+property.
+
+“As far as your salary claims are concerned, I am afraid they can not
+be met. Miss Cleveland has no money, and Nick Ralls left nothing but
+property, which would be hard to dispose of right away.”
+
+“Yeah, that’s right, I reckon,” nodded Leather, “but it ain’t hardly
+fair to us. I’ll tell yuh what we might do: We might each take
+twenty-five head of beef steers and sell ’em. They’re worth about
+twenty dollars on the hoof right now.”
+
+“Well--” Williams smiled weakly--“I’d hardly advise that either.”
+
+“How many would we take for Ma’s share?” queried Chet seriously.
+
+“Hard to tell.” Leather rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Ranch cooks
+gets about fifty per month, and if yuh figure that out for ten years
+and divide it by twenty--it would be quite a few cows.”
+
+“Be about three hundred head,” said Chet. “We’ll take four hundred head
+of NR steers and call it square.”
+
+Williams shook his head quickly.
+
+“No, that would not be hardly fair to Miss Cleveland. She had nothing
+to do with this matter, and all claims against the estate must be in a
+form that the court would consider. Verbal agreements are, I am sure,
+something that would hardly be considered in a court of law.”
+
+“Well, we’ll kinda hang around,” stated Leather. “Yuh never can tell
+what might happen. I think that old Nick was plumb loco when he wrote
+that will.”
+
+“Not at all, Kleig; he was perfectly sane--perfectly.”
+
+“I dunno how he got thataway,” grinned Wheezer. “He sure was always loco
+before.”
+
+They rode on toward town, and Williams went on toward the NR. Leather
+was very thoughtful. There was the germ of an idea in his mind--a
+far-fetched feeling that it was a bright idea, and he grinned softly
+under the brim of his sombrero.
+
+There was a big poker game in progress in the Shoshone when they came
+in. Battler Morgan, “King” Cole, a big horse raiser from the south end
+of the range, Jim Kelly, owner of the general merchandise store, Clay
+Hardy and Spade Hollister.
+
+A number of men were watching the play, among them being Murtch. He
+scowled at the four cowpunchers, and moved around to the far side of the
+table. Spade Hollister glanced up at Leather, who was standing almost
+behind Clay Hardy, and half-nodded in recognition. Leather watched Spade
+closely--especially when he was dealing. His long, slender fingers dealt
+with baffling speed, but there was little chance for crooked play.
+
+“Deal ’em a little slower, if yuh don’t mind.”
+
+Clay Hardy was losing and inclined to be nasty about it.
+
+“I didn’t learn poker in a hay-loft,” said Spade softly, and King Cole
+laughed heartily.
+
+Clay Hardy scowled, as he picked up his hand, but did not reply.
+Leather glanced down at Hardy and noticed that Hardy’s holster was
+empty. A closer inspection showed that Mr. Hardy had the gun on his
+lap.
+
+Leather’s lips tightened perceptibly. It looked to him as if Hardy was
+anticipating trouble. Leather glanced at Murtch who had moved from
+behind Hollister and was almost directly behind King Cole.
+
+Clay lost that pot and swore softly at his luck. Spade glanced keenly at
+Hardy and flashed a look at Murtch.
+
+“Spade’s the one Clay’s watchin’,” observed Leather to himself, “and
+Spade knows it.”
+
+Battler Morgan dealt and the pot was passed. Hardy failed to deal
+openers and the deal passed to Kelly. On Kelly’s deal, Cole passed.
+Spade deliberated, but passed, and Battler opened moderately.
+
+Hardy tilted the pot heavily, which caused Cole and Kelly to pass, but
+Spade called the raise and boosted the pot a hundred dollars. Battler
+passed and Hardy called. It took all of his chips, except one small
+stack of whites.
+
+Leather watched the draw closely. Hardy tossed his discards on to the
+table, spinning them just a trifle too far, and two of them slid in
+front of Hollister, who brushed them aside.
+
+Spade drew one card and Hardy drew three. He peered at the corners of
+his cards and his right hand drew off the table and dropped to his lap.
+Spade passed. For a moment Clay Hardy’s eyes squinted grimly at Spade
+and his lips tightened. Then--
+
+“Pass,” he said softly.
+
+Spade flipped his cards over. He had three kings and a pair of nines.
+Hardy leaned across and looked at them. Then he exposed his hand.
+
+“Aces and sevens,” muttered Battler.
+
+“Yeah, aces and sevens,” said Hardy, “and they’d ’a’ been good, if that
+---- tin-horn gambler hadn’t stole the king I discarded.”
+
+For an instant there was a dead silence. Then Spade jerked back in his
+chair. Quick as a flash, Clay Hardy’s hand came up over the table-top,
+gripping a revolver, but before he could level it at Hollister, Leather
+had flung himself across Hardy, blocking him and tearing the gun out of
+his hand.
+
+Then he upset Hardy, who went sprawling and cursing against the corner
+of the wall.
+
+Leather staggered sidewise, caught his balance and faced the crowd.
+The players had got to their feet and were looking at Hardy, who was
+swearing vengeance and getting to his feet.
+
+“Lucky thing yuh blocked him, Kleig,” said King Cole. “He sure gets his
+gun quick.”
+
+Leather was facing Hardy now, and Hardy was frothing with anger, but
+mindful of the gun which Leather was holding against his ribs.
+
+“Yeah, he gets a gun quick,” smiled Leather, “but he got it off his
+lap--not out of his holster.”
+
+“He stole my discard!” panted Hardy. “I tell yuh----”
+
+“You’re a liar,” said Leather softly. “I watched him. You discarded into
+him to get an excuse to kill him. You wasn’t goin’ to give him an even
+break.”
+
+“What’s that to you, you horse-thief?”
+
+Clay Hardy spat out the question loud enough for every one in the place
+to hear. Leather did not move for a moment. He seemed to be deliberating
+just what to do. Then he handed King Cole the gun he had taken from
+Hardy.
+
+“Put that in his holster,” he said softly.
+
+Cole looked curiously at him, but stepped over and dropped the gun into
+Hardy’s holster. Hardy’s hands were hanging loosely at his sides, and he
+was hunched forward staring at Leather, who had lifted his right hand
+waist-high above the butt of his holstered-gun.
+
+“Hardy,” Leather’s voice was low pitched, “you’re a dirty coyote pup.
+You spoke out of turn just now, and I’m givin’ yuh a chance to see if
+you’ve got guts enough to reach for a gun. I’m waitin’.”
+
+Hardy’s face looked pinched and white now, and he was breathing fast.
+His eyes flashed around, as though wanting some one to interfere. Then
+his eyes came back to Leather Kleig and his knees quivered.
+
+Then his hand came slowly up to his mouth and the back of it trembled
+across his dry lips. He turned and went out of the door, striking his
+shoulder against the side, like a drunken man who is not sure of his
+step.
+
+“He’s whipped,” stated King Cole hoarsely. “Didja ever see a man get
+scared thataway? My ----, it sure was worth seein’.”
+
+“Yeah, he sure turned yaller,” agreed Battler, turning back to his
+chair. “I s’pose that busts up a perfectly good game.”
+
+Murtch had nothing to say. Spade Hollister seemed to watch him closely,
+but Murtch did not look toward him. Battler cashed in the chips and
+invited every one to have a drink, but Murtch went out without accepting
+the invitation.
+
+Spade Hollister came over to Leather and stood beside him at the bar.
+
+“Kleig, I’m much obliged to you,” he said.
+
+“Tha’sall right,” said Leather gruffly. “I wouldn’t ’a’ said a word, if
+you’d ’a’ stole that king.”
+
+Spade looked curiously at him and back to the bartender, who was taking
+their order. Wheezer, Chet and Wooden-shoe were at the bar, chuckling
+among themselves over what had just happened.
+
+They drank and moved away from the bar. Hollister looked at Leather, who
+started away from the bar. He half-smiled and stepped over beside him.
+
+“Kleig, if I can ever help yuh in any way--just speak the word.”
+
+Leather turned and looked keenly at him.
+
+“Spade Hollister, I’d ’a’ done that for any man. I’m no angel, but
+I’d have to hate ---- out of a man to stand by and see him murdered.
+I s’pose you know what it was all about, don’tcha? Then yuh know who
+to look out for. If I need yuh--I’ll yelp.”
+
+“And I’ll come,” nodded Spade as he turned and walked over to a roulette
+lay-out.
+
+The other three cowboys edged up to Leather and they grouped together
+near the door.
+
+“Cowboy, yuh sure work fast,” applauded Wheezer, slapping Leather on the
+shoulder. “And yuh sure put the fear of ---- into Clay Hardy.”
+
+“Yeah, but look out for him,” cautioned Wooden-shoe. “He’s whipped, but
+he ain’t dead. That gambler sure owes you a lot. In another second he’d
+have been plugged.”
+
+“And what for?” questioned Wheezer. “He’s a plumb stranger here, ain’t
+he? What’s Clay Hardy gunnin’ at a stranger for, I wonder?”
+
+Leather shook his head and turned to King Cole, who came up to him. Cole
+grinned and slapped Leather on the shoulder.
+
+“Kleig, I hear that you’ve got a female boss out at the NR. It can’t be
+done. If you fellers need a new job, come down to the KC horse outfit
+and go to work. It’s the same old forty-a-month and eats.”
+
+Leather smiled and shook his head.
+
+“Yuh heard Clay Hardy call me a horse-thief, didn’t yuh Cole?”
+
+“Yeah, and yuh never denied it. Yuh never did steal many horses, did
+yuh?”
+
+“Half a dozen, mebbe.”
+
+“Pshaw, that don’t make yuh a horse-thief. Some folks draws the line too
+close.”
+
+Cole laughed at his own wit and went to the door, where he turned.
+
+“That offer holds good. Come any old time.”
+
+“Thank yuh, Cole,” grinned Leather.
+
+“Well, that’s a job, if we need it,” said Chet.
+
+“If we need it,” nodded Leather.
+
+The cowboys went back to the games, but Leather did not play. He took
+a seat against the wall, where he tilted back and appeared to be
+half-asleep. Once he counted his money carefully and stowed it away in
+the watch-pocket of his overalls.
+
+There was no sign of Murtch nor Hardy. The afternoon wore away, and the
+oil chandeliers of the Shoshone were lighted. It was Saturday night and
+there was a heavy influx of cowboys.
+
+The three-piece orchestra began screeching, and the dance-hall girls
+were out in force, mingling with the men. Wheezer, Chet and Wooden-shoe
+were firmly implanted in different games; so Leather crossed the street
+alone to a restaurant. The waiter was the same Chinese that Williams had
+brought to the ranch, and he grinned in a friendly manner at Leather.
+
+“No _sabe_,” he told Leather seriously. “Catchum job quick, lose ’m
+allesame.”
+
+“Yuh didn’t last long, that’s a fact, John.”
+
+“No last. Man swear alletime. Velly mad, I t’ink. W’at you like eat,
+eh?”
+
+“What did he say about us, John?”
+
+“No talk ’bout you--talk ’bout God. Yo’ _sabe_?”
+
+“Religious, eh?”
+
+“’Ligious? Yo’ mean--same like wo’ship?”
+
+“Yeah, like worship, John.”
+
+The Chinaman grinned and shook his head.
+
+“No like. Yo’ wan’ soup?”
+
+Leather finished his meal and went outside. He was a trifle cautious,
+for fear that Clay Hardy might try to ambush him. He knew that Clay
+would welcome a chance to get even for what had happened in the
+Shoshone, but he was sure that Clay would never face him in the
+light.
+
+He strolled up the street and was going past the Broken Butte hotel,
+but stopped and stared in the window. Then he whirled around and went
+quickly inside. Ma Coogan was sitting in one of the hotel chairs
+against the wall, her hands folded in her lap.
+
+She looked up as he came in and a smile wreathed her wrinkled old face.
+
+“Sure I’ve been wonderin’ if I’d see you,” she said.
+
+“Well, what are you doin’ here, Ma?” he demanded.
+
+“I was brought here by the lawyer. Ah! I think it’s no use, Leather.
+He came this afternoon and had a long talk with Miss Cleveland, and
+thin--” Ma Coogan stopped and shook her head sadly--“and thin they
+loaded my trunk in the back of the buggy and made me come along.”
+
+“I see.” Leather’s face hardened and he squinted thoughtfully. “He
+waited until we were gone. Have you got a room here, Ma?”
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“Leather, I have no money. Ye well know that Nick Ralls only gave me a
+home and----”
+
+Leather turned and strode over to the desk.
+
+“Give this lady a room,” he demanded. “She’s got a trunk somewhere.
+Here--” He tossed a twenty dollar gold piece on the desk--“that’s
+enough for now. When that’s gone, I’ve got more.”
+
+“Yeah, sure, I’ll fix her up,” said the frowsy-looking clerk. “Dollar a
+day’s the best we’ve got.”
+
+Leather went back to Ma and handed her another twenty.
+
+“Yuh got to eat, Ma. This feller’ll fix yuh up for a room. Now don’tcha
+worry about anythin’.”
+
+He patted her on the shoulder and escaped out of the door before she
+fully realized what he had done.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+“Yo’re a ---- of a gunman, ain’tcha!” Murtch snorted angrily, but it had
+little effect on Clay Hardy, who sat hunched up in one of their office
+chairs, chewing tobacco violently. He only increased his mastications
+per minute.
+
+Murtch jerked a chair into position and flopped down, facing Hardy.
+
+“Everythin’ worked wrong,” complained Hardy nervously. “If that ----
+Kleig hadn’t come in when he did and put the whole thing into a jam.”
+
+“Yuh had an even break with him.”
+
+“Yeah--with him.”
+
+“Scared of him, eh?”
+
+“I ain’t no crazy suicide, Murtch.”
+
+“You was plumb scared to breathe, Clay.”
+
+“Uh-huh. You’d ’a’ been the same. He’s got under yore hide, and yuh
+never call him for it, Murtch. How did I know that Kleig was goin’ to
+block me?”
+
+“You was a fool to have that gun in your lap.”
+
+“Yeah,” nodded Clay seriously, “I was a fool to have a gun a-tall. I
+ought to pack a doughnut.”
+
+Murtch laughed hoarsely.
+
+“Well, I reckon it kinda spoils our plans, but there’s more than one
+way to skin a cat. We’ve got the goods on that NR gang, if we want to
+use it.”
+
+“Yo’re the boss, Murtch. All I ask is that yuh don’t get me into no
+mix-up with ’em. They don’t use no judgment. Law and order don’t mean
+nothin’ to that bunch, and a sheriff’s star looks like a bulls-eye to
+them.”
+
+“I’d hate to hear what folks will say about you, after the way yuh acted
+in front of Kleig.”
+
+“I’d a ---- sight rather be able to hear ’em say I backed down than to
+not hear ’em say I was crazy to try to beat Kleig on the draw.”
+
+“Well, there might be somethin’ to that. Let’s go and see what Williams
+has got to say.”
+
+They locked up the office and went up the street to Williams’ place. He
+had but lately arrived from the ranch and greeted them with a grin.
+
+“I brought the old woman down with me,” he explained. “So that’s that
+much done. I’ll take the Chink out there again in the morning. What did
+you do on that other proposition?”
+
+Briefly, but with sundry oaths, Murtch told of what had happened in the
+Shoshone. Hardy made no comments. Williams scowled deeply and tapped on
+the table-top with his finger-tips.
+
+“What do yuh advise?” asked Murtch.
+
+“Sitting tight. There has been too many mistakes. There will be a howl
+raised when they find that the old woman has been discharged. Miss
+Cleveland did not want to stay out there alone, but I assured her that
+everything would be all right.”
+
+“Well, I hope yo’re right,” nodded Murtch getting to his feet. “If that
+bunch get drunk, yuh never can tell what they’ll do. They think a lot of
+the old woman.”
+
+“Pshaw! What does a horse-thief care about an old woman? They’ve got
+enough to look after, if they keep themselves out of jail.”
+
+“All right. We’ll figger things out in the mornin’. Come on, Clay.”
+
+They went out and closed the door. Williams lighted a frayed cigar and
+opened his safe, which was set into the wall behind his desk. It was an
+old-fashioned safe, which opened with a key.
+
+He took out a mass of papers and looked them over in the light of his
+lamp. For a long time he studied them and then replaced them in the
+safe, after which he pocketed the key.
+
+As he turned down the lamp, preparatory to blowing it out, there came a
+knock on the door. He hesitated for a moment and seemed about to call
+out, but changed his mind and went to the door. He turned the knob and
+looked outside.
+
+There was no one in sight. He leaned out and glanced down the street.
+Then something crashed down upon his head and he fell backward into the
+room.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was about three o’clock in the morning when Wheezer, Chet and
+Wooden-shoe decided to go back to the ranch. None of them had seen
+Leather, and, as his horse was missing from the hitch-rack, they
+decided that he had preceded them to the NR.
+
+The gods of the green cloth had not been good to the trio, and there was
+little merriment within them as they left Broken Butte.
+
+“I’m as clean as the dew,” said Wheezer sadly. “I spent m’ substance in
+tryin’ t’ make two-pair beat three of a kind.”
+
+“Yuh ought to play roulette,” observed Wooden-shoe. “Get yuh a little
+system, that’s all yuh need.”
+
+“How much you got left?” demanded Chet.
+
+“I still got my system left--and a four-bit piece.”
+
+“I sure hope that Leather’s got some money left,” said Chet. “My pesos
+has all gone where the woodbine twineth and the pelican trilleth to its
+mate.”
+
+They unsaddled their horses and went up to the bunk-house door. It was
+bright moonlight, almost as light as day, and their eyes beheld a great
+and varied assortment of things piled on the steps.
+
+They looked the things over carefully and grunted their amazement.
+
+“Looks like somebody done moved us out,” observed Wheezer. “What’s on
+the door?”
+
+He climbed over the stuff and studied a square of white paper which was
+tacked on the door. He scratched a match and read the message aloud.
+
+    “Notice. Any one entering this building without my permission
+    will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”
+
+Wheezer whistled softly and looked back at them.
+
+“And she’s signed by Miss Jane Cleveland, owner of the NR ranch.”
+
+“Door locked?” asked Chet.
+
+“Locked ----! It’s nailed tight.”
+
+“Well,” observed Wooden-shoe optimistically, “it’s a good thing that it
+ain’t Winter and zero weather.”
+
+“That’s a ---- of a thing to be joyful about.”
+
+Wheezer climbed back and sat down on a pile of blankets.
+
+“I wonder where Leather is.”
+
+“Prob’ly asleep in the barn,” said Chet. “That ---- lawyer sure foxed
+us, didn’t he? That whippoorwill ain’t workin’ for us, that’s a cinch,
+and I’m goin’ to curry him to the queen’s taste. Yessir, I’m goin’ to
+hit him so hard that he’ll have a permanent part in his hair.”
+
+“I hope,” said Wooden-shoe, “he dies before his time comes.”
+
+“Let’s go down to the barn and join Leather in the hay,” suggested
+Wheezer. “Mebbe there ain’t no notice on the hay-loft.”
+
+They filed down to the big barn and crawled into the loft, which still
+contained a ton or so of hay, but Leather was not there.
+
+“Prob’ly never left town,” said Wheezer as he burrowed into the hay.
+“Gosh dang it, we’ll wake up full of fox-tail, I betcha.”
+
+He was facing the opening of the loft, a doorless opening, about
+six-feet square, which gave him a view of the ranch-house yard and
+the big gate. The moon was partly obscured for a few minutes, which
+made objects rather hazy, but he saw a horseman coming toward the
+gate, traveling slowly.
+
+“Here comes Leather,” he stated. “Let him see the notice, et cettery,
+and then listen to him cuss.”
+
+The others shifted their positions to watch him. He was almost under
+the arch of the gate, when a streak of orange-colored flame seemed
+to spurt up at him from a brush-tangle just beyond, and the thud of
+a revolver shot broke the stillness.
+
+The boys in the loft were unable to see just what did happen, but the
+rider was shooting now. Another spurt of flame came from the tangle.
+Three times the rider’s gun spat fire, the reports mingling with those
+from the brush.
+
+“My ----, what’s goin’ on?” gasped Wheezer, almost falling out of the
+loft opening.
+
+“There he goes!” exclaimed Chet.
+
+The rider had turned and was riding rapidly away, the sound of the
+galloping horse dying away in the distance.
+
+They tumbled out of the loft and raced toward the gate, each man
+carrying a gun in his hand. Out through the gate they ran and stopped
+in the road.
+
+“Over here!” panted Wheezer. “He was shootin’ from that bunch of--look
+out! There he is.”
+
+A man was lying sprawled on his face in the tangle, and the moonlight
+glinted on his revolver, which was lying on the ground near him. They
+did not need to turn him over to see it was Clay Hardy.
+
+“Whatcha know?” panted Chet. “The dirty bushwhacker!”
+
+“Yeah, he shot first,” agreed Wheezer. “I seen him shoot first. Wonder
+if he’s dead.”
+
+“Feel of his heart,” said Wooden-shoe. “If it ain’t beatin’, he’s dead.”
+
+“It sure takes brains to know that!” grunted Chet.
+
+Wheezer turned him over and felt of his heart. It was beating jerkily.
+
+“He ain’t dead--yet. What’ll we do with him?”
+
+“Take him to a doctor,” suggested Wooden-shoe.
+
+“And go to the pen for shootin’ him?” queried Chet.
+
+“He got cultivated on the head,” stated Wheezer. “A bullet sure danced
+a jig on his noodle, but I don’t reckon it went through. Was that
+Leather?”
+
+“Looks like it might ’a’ been. Him and Hardy had a run-in, and I’ll
+betcha Hardy sneaked out here and laid for him. He never budged when
+we came through.”
+
+Chet walked back down the road, where a number of cottonwoods made a
+black blotch against the sky. Just to the left of them grew a tangle
+of stunted willows.
+
+“Here’s his horse!” called Chet, and went over into the willows after
+it.
+
+They could see the outlines of the ranch-house, but the shooting had not
+caused any one to light a lamp nor come to investigate.
+
+“I’ll betcha that Cleopatra’s scared stiff,” said Wheezer.
+
+“Cleopatra ain’t got a ---- thing on me if she is,” declared
+Wooden-shoe. “I’m scared, too, y’betcha.”
+
+Chet came back with the saddled horse and they boosted Clay Hardy
+aboard.
+
+“We’ve got to have ropes to hold him on with,” said Chet, as they tried
+to balance the swaying figure. “We’ll take him over to the barn and rope
+him on good, and then we’ll saddle up and take him to town.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It took Eph Williams a long time to wake up from the smash on his head.
+He had been hit a solid clip and things were rather hazy in his mind for
+some time. It cost him considerable pain to crawl over to his chair,
+where he sat and recuperated.
+
+He was not in the best physical condition and he cursed himself weakly,
+while he wondered what had happened to him. A bump the size of an egg on
+his head attested to the fact that something had hit him--and hit him
+hard.
+
+Gradually he recovered sufficiently to try to analyze what had really
+occurred. He knew now that some one had knocked him down. Who it was
+and why, he did not know. He examined the contents of his pockets, but
+everything was intact. The safe was locked, the papers on his desk all
+in place.
+
+“Must have been a personal matter,” he observed thankfully, but was
+unable to blame any certain person. A lawyer of his type makes many
+enemies.
+
+He secured some water and bathed his head carefully, after which he
+took a bottle of whisky from his desk and indulged freely. It was
+nearly daylight now. He looked at his watch, tried to put his hat on
+over the knob on his head, but decided it was too painful; so he went
+outside bare-headed, locked his office and went down to see Murtch.
+
+Murtch was not ready to get out of bed, and he swore peevishly at
+Williams, who persisted on hammering on the front door of the office.
+Finally Murtch came and opened the door.
+
+“Now, what in ---- do you want?”
+
+“Somebody hit me on the head,” explained Williams.
+
+“Yeah?” Murtch was very sarcastic.
+
+“Prob’ly didn’t want to hurt yuh, so they hit yuh on the head.”
+
+“Must have had a gun or something,” said Williams, feeling tenderly of
+his recently acquired swelling.
+
+“What’s the joke?”
+
+“No joke,” Williams shook his head. “I tell you, I got knocked down in
+the doorway of my own office. Look at my head.”
+
+Murtch examined the swelling and his demeanor changed.
+
+“Come on inside.”
+
+Murtch lighted a lamp and drew on his pants and boots.
+
+“Now, who hit yuh, Eph?”
+
+“I don’t know. A while after you left I heard some one knock. I went
+to the door, stuck my head outside--and got hit. I tell you, it made
+me sick.”
+
+“Huh!”
+
+Murtch drew out his watch and glanced at it.
+
+“You must ’a’ been knocked out quite a while.”
+
+“Yes, I think so. I didn’t come down here right away, because I was too
+sick. I haven’t the slightest idea of why it was done. I was not robbed
+and there is nothing missing from my office.”
+
+“That’s danged queer,” observed Murtch. “Yo’re sure they didn’t take
+anythin’?”
+
+“Not a thing. Where is Clay Hardy?”
+
+“I dunno. He got sore at me and went away. Mebbe I talked a little too
+tough to suit him.”
+
+Williams rubbed his sore head and thought deeply.
+
+“Those cowpunchers have likely gone back to the ranch,” he said
+thoughtfully, “and I’ve promised to bring that Chinaman out there this
+morning, but I don’t feel like it.”
+
+“I’ll take him out,” offered Murtch.
+
+“You will? Well--” thoughtfully--“perhaps that would be better. You see,
+I nailed up the bunk-house door, after I moved out all their things, and
+put a trespass notice on the door.”
+
+“And yuh think it would be better, eh? No wonder yuh don’t want to go
+out there. Moved ’em out and nailed the door, eh?”
+
+“Miss Cleveland suggested it.”
+
+“The ---- she did! I thought you was supposed to be her adviser.”
+
+Williams tried to grin, but it was a sorry effort. Murtch looked again
+at his watch.
+
+“What time does that Chink restaurant open?”
+
+Williams shook his head.
+
+“What difference----”
+
+“Lot of difference. If I can get that Chink now, I can get him out there
+on the job before they wake up.”
+
+“We can find out. If they’re not up, we’ll wake ’em.”
+
+Murtch put on his coat and they went to the restaurant. There was no
+sign of life, so they went to the rear, where the proprietor and his
+hired help slept in a sort of a shed-like annex.
+
+Murtch hammered on the door and a sleepy-eyed Celestial shuffled into
+view. It was the proprietor of the restaurant, and to him Murtch
+explained what he wanted.
+
+“Yo’ want same boy like yo’ take before?”
+
+“Yeah, the same one. Catchum good job. Same ranch.”
+
+The Chinaman turned and hurled a volley of words toward the rear of
+the shed. Began a conversation which lasted fully a minute. Then the
+proprietor shook his head.
+
+“Boy say no.”
+
+“Lemme see him,” said Murtch, and a moment later the Chinaman came to
+the door.
+
+“Good job this time, John,” explained Murtch. “You go with me and take
+charge of the same ranch-house.”
+
+“Same place we go before?”
+
+“Yeah, same place, John.”
+
+“No can do.”
+
+“No can do! Whatcha talkin’ about? This good job?”
+
+“No can do,” said the Chinaman stolidly, and went back to his bed.
+
+The proprietor shut the door softly and barred it from within.
+
+Murtch and Williams went back to the street.
+
+“Whatcha goin’ to do?” queried Murtch. “There ain’t no other chinks and
+we can’t get a white cook. If you’d had any sense you’d ’a’ left the old
+woman there.”
+
+“Things are in an awful tangle,” agreed Williams. “An awful tangle.”
+
+“Now, that made a ---- of an impression on my mind,” said Murtch
+angrily. “You’ve balled up everything. I’ll go out and explain things
+to Miss Cleveland. She’s got such ---- good ideas, such as nailing up
+bunk-house doors and posting notices--mebbe she’ll see a way out of
+this.”
+
+Murtch hurried after his horse and rode toward the NR ranch. It was
+daylight now, and Murtch hoped he would not meet any of the NR
+cowpunchers. Not that Murtch was afraid, but their rough humor was
+too pointed to suit him.
+
+About two miles out of town he ran into them. There was no way to dodge
+them, so he drew up in the center of the road and tried to think of a
+reason for being there so early in the morning. He inwardly cursed Eph
+Williams for nailing that bunk-house door.
+
+Then he saw that there was a fourth man, roped to his saddle and riding
+in an unusual position. They drew up near him, their faces very serious,
+and waited for him to speak. He knew at a glance who the fourth rider
+was and he frowned wonderingly.
+
+“Somebody shot him,” offered Wheezer. “We found him and was takin’ him
+to the doctor.”
+
+Murtch rode in closer to Hardy and tried to get a look at his face.
+
+“He ain’t dead, is he?”
+
+“Wasn’t when we started,” said Chet, “but he ain’t in the best of health
+right now.”
+
+“No?” Murtch glanced around at them. “Where did yuh find him?”
+
+He emphasized “find” very strongly.
+
+“None of that!” snapped Wheezer quickly. “We didn’t have nothin’ to
+do with it. Hardy tried to bushwhack somebody and got leaded for his
+trouble.”
+
+“Did, eh? Who was that somebody?”
+
+“We dunno.”
+
+“Dunno, eh? Where’s Kleig?”
+
+“Dunno that either.”
+
+“Thasso?”
+
+“Why argue with the danged fool?” queried Wooden-shoe. “He’s got his
+mind fixed. Give him his second-hand deputy and let’s go back and
+finish our sleep.”
+
+“That’s a good idea,” agreed Wheezer, handing the lead rope to Murtch.
+“He can take better care of Hardy than we can.”
+
+“Wait a minute!” snapped Murtch. “You can’t pull nothing like that. You
+come back with me--all of yuh.”
+
+“Yuh mean to arrest us?” asked Wheezer.
+
+“That’s what I mean to do.”
+
+“All right,” grinned Chet. “We’ll remember it.”
+
+Murtch clamped his jaws and looked them over. Here were three men who
+had no respect for him nor the law. He knew it would be useless to
+insist on them going back to Broken Butte with him; not only useless,
+but dangerous as well. But he was willing to try and bluff them.
+
+“Yuh know what it means to resist an officer?”
+
+“Did somebody resist yuh, Murtch?” asked Wheezer.
+
+Murtch studied them for a moment and tightened upon the lead rope.
+
+“All right,” he said meaningly. “I asked yuh to come with me and yuh
+refused, remember. Next time I want yuh I’ll bring men enough to take
+yuh.”
+
+“Kind of a mass meetin’, eh?” grinned Chet. “Mebbe we won’t stay for
+yore party, sheriff.”
+
+“You’d be ---- wise not to!” snapped Murtch as he turned and rode away,
+leading Hardy’s horse.
+
+The three cowboys watched him for several minutes, but he did not look
+back. Then they whirled their horses and went back toward the ranch.
+
+“We’ll pack what stuff we want and fade out,” said Chet. “There’s no use
+takin’ any chances. If he once gets us behind the bars--_adios_.”
+
+“What about Leather?” asked Wheezer. “I ain’t goin’ to fog away without
+hearin’ from him. If he was the one that nailed Clay Hardy he’ll show up
+or send us word.”
+
+“What do you think, Wooden-shoe?” asked Chet.
+
+“I been wonderin’. Ain’t it kinda funny that the sheriff advised us to
+pull out of here? That ain’t accordin’ to my idea of what a sheriff
+ought to do. He can’t hold us for what happened to Clay Hardy.”
+
+“If he does, he can,” observed Chet. “And if they ever put the deadwood
+on us for all this rustlin’--whooee! Nawsir, I can’t see myself waitin’
+for him to come out with a posse. Williams knows that we loaded this
+range with cattle, and I don’t trust that jasper a-tall. Mebbe Leather
+had the right idea in tellin’ him--I dunno.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+They found Miss Cleveland on the porch of the ranch-house, and from her
+appearance, she had slept little. She was not the imperious lady of the
+day before, and seemed rather glad to see the three punchers.
+
+“Howdy,” greeted Wheezer, as they dismounted. “Nice morning, ain’t it,
+ma’am.”
+
+“Yes, it--it’s very nice. Did you just come from town?”
+
+“Well, not quite from town, ma’am. Yuh see, a man got kinda shot up down
+there by the gate this mornin’, and we had to take him in.”
+
+“A man got shot! Oh, I heard the shots! Who--how did it happen?”
+
+“Some feller pulled the trigger,” explained Wheezer. “Jist like blooie,
+blooie, blooie! Three times.”
+
+Wheezer held out his hand and went through the motions of pulling the
+trigger three times.
+
+“But who was it?”
+
+“Nobody you know, ma’am,” said Chet. “One feller laid for the other one.
+Didn’t amount to nothin’.”
+
+“But I want to know who it was.”
+
+“The one that got shot was Clay Hardy, the deputy sheriff.”
+
+“Was--was he trying to make an arrest?”
+
+“Prob’ly,” said Wheezer dryly. “I wouldn’t put anythin’ past that
+sheriff’s office.”
+
+The girl looked inquiringly at them and adjusted her tumbled hair.
+
+“Did you see Mr. Williams this morning?” she asked.
+
+“Old fish-eye?” Chet shook his head. “We’re layin’ for him, and I’ll
+betcha he don’t show up. Wonder when Ma is goin’ to have breakfast
+ready.”
+
+“Oh!” Miss Cleveland looked curiously at him and frowned slightly.
+“Didn’t you--er--Mrs. Coogan is not here. Mr. Williams took her to
+town last night.”
+
+“Oh, yeah.”
+
+Chet rubbed his chin and nodded slowly. Wheezer and Wooden-shoe squinted
+at each other and back at Miss Cleveland.
+
+“Went to town, did she?” asked Wheezer. “That’s funny.”
+
+“Mr. Williams took her,” repeated the girl. “He said he would bring me
+another cook early this morning.”
+
+“Said he would,” parroted Wheezer. “Whatcha know?”
+
+“Ma’am,” said Wooden-shoe, “I don’t reckon you _sabe_ about Ma Coogan.
+Mebbe folks has told yuh wrong.”
+
+“You lemme do the talkin’,” Wheezer interposed impatiently. “You don’t
+want no Chinese cook. You----”
+
+“Are you running this ranch?” asked Miss Cleveland, but her voice was a
+trifle weak, and she seemed to force herself to be stern.
+
+Wheezer laughed softly and shook his head.
+
+“No, ma’am, I ain’t. Yo’re the owner and boss, but we know this here
+ranch better than you or that fish-eyed lawyer does. We seen that notice
+on the bunk-house door and we seen all our stuff piled outside.
+
+“Thassall right. We ain’t wailin’ about that part of it. Ma’s old,
+ma’am. This is her home. She’s been here a long time, don’tcha know
+it. Mebbe you had a mother, and if yuh did, and if she was old like
+Ma, and----”
+
+Wheezer stopped and scratched his head. He had about run out of words.
+Miss Cleveland bit her lip. She seemed very thoughtful, and the boys
+waited for her to speak.
+
+“And Ma didn’t have no money,” said Chet softly.
+
+“I--I’m sorry,” said the girl. “I--oh, don’t talk to me! I had to stay
+alone in that house all night and I never slept at all, and ---- such a
+place!”
+
+She whirled on her heel and fairly ran into the house, leaving the three
+cowpunchers gawping after her.
+
+“She cusses jist like a human bein’,” said Chet wonderingly. “She said,
+‘---- such a place!’ I betcha she’s mad at the old NR.”
+
+They sat down on the steps and rolled smokes. There was no use in them
+staying at the ranch, and they knew of no place to go.
+
+“We’re in a ---- of a fix,” declared Wheezer.
+
+“Wooden-shoe can cook,” observed Chet. “If I could cook I’d go into the
+kitchen and cook.”
+
+“I ain’t et nothin’ since yesterday noon,” complained Wheezer. “My
+insides are paralyzed from inaction.”
+
+“I wonder if she’d let me cook?” questioned Wooden-shoe.
+
+“You try it and see.” Miss Cleveland spoke from the doorway. “I had a
+can of corn for my dinner and I haven’t had anything since. I don’t
+know how to cook.”
+
+“Lemme at that kitchen,” grinned Wooden-shoe. “I’m plum familiar
+with food. If the lawyer comes you tell him to tie his chink to the
+corral-fence, ’cause there’s a horse-thief in the kitchen.”
+
+“Honest?” Miss Cleveland stared at him.
+
+“Well, about as honest as a horse-thief ever gets,” grinned Wooden-shoe,
+and jingled his spurs into the kitchen.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Murtch lost no time in taking Clay Hardy to a doctor--old Doctor
+Chisholm, the only M. D. in Broken Butte. He was a tall, very severe
+old man, whose spectacles were forever threatening to slip off the
+end of his long nose.
+
+He made a quick examination of Clay Hardy, who had never regained
+consciousness, and shook his head.
+
+“Sher-r-riff, this is no job for a sur-r-r-geon. Ye are wantin’ the
+coroner.”
+
+“Is he dead?” asked Murtch quickly.
+
+“I ha’ never seen a deader one, sir.”
+
+Murtch shook his head wearily.
+
+“Well, you’re the coroner, Doc.”
+
+“Aye. How did ye say he came by his wounds?”
+
+“I didn’t say,” growled Murtch. “That ---- gang from the NR outfit
+turned him over to me awhile ago. They told a fool story about some
+one shootin’ Hardy at the ranch, but don’t know who done it.”
+
+“Then the cir-r-rcumstances calls for an inquest?”
+
+“I think he was murdered.”
+
+“Ha’ ye any idea who would do it?”
+
+“There’s one of the NR outfit missin.’ Name’s Kleig.”
+
+“Weel--” the doctor adjusted his glasses and rubbed his nose
+thoughtfully--“weel, I suppose we may as well sit on the case in th’
+mor-rnin.’ Ye will pr-r-roduce the necessary witnesses, sheriff?”
+
+“I’ll come ---- near doin’ it,” growled Murtch, and went back to his
+horse.
+
+He found Williams at his office, a bandage around his head and a frayed
+cigar clamped between his teeth. Murtch lost no time in telling
+Williams what had happened to Clay Hardy. For several moments Williams
+was incoherently explosive, but overcame his feelings enough to try and
+think calmly.
+
+“What was that ---- fool doin’ out there, anyway?”
+
+Murtch shook his head.
+
+“How’d I know? I bawled him out for lettin’ Kleig run that sandy on him,
+and he got mad about it. Mebbe he tried to salivate Kleig, I dunno.”
+
+“Went out after him, eh?”
+
+Murtch nodded gloomily.
+
+“Looks like it, Eph. Kleig is missing today--so the boys said, but I
+don’t believe ’em. I’m gittin’ cock-eyed over this thing, I tell yuh.”
+
+“You’ll be lucky if you don’t get worse than that.”
+
+“Thasso?” Murtch flared for a moment, but cooled off quickly. “Mebbe
+yo’re right, Eph. What in ---- is the best thing to do?”
+
+“Well--” Williams rubbed his sore head and smiled sourly--“my advice
+would be to throw Spade Hollister into jail on a murder charge, raise
+that one thousand nine hundred and twenty dollars for those four NR
+thieves and tell ’em to get to ---- out of the Broken Butte country.”
+
+“Yuh would, eh?”
+
+“Well, then you suggest something, Murtch.”
+
+“That ranch can’t stand payin’ that much money.”
+
+“You might take a mortgage on the ranch.”
+
+“Aw, ----! I wish somebody’d shot me before I ever heard of the NR. ----
+old Ralls! ---- all his relations!”
+
+“Go ahead and get it out of your system Murtch.”
+
+“All right; ---- you along with the rest!”
+
+Murtch got to his feet and stamped to the doorway. There was no doubt
+but what the sheriff of Broken Butte was both angry and disgusted. He
+leaned against the door-jamb and glared around.
+
+Suddenly he leaned forward and looked intently toward the Broken Butte
+hotel. Then he turned and called to Williams--
+
+“Come here!”
+
+Williams joined him and together they watched Chet Wells help Ma Coogan
+into a buggy, behind which was tied Chet’s saddle-horse, and drive out
+of town toward the NR ranch.
+
+“What does that mean?” grunted Williams.
+
+Murtch shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I s’pose it means that you ain’t got a ---- of a lot to say about the
+NR ranch, Eph.”
+
+Williams spat out his frayed cigar and looked gloomily after the
+departing buggy. Murtch squinted at Williams, as if enjoying the
+lawyer’s bitterness.
+
+“Well, what’s the answer?” he asked.
+
+“It won’t suit you, Murtch, but it’s the only solution that I can see.
+You are going to howl like a wolf, but it’s got to be done. Come back
+into the office.”
+
+Murtch debated for a moment, after Williams had gone back to his desk,
+but followed him inside.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Miss Cleveland came out to the ranch-house doorway as Chet drove up
+to the porch with Ma Coogan. To the new owner of the NR it seemed as
+though fate was bound to keep Ma Coogan on that ranch. The old lady
+smiled up at her as Chet helped her out of the buggy.
+
+“Sure, I’m glad and proud to be back,” said Ma happily, “and I’m pleased
+that ye sent for me, miss.”
+
+“Oh--uh--yes,” faltered the girl, looking hard at Chet, who turned and
+glanced toward the bunk-house, as if looking for the moral support of
+the other boys.
+
+Miss Cleveland had not sent for Ma Coogan. Wooden-shoe’s culinary
+efforts had not been appreciated.
+
+“He means well,” explained Wheezer, “but the food ain’t noways
+sympathetic enough, ma’am.”
+
+And then Chet Wells had an inspiration.
+
+“Ma’am, do you want to hire a good cook?” he asked.
+
+“It appears that such a person is desired,” she replied, and Chet had
+appointed himself to employ just such a person. Hence Ma Coogan’s
+return.
+
+Wheezer and Wooden-shoe came out of the barn, got a glimpse of Ma Coogan
+on the porch and came up on the run. Chet had not explained who he was
+going to hire.
+
+Ma Coogan shook hands with them and beamed widely.
+
+“Sure, the old ranch needed me,” she laughed. “Chet tells me that
+Wooden-shoe set himself up as a cook.”
+
+Wooden-shoe patted her on the back and grinned widely.
+
+“I plumb ruined the food to git yuh back,” he explained. “I’m smart, I
+am.”
+
+“But not as smart as Chet,” stated Wheezer, looking at Miss Cleveland.
+
+Ma laughed and turned to the girl.
+
+“God bless ye, miss. Ye dunno how much happiness it gives me to be back
+here. Sure, the world wasn’t much for the old lady away from here. Ye
+can’t understand. It’s just home to me--and the children--” She smiled
+affectionately at the cowboys. “Ye are children, so ye are. I had four
+fine little boys when I went away, and I’ve four little boys and a
+little girl when I came back.”
+
+She threw one arm around Miss Cleveland and gave her a squeeze, before
+she went into the house. Wheezer lifted his shoulders in a sigh of
+relief. Miss Cleveland turned from watching Ma Coogan and looked
+straight into Wheezer’s solemn eyes.
+
+“Yuh ain’t sorry she came back, are yuh, ma’am?” he asked softly.
+
+“Sorry?” The girl stared at him unblinkingly for a moment and turned
+toward the door. “No, I’m not sorry--I--I think I’m glad.”
+
+“Then there’s four glads around here,” said Chet slowly. “Ma’s a dinger,
+y’betcha.”
+
+She went into the house and in a few minutes they heard her talking to
+Ma Coogan.
+
+“Yuh got more brains than I gave yuh credit for, Chet,” said Wheezer.
+“I never figured yuh was thinkin’ about bringin’ Ma back here. What’ll
+Williams say?”
+
+“He’s all through sayin’ things about Ma,” said Chet. “Me and that
+jasper is goin’ to lock horns, if he comes out here again. I seen him
+and Murtch in Williams’ office, and they was watchin’ us leave.”
+
+“Didja hear anybody talkin’ about Clay Hardy?” asked Wooden-shoe.
+
+“Nope. I wasn’t doin’ no talkin’. Broken Butte didn’t seem much stirred
+up about it.”
+
+It was possibly an hour later that Murtch and Williams rode up to the NR
+on horseback. The three cowboys met them at the door of the ranch-house,
+but there was no welcome in their greetings.
+
+Williams smiled in a sickly way as he said:
+
+“Well, I see that you brought the old lady back here. Good idea. Was
+thinking about it myself.”
+
+“With a reverse English,” nodded Wheezer seriously.
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+Williams smiled and shook his head, as he glanced around. Then--
+
+“Where is Mr. Kleig?”
+
+“My ----!” grunted Chet. “Mister Kleig!”
+
+“We dunno where he is,” replied Wooden-shoe.
+
+“I see,” nodded Williams meaningly. “Perhaps you might be able to find
+him later. At any rate--” He drew a bulky package from his pocket and
+opened it--“I have drawn one thousand nine hundred and twenty dollars
+against the NR estate to be paid to you four men for services rendered.
+I shall have to entrust you with four hundred and eighty of it for Mr.
+Kleig.”
+
+Wheezer started to cuff his hat to one side of his head, but the blow
+sent the sombrero spinning off the porch. Wooden-shoe sagged at the
+waist and his hand went uncertainly to his mouth; while Chet merely
+kicked himself on the ankle with his spurred heel.
+
+Murtch tried to smile, but it faded quickly.
+
+“Your year’s salary,” said Murtch thickly, and then seemed to have
+difficulty clearing his throat.
+
+“Yeah--year’s salary,” parroted Wheezer foolishly, as he watched
+Williams separate the four payments.
+
+“I have talked it over with Miss Cleveland,” said Williams, handing
+them each the money and giving Leather’s share to Wheezer, “and we
+decided to meet your claims. Perhaps it is hardly legal, but, under
+the circumstances, and out of the goodness of her heart, she decided
+to do this.”
+
+“All I can say is ‘hurrah for our side!’ ” grunted Wooden-shoe. “My
+gosh!”
+
+He looked down at the money and his nose fairly quivered.
+
+“Have you any plans?” asked Williams.
+
+“Plans?” Chet looked up quickly. “My ----, yuh don’t need plans when
+you’ve got a year’s salary in yore hand.”
+
+“I’ll take her as she comes,” declared Wheezer, trying to be serious.
+
+“You will be leaving this range soon?” Williams’ tone was suggestive as
+well as interrogatory.
+
+“Mebbe,” nodded Wheezer. “Yuh can’t sometimes always tell.”
+
+“I had an idea that you’d leave as soon as you got that money.”
+
+“Yeah?” Chet pocketed his money and grinned widely. “Cowboys, lemme at
+that old roulette. I’m goin’ hawg wild and bull strong.”
+
+“I’ve got the good system,” offered Wooden-shoe. “All yuh got to do----”
+
+Murtch snorted disgustedly, and Wooden-shoe stopped.
+
+“What’s a matter with you?” he demanded. “Ain’t a feller got a right to
+have a system?”
+
+“Didja find out who shot Hardy?” asked Wheezer, who wanted to promote
+peace.
+
+“Naw!” snarled Murtch. “But I’m goin’ to, by ----! And when I do, he’ll
+hang!”
+
+“I betcha,” nodded Wheezer. “You won’t even wait for judge nor jury,
+Murtch. Right now yo’re mad at something, ain’tcha? You’ve got a
+terrible disposition.”
+
+Murtch snorted something unintelligible and stamped back to his horse,
+but Williams went into the house, where he engaged in conversation with
+Miss Cleveland. The three cowboys sat down on the steps and looked at
+each other queerly.
+
+It was more money than they had ever had--all at one time. They were not
+entitled to it, that much was sure.
+
+“I wonder if they’re goin’ to give Ma some money,” said Wheezer softly.
+“I betcha that girl has done felt sorry for what she done. I hate to
+take her money.”
+
+“So do I,” nodded Chet. “Mebbe I’ll pay it back to her some day--mebbe.”
+
+Williams came out and hesitated for a moment before he told them of the
+inquest.
+
+“I suppose you boys will have to be there to tell what you know about
+it.”
+
+“Yeah,” agreed Chet. “We’ll come early. Fact is, I reckon we’ll start
+pretty soon. Yuh goin’ to have Miss Cleveland? She heard the shots
+fired.”
+
+Williams frowned slightly, but went back into the house for a few
+minutes. When he came out he told them that Miss Cleveland would attend
+the inquest.
+
+“It will be a good chance for her to meet some of the Broken Butte
+folks,” he added, and went to his horse.
+
+Murtch did not speak to him, and they rode silently away from the ranch.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Williams and Murtch had hardly reached Broken Butte before Wheezer,
+Chet and Wooden-shoe came in sight of town. Their future was a pink
+haze of riotous living and their horses’ legs were not swift enough.
+They pounded into town, barely took time to stable their horses and
+headed for the Shoshone.
+
+They were questioned regarding the shooting of Clay Hardy, which, under
+ordinary circumstances, would have given them food for much conversation
+and argument, but with four hundred and eighty dollars apiece--they were
+tongue-tied.
+
+Battler Morgan grinned widely and pointed at the ceiling, which meant
+that there was no limit. Murtch looked into the Shoshone, groaned
+bitterly, spat viciously and went away. Wheezer had put Leather’s money
+into his boot, rather than to entrust it to any one.
+
+It was nearly daylight the next morning when Chet and Wooden-shoe bumped
+into each other at the doorway, as they were both going out.
+
+“Whazza matter?” asked Chet owlishly. “Doorsh too li’l f’r you,
+par’ner?”
+
+“Thaz’ ri’,” clucked Wooden-shoe, hanging to a porch-post, which seemed
+to sway him about. “Whazza m’r with you, eh? Shame y’shelf?”
+
+“Broke,” dismally. “Money all gone and shomebody stole m’ rudder. Can’t
+steer m’shelf.”
+
+“Ep’demic,” hiccoughed Wooden-shoe. “Ter’ble ep’demic. Awful losh of
+life. Blew m’ shubstanch in ri’tous livin’. Whazza use?”
+
+“Poor li’l girl,” wailed Chet, suddenly becoming remorseful. “Lied her
+out of for’shun. Shame m’shelf, y’betcha. Poo-o-or li’l girl.”
+
+“Thash ri’,” sobbed Wooden-shoe, getting into the spirit of the
+occasion. “Poo-o-o-or li’l girl. Oh, my gosh! Poo-o-o-or li’l thing!”
+
+And together they sobbed tearfully, remorsefully, trying to pat each
+other on the back at a distance of eight feet apart.
+
+The cool air revived them somewhat and after a time they quit crying
+and became dignified. There was a lighted lamp in Williams’ office.
+Chet’s eyes focused upon it.
+
+“Wooden-shoe,” he said seriously, “our lawyer is indushtrious. Works
+night ’n day. Let’s go and shee him. What yuh shay? Mebbe we can think
+of shomethin’ he ain’t paid for, eh?”
+
+“Sh-sure,” stuttered Wooden-shoe. “Never can tell. We’ve had a nice
+night f’r thish time of the year. You go ’head, Chet, ’cause you know
+the way acrosh better’n I do.”
+
+They started out in single-file, but cross-currents interfered, and at
+times they were fifty feet apart.
+
+They finally reached the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street,
+but below Williams’ office.
+
+“Mus’ ’a’ been cloud-bursht,” observed Wooden-shoe. “Never sheen the
+river so swift before. Mus’ ’a’ had to git off and swim, don’tcha know
+it. I’m all wet.”
+
+“’S’nawful current right here,” admitted Chet thickly. “C’mon.”
+
+They started up the street, bumping into the wooden sidewalk at
+intervals, but managed to reach the corner of Williams’ office.
+
+Wooden-shoe began to laugh hoarsely.
+
+“’S’all right, Chet. I thought I fell in river, but ’s only a bottle of
+hooch busted in m’ hip-pocket.”
+
+Chet slid across the sidewalk and peered into the office window.
+Williams was there, sitting at his desk, and just in front of the desk
+stood a man, with his back toward the window. Wooden-shoe crawled over
+and peered into the window.
+
+Williams was hunched back in his chair, saying nothing, but the other
+man was tensed forward, talking rapidly. As Chet’s eyes began to focus
+properly he saw Murtch leaning against the wall, partly in the shadow,
+and about six feet from the man who was talking.
+
+The conversation was pitched too low for Chet or Wooden-shoe to hear
+what was being said, but they knew that it was a heated argument.
+Neither of the cowboys were eavesdroppers; so they crawled to the
+corner, dropped their feet over the edge of the high sidewalk and sat
+with their backs to the street.
+
+“Whozat arguin’ in there?” asked Wooden-shoe.
+
+“Tha’s Hollister, the crooked gambler.”
+
+“Zasso? I wonder----”
+
+Came the thud of a muffled shot, and the corner of the building,
+against which Chet was leaning his shoulder, jarred slightly. At the
+same instant the lamp went out.
+
+Chet and Wooden-shoe promptly fell off the sidewalk and landed on their
+hands and knees.
+
+“Sh-h-h!” cautioned Chet, as they turned around and poked their heads
+above the sidewalk. There was not a sound for a minute or so; and then
+a door closed softly. It sounded like it might be the rear door of
+Williams’ office.
+
+Then the front door opened and Williams came out. He lighted a cigar,
+surveyed the street for a few moments and walked slowly away.
+
+“Whatcha think?” queried Wooden-shoe, poking his head above the level of
+the sidewalk.
+
+“Yes,” grunted Chet enigmatically. “Let’s go down to the livery-stable
+and find a soft place to sleep.”
+
+“But what was the shootin’ about?” persisted Wooden-shoe. “There was a
+shot fired in there as sure as----”
+
+“Tha’s none of my business--in my condition,” declared Chet. “C’mon and
+sleep it off.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The inquest had been fairly well advertised by word of mouth, and quite
+a crowd gathered in Broken Butte. Clay Hardy was not popular. Had he
+been killed in an open fight, or if his slayer was known, there would
+have been little interest shown. But there was an element of mystery,
+which always appeals.
+
+Williams had sent a man out to the NR ranch after Miss Cleveland, and
+he had brought Ma Coogan along. The inquest was to be held in Williams’
+office, which was hardly large enough to accommodate a crowd.
+
+Chairs had been brought from the Shoshone Saloon and placed in orderly
+rows. Doctor Chisholm, with the able assistance of “Judge” Myers, a
+justice of the peace, conducted the inquest.
+
+Chet and Wooden-shoe slept late in the hay-loft of the livery-stable,
+and were hardly in physical shape to enjoy the proceedings. Wheezer
+had not slept, but his winnings amounted to seven hundred dollars and
+he was vocally jubilant.
+
+The three of them managed to worm themselves to a point of vantage near
+the middle of the room, in spite of Murtch trying to keep them back. It
+was hot in that packed room, and the three cowboys wished that they were
+outside.
+
+“Slim” Carey, proprietor of the stage-office, Gus Welch, a restaurant
+keeper, Buck Harmon, owner of the Box-H, “Peewee” Sorenson, blacksmith,
+Jud Reeves, owner of the livery-stable and King Cole, were chosen as a
+coroner’s jury.
+
+Wheezer Bell was the first witness, and he perspired copiously over
+his explanation of what happened at the gateway of the NR ranch.
+Murtch asked him where Leather Kleig was at that time, but Wheezer
+did not know.
+
+Murtch testified as to how he had taken possession of Clay Hardy’s body,
+and that the three cowboys had stated that Clay had tried to bushwhack
+some one.
+
+“The bullet holes r-r-ranged downward,” stated Doctor Chisholm,
+indicating the angle with a poke of a forefinger. “He was shot fr-r-rom
+above.”
+
+“Didn’t he have trouble with Kleig?” questioned Buck Harmon.
+
+“Hol’ on!” snapped Chet. “If Leather had killed Hardy he wouldn’t ’a’
+run away, y’betcha.”
+
+“You’re not a witness, Wells,” advised Murtch.
+
+“The ---- I’m not!”
+
+“Order!” yelled the judge, hammering on the desk. “One more remark like
+that and out you go.”
+
+“Gimme a chance and I’ll go before that,” retorted Chet. “This danged
+place would cook a ham.”
+
+“He had trouble with Kleig,” said Murtch, ignoring Chet and speaking to
+Harmon. “Kleig shoved a gun in his ribs----”
+
+“Sa-a-ay!” interrupted Wheezer. “Where’s the jasper that Clay was
+framin’ to shoot in that poker game?”
+
+Murtch turned and spoke to the judge, who shook his head quickly. Murtch
+turned back, saying--
+
+“Kleig disappeared that night and----”
+
+“I asked a lady-like question and can’t git no answer,” wailed Wheezer.
+“Where’s that gambler?”
+
+The judge rapped sharply again and glared at Wheezer.
+
+“I told you once that I’d put----”
+
+“Try doin’ it,” invited Wheezer. “I want to know where that gambler is.
+He’s the jasper that knows.”
+
+“Do we have to suffer all these interruptions from three drunken
+cowpunchers?” asked Williams angrily.
+
+“Who’s drunk?” demanded Wooden-shoe, and started to get up, but Wheezer
+drew him back.
+
+“Ar-r-re we goin’ to make this a place of hecklin’ and blatherin’, or do
+we pr-r-roceed with the inquest?” burred the doctor impatiently.
+
+“Are we sure that this shootin’ was done at the NR ranch?” asked Slim
+Carey. Slim was very slow in his speech, which was partly muffled by a
+huge chew of tobacco.
+
+“Miss Cleveland heard the shots,” offered Williams.
+
+Miss Cleveland nodded quickly and waited for him to question her, but
+the jury seemed to take it as conclusive evidence. Every one in the
+room endeavored to catch a glimpse of the new ranch-owner.
+
+“Miss Jane Cleveland inherited the NR ranch from her uncle, Nick Ralls,”
+explained Williams.
+
+There was a shuffling of feet and several talked in undertones. Suddenly
+a man came worming his way through the crowd. It was a cowboy from the
+Box-H, and he was excited, as he called to Murtch.
+
+“Sheriff, I found a dead man down in Cannonball Gulch! He’s been shot
+and looks like he’d been dumped over the edge.”
+
+Cannon-ball Gulch paralleled the stage-road, and was only about a mile
+from Broken Butte.
+
+“Who was he, Bud?” asked Harmon.
+
+“I dunno him. Looks like a gambler t’ me.”
+
+“That’s the feller!” exclaimed Wheezer. “Name’s Hollister, or somethin’
+like that.”
+
+Miss Cleveland had got to her feet and was staring at Wheezer, while she
+grasped the back of the chair in front of her. The place was momentarily
+in an uproar.
+
+“That’s the feller that Hardy had the trouble with!” yelped Wheezer.
+“I’ll betcha----”
+
+“Don’t you go to bettin’ too much!” rasped Murtch, half-yelling his
+words.
+
+“Order!” yelled the judge. “Set down and shut up!”
+
+Miss Cleveland ignored every one and forced her way to Wheezer.
+
+“Say that name again,” she panted. “Was it Hollister?”
+
+“Yeah--they called him Spade, ma’am.”
+
+“Spade Hollister!”
+
+The girl gasped out the name and stared at Williams. He had heard her,
+and his cheeks went pale. His fishy eyes shifted quickly to Murtch.
+There was so much conversation that only those vitally interested were
+paying any attention to the girl.
+
+The cowboy was explaining to those around him how he had accidentally
+run across the body. It was not in a place where it would be easily
+discovered. Chet got to his feet and put a hand on the girl’s arm, as
+he looked at Murtch and Williams.
+
+“Say, do yuh want me to tell yuh who killed that Hollister?”
+
+Murtch jerked back, as if afraid, but hunched forward again, staring at
+Chet. Williams grasped Murtch by the arm, trying to gain his attention,
+but Murtch was waiting for Chet to speak again.
+
+“What do you know about that murder?” asked Jud Reeves.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+But before Chet could tell what he knew, there came a mutter of voices,
+the shifting of feet, and in through the crowd came Leather Kleig and a
+young woman. She was a stranger to Broken Butte.
+
+Kleig was grinning. He stopped near the center of the room and glanced
+around.
+
+“Heard somebody say that I got here just in time,” Leather smiled
+widely. Murtch and Williams were staring at him. He turned and looked
+at Miss Cleveland, whose face was white.
+
+“I reckon I got here in time,” continued Leather. “I didn’t know that
+Clay Hardy was dead. Yuh see--” He glanced around the room--“I had an
+idea that even a lawyer can make mistakes. Mister Williams I’d like to
+have yuh meet Miss Jane Cleveland, the new owner of the NR ranch.”
+
+Leather indicated the girl with him, and a gasp of surprize went up from
+the crowd.
+
+“What do you mean, Kleig?” Williams’ voice was hoarse with anger and
+fear.
+
+“What do I mean?”
+
+Leather leaned forward. His smile was gone now, and the lines about his
+eyes were drawn tightly.
+
+“I mean that you picked the wrong girl, Williams. You helped the old
+man make out his will, and you saw a chance to steal the ranch; so you
+picked the wrong heiress. Murtch was in on the deal.”
+
+“That’s a lie!” Murtch fairly screamed his denial.
+
+Leather turned to Miss Cleveland--
+
+“Did you know Spade Hollister?”
+
+The room fell silent. For a moment she stared straight ahead, and then--
+
+“Yes. Spade Hollister was my sweetheart.”
+
+“And, by ----, Murtch and Williams killed him!” yelled Chet. “I seen ’em
+together, and me and Wooden-shoe heard the shot!”
+
+“Murtch killed him!” screamed Williams, “I----”
+
+Williams’ confession, or accusation, was cut short. Murtch had whirled
+sidewise and fired his six-shooter so close to Williams’ side that the
+report was only a jarring thud.
+
+As Williams fell, Murtch whirled on the crowd like a cornered wolf,
+but Leather’s gun was spouting lead into him and he went down cursing
+thickly.
+
+“Good boy!” yelled King Cole. “He’d ’a’ killed like a coyote with the
+rabies. God! What a mess!”
+
+The room was in an uproar. Doctor Chisholm lifted Williams’ head and
+Leather crowded in close. Williams was conscious, but evidently knew
+that he was passing fast. He sneered at Leather and spat a curse.
+
+“Open my safe,” he croaked to the doctor. “Key’s in my pocket. Quick.”
+
+The doctor took out the key and opened the safe.
+
+“The package with the rubber band,” croaked Williams.
+
+He slipped the band loose and peered at the papers wonderingly. What he
+looked for was not there.
+
+“Look in the safe!” he panted. “Find--paper.”
+
+“She’s plumb empty, Williams,” said the judge.
+
+“Empty?” Williams nodded weakly and peered up at Leather. “I guess you
+win, Kleig. I might as well tell it all. Miss Cleveland is a honkatonk
+actress and we got her to play this part.
+
+“Hollister was stuck on her, ---- him! He found out something and came
+here to ask for his share and to see that she wasn’t harmed. I guess
+he killed Clay Hardy. He demanded five thousand dollars, or would tell
+that it was a crooked deal. Murtch shot him.
+
+“Murtch had Clay frame it to kill Hollister in that poker game, but you
+spoiled that. We were going to buy the NR from--her--for--one--dollar.”
+
+Williams laughed chokingly.
+
+“You know what ruined our scheme, Kleig. Too--many--crooks.”
+
+He rolled sidewise and his head pillowed on his arm.
+
+“It’s a good thing we ain’t got nothin’ to arrest,” said Wooden-shoe
+foolishly. “We ain’t got no sheriff nor lawyer. What do yuh reckon he
+was lookin’ for in the safe?”
+
+“I’ll take char-r-rge now,” said the doctor wearily. “And I per-r-rsume
+there won’t be any inquest.”
+
+The crowd moved back to the street. Ma Coogan was trying to “mother”
+Miss Cleveland, or rather the one who had been Miss Cleveland, and get
+acquainted with the real Miss Cleveland at the same time.
+
+Leather Kleig drew King Cole aside and they walked down the street
+together, while the other three cowboys went to the livery-stable to
+arrange transportation back to the ranch for the women. When King
+Cole and Leather came back, the two-seated spring-wagon had drawn up
+to the sidewalk, with Chet driving.
+
+Leather motioned to him to get down, and then spoke directly to the new
+owner of the NR.
+
+“Like I told yuh before, ma’am, the ranch ain’t nothin’ for a lady to
+run. Mister Cole kinda wants to buy the place, as soon as the papers
+can be fixed up, and he offers a good price.
+
+“Yuh better just stay here at the hotel until it is all fixed up, which
+will take a week or so. Ma will stay with yuh, of course.”
+
+He turned and put a hand on Ma’s shoulder.
+
+“Yo’re fixed for life, Ma. Miss Cleveland insists that yuh take the
+money from the sale of the ranch and live easy the rest of yore life.”
+
+“But--but--” spluttered Ma Coogan, bewildered.
+
+“That is true,” replied the young lady. “I feel that it should belong to
+you.”
+
+“Hurrah f’r our side!” blurted Wooden-shoe.
+
+“Sure, and what will become of you boys?” asked Ma Coogan anxiously.
+“Isn’t there money enough----”
+
+“We’ve got jobs down in the lower end of the valley,” assured Leather,
+“and we’ll see yuh once in a while.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was two hours later that the four cowboys rode away from the NR
+ranch. They had gone back to get their belongings, and each man had a
+bulging war-sack tied behind the cantle of his saddle.
+
+“Now will yuh tell us where we’re goin’?” asked Wheezer, as they halted
+at the top of a hog-back ridge and looked back at the old ranch-house.
+
+Leather laughed softly and looped one leg around his saddle-horn while
+he rolled a cigaret.
+
+“I was suspicious of Williams,” he said slowly. “He was too ----
+interested, don’tcha know it? They wanted all of us off the place. I
+smelled a crooked deal.
+
+“Then when they tried to kill Hollister, I knowed he was mixed up in
+it. Well, I wasn’t so danged sure about any will bein’ made out, so
+I out-smarted old Williams, knocked him on the head, opened his safe
+and put the key back in his pocket.
+
+“That will was what he was lookin’ for in that bundle of papers. I dunno
+what he ever saved it for, ’cause that was what cinched the deadwood on
+to him. I slipped out of town and headed for Keogh. I didn’t know what
+luck I was goin’ to have, but----”
+
+“Hold on,” interrupted Wheezer. “Do yuh mean to say that yuh got the
+will that old Nick made out?”
+
+“Yeah--sure.” Leather scratched a match and lighted his cigaret. “Their
+will was a forgery.”
+
+“Then why didn’t yuh jist show the will and----”
+
+“Nope,” Leather inhaled deeply and shook his head. “I’ll show yuh why.”
+He took a legal-looking document from inside his shirt and opened it.
+
+“This is the will that Ma Coogan witnessed. It gives the whole ---- NR
+ranch to us four fellers.”
+
+“To us!” blurted Chet. “Whatcha mean?”
+
+“That’s what the will says, Chet. Us four fellers owned every danged
+stick and stone on the NR.”
+
+“Well, but--goshdang it, talk can’t yuh?” croaked Wooden-shoe. “Where
+does this Miss Cleveland come in?”
+
+“Her name wasn’t Cleveland--not mine wasn’t. Her name was Hollister
+once. Spade Hollister was her husband. He mistreated her awful, and
+I danged near killed him for it. Now, she’s married to a good feller
+and they’re doin’ fine. She’s my sister.”
+
+“Oh, my gosh!” exploded Wheezer. “And you got her to--I getcha,
+Leather.”
+
+“Yeah,” nodded Leather. “I knowed how yuh all felt about Ma Coogan,
+and that’s the only way I could figure to fix her up for life. And her
+money’ll be clean, too.
+
+“I told the whole thing to King Cole, and gave him a list of what we
+stole for the NR. He’s goin’ to tell these different outfits and see
+that they take back their stock and keep still about it.
+
+“And he’s goin’ to pay Ma a good price for the NR and what honestly
+belongs there. My sister will see that it is all done on the level.”
+
+Leather grinned softly and touched a match to the document as he said--
+
+“Ma wouldn’t touch a crooked nickel, but she don’t have to now.”
+
+“Where’s the jobs yuh spoke about, Leather?” queried Wheezer.
+
+“Somewhere,” smiled Leather. “There ought to be jobs for honest and
+capable cowpunchers somewhere, hadn’t there?”
+
+Wheezer nodded solemnly, as he said:
+
+“Y’betcha, cowboy. I take back what I’ve said about old Nick Ralls. He
+meant to shoot square, but he never figured Ma in on the game; so we’ll
+jist call it a misdeal.”
+
+Leather nodded as he pinched out the fire on the remaining corner of the
+will and crumpled it into a tiny ball, which he tossed aside.
+
+Then, as if by mutual consent, they turned from looking at the old
+ranch-house and rode out of sight over the hog-back.
+
+
+[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the June 30, 1923 issue of
+Adventure magazine.]
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78659 ***