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Dude Wrangler

<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> <h3>COLLECTING A BAD DEBT</h3> Wallie and Pinkey picked up a few stray cattle on their way to the homestead on Skull Creek. It was late in the afternoon when they reached it, so they decided to spend the night there. The corral was down in places, but with a little work it was repaired sufficiently to hold the cattle they put in it. As Pinkey had prophesied, it gave Wallie the "blues" to look at the place where he had worked so hard and from which he had hoped so much. He felt heartsick as he saw the broken fence-posts and tangled wire, the weeds growing in his wheat-field, the broken window-panes, and the wreckage inside his cabin. The door had been left open and the range stock had gone in for shelter, while the rats and mice and chipmunks had taken possession. Such of his cooking utensils as remained had been used and left unwashed, and the stove was partially demolished. The only thing which remained as he had left it was the stream of salt water that had cut a deeper channel for itself but had not diminished in volume. "I'll go over to Canby's and hit the cook for some grub and be back pronto," said Pinkey. Wallie nodded. He was in no mood for conversation, for the realization of his failure was strong upon him, and he could not rid himself of the mortification he felt at having made a spectacle of himself before Helene Spenceley. The future looked utterly hopeless. Without capital there seemed nothing to do but go on indefinitely working for wages. His aunt had sent word in a roundabout way that if he wished to come back she would receive him, but this he did not even consider. Sitting on what was left of his doorstep, he awaited Pinkey's return, in an attitude of such dejection that that person commented upon it jocosely. He rode up finally with a banana in each hip pocket that he had pilfered from the cook, together with four doughnuts in the crown of his hat and a cake in his shirt front. "I tried to get away with a pie, but it was too soft to carry, so I put a handful of salt under the crust and set it back," he said, as he disgorged his plunder. "He charged me for the bread and meat, and wouldn't let me have no butter! It's fellers like the Canby outfit that spoil a country." When they had eaten, they spread their saddle-blankets in the dooryard and with their saddles for pillows covered themselves with the slickers they carried and so slept soundly until morning. After breakfast, as they were leading their horses up the weed-grown path to the cabin to saddle them, Pinkey's eye rested on the flowing salt water stream. "Can you beat it!" he commented. "Good for nuthin' but a bathin' pool fer dudes——" Wallie stopped in the path and looked at the friend of his bosom. "Pink," he said, solemnly, "why wouldn't this make a dude ranch?" Pinkey stared back at him. "Gentle Annie," he replied, finally, "I told you long ago you was good fer somethin' if we could jest hit on it. You're a born duder!" "Thanks! I feel as complimented as the fellow in the Passion Play who is cast for Judas Iscariot." "I don't know what you're talkin' about—I've only seen a few draymas—but you got the looks and the figger and a way about you that I've noticed takes with women. You'd make a great dude wrangler. Bleeve me, you've thought of somethin'!" "I wasn't thinking of myself, but of the place here—the scenery—the climate—fishing in the mountains—hunting in season——" "And"—Pinkey interrupted—"the strongest stream of salt water in the state fer mineral baths, with the Yellowstone Park in your front dooryard!" In his enthusiasm he pounded Wallie on the back. "It would be an asset, having the Park so close," the latter agreed, his eyes shining. Pinkey went on: "You kin run dudes whur you can't run sheep or cattle. What you need is room—and we're there with the room. Fresh air, grasshoppers, views any way you look—why, man, you got everything!" "Except money," said Wallie, suddenly. Pinkey's face lengthened. "I hadn't thought of that." For an instant they felt crushed. It was such a precipitous descent to earth after their flight. They walked to the cabin, and saddled in a silence which was broken finally by Pinkey, who said vindictively: "I'd rob a train to git money enough to turn fifty head of dudes loose on Canby. He'd be mad enough to bite himself. If he could help it he wouldn't have a neighbour within a hundred miles." Wallie's thoughts were bitter as he remembered the many injuries he had suffered at Canby's hands. It was a subject upon which he dared not trust himself to talk—it stirred him too much, although he had long ago decided that since he was powerless to retaliate there was nothing to do but take his medicine. As he made no response, Pinkey continued while he tightened the cinch: "If you could make a dude ranch out o' this and worry him enough, he'd give you about any price you asked, to quit." "I'd ask plenty," Wallie replied, grimly, "but it's no use to talk." "It wouldn't trouble my conscience none if I hazed a bunch of his horses over the line, but horses are so cheap now that it wouldn't pay to take the chance." "There's the Prouty Bank," Wallie suggested, ironically. "Them bullet-proof screens have made cashiers too hard to git at." Pinkey spoke in an authoritative tone. "Why don't you marry some rich widow and get us a stake?" "Aw-w!" Resentment and disgust were in Pinkey's voice. "I'd steal washings off of clothes lines first." He added: "I don't like them jokes." "I didn't know you were touchy, Pink." "Everybody's touchy," Pinkey replied, sagely, "if you hit 'em on the right spot. But, do you know, this dude ranch sticks in my mind, and I can't git it out." "We might as well let it drop. We haven't the money, so we're wasting our breath. We'll lose the jobs we've got if we don't get about our business. Let's leave the cattle in the corral and scout a little through the hills—it'll save us another trip. I don't want to come here again soon—it hurts too much." Pinkey agreed, and they rode gloomily along the creek bank looking for a ford. A few hot days had taken off the heavy snows in the mountains so quickly that the stream was running swift and deep. "That's treach'rous water," Pinkey observed. "They's boulders in there as big as a house where it looks all smooth on top. I know a place about a mile or so where I think it'll be safe." They had ridden nearly that distance when, simultaneously, they pulled their horses up. "Look at that crazy fool!" Pinkey ejaculated, aghast. "It's—Canby!" Wallie exclaimed. "Nobody else! Watch him," incredulously, "tryin' to quirt his horse across the crick!" "Isn't it the ford?" "I should say not! It looks like the place but it ain't—he's mixed—he'll be in a jack-pot quick if he don't back out. Onct his horse stumbles it'll never git its feet in there." They rode close enough to hear Canby cursing as he whipped. "Look at him punish the poor brute! See him use that quirt and cut him with his spurs! Say, that makes me sick to see a good horse abused!" Pinkey cried, indignantly. Wallie said nothing but watched with hard, narrowed eyes. "I s'pose I'd oughta yell and warn him," finally Pinkey said, reluctantly. "You let out a yip and I'll slat you across the face!" Pinkey stared at the words—at Wallie's voice—at an expression he never had seen before. "I know how you feel, but it's pure murder to let him git into that crick." "Will you shut up?" Wallie looked at him with steely eyes, and there was a glint in them that silenced Pink. He waited, wonderingly, to see what it all meant. The battle between man and horse continued while they watched from the high bank. In terrified protest the animal snorted, reared, whirled, while the rider plied the quirt mercilessly and spurred. Finally the sting of leather, the pain of sharp steel, and the stronger will won out, and the trembling horse commenced to take the water. Pinkey muttered, as, fascinated, he looked on: "I've no idea that he knows enough to quit his horse on the down-stream side. He'll wash under, tangle up, and be drowned before we get a chanst to snake him out. He's a gone goslin' right now." Cautiously, a few inches to a step, the horse advanced. "There! He's in the boulders! Watch him flounder! Look at him slip—he's hit the current! Good-night—he's down—no, he's goin' to ketch himself! Watch him fight! Good ol' horse—good ol' horse!" Pinkey was beside himself with excitement now. "He's lost his feet—he's swimmin'—strikin' out for the shore—too swift, and the fool don't know enough to give him his head!" They followed along the bank as the current swept horse and rider down. "He swims too high—he's playin' out—there's so much mud he'll choke up quick. It'll soon be over now." Pinkey's face wore a queer, half-frightened grin. "Fifty yards more and——" Wallie commenced to uncoil his saddle rope. "You goin' to drag him out?" Wallie made no answer but touched his horse and galloped until he was ahead of Canby and the drowning horse. Making a megaphone of his hands he yelled. Canby lifted his wild eyes to the bank. "Throw me a rope!" he shrieked. A slow, tantalizing smile came to Wallie's face. Very distinctly he called back: "How much damages will you give me for driving your cattle into my wheat?" "Not a damn cent!" The rope Wallie had been swinging about his head to test the loop promptly dropped. The horse was swimming lower at every stroke. "Five hundred!" Fear and rage were in Canby's choking voice. "Put another cipher on that to cover my mental anguish!" Wallie mocked. The horse was exhausting itself rapidly with its efforts merely to keep its nose out, making no further attempt to swim toward the bank. Canby slapped water in its face in the hope of turning it, but it was too late. Its breathing could be heard plainly and its distended nostrils were blood-red. Many things passed swiftly through Canby's calculating mind in the few seconds that remained for him to decide. His boots had filled and he was soaked to the waist; he knew that if he left the horse and swam for it he had small chance of success. He was not a strong swimmer at best, and even if he managed to get to the bank its sides were too high and steep for him to climb out without assistance. He looked at Wallie's implacable face, but he saw no weakening there, it was a matter of a moment more when the horse would go under and come up feet first. "Throw me the rope!" His voice vibrating with chagrin and rage admitted his defeat. Wallie measured the distance with his eye, adjusted the loop, and as it cut the air above his head Canby held up his hands to catch it when it dropped. "Good work!" Pinkey cried as it shot out and hit its mark. "You never made a better throw than that, old kid!" Canby slipped the loop under his arm and, as he took his feet from the stirrups, shouted for them to tighten up. The horse, relieved of his weight, took heart and struck out for the opposite bank, where a little dirt slide enabled it to scramble out. Shaking and dripping, at last it stood still at the top, while Canby, a dead weight, was dragged over the edge to dry land. There was as much fury as relief in his face when he stood up and started to loosen the rope around his chest. Wallie stopped him with a gesture. "No, you don't! I take no chances when I play with crooks. You make out that check." "Isn't my word good?" Canby demanded. "Not so far as I can throw my horse." "I haven't a check-book," he lied. "Get it, Pink." The check-book and indelible pencil which every sheep and cattleman carries were in the inside pocket of his coat. "Fill it out." Wallie passed the pencil to him. "And don't leave off a cipher by mistake." "I refuse to be coerced!" Canby declared, defiantly. "I'll keep my word, but I didn't say when." "I'm setting the date," Wallie replied, coolly, "and that's just four minutes and a half from now," taking out his watch. "If I haven't got the check by then you'll pay for those locoed horses, too, or I'll throw you back." "You don't dare!" "When you haven't anything to lose you'll do considerable to get 'hunks' and that's my fix. Besides, I need the money. Two minutes left—think fast." "You'll sweat blood for this before I'm through with you!" "Time's up—yes or no?" Canby gritted his teeth. Silently Wallie passed the end of the rope to Pinkey, who understood and took a turn around his saddle-horn. Before he could resist Wallie gave Canby a shove and pushed him over the bank. He struck the water with a splash and went out of sight. Immediately the well-trained cow-horse felt the strain it backed up and held the rope taut. Canby came to the surface, then dangled as the horse continued to hold off. As he strangled with the water he had taken in his lungs and struggled frantically in the air, it seemed beyond human belief that it was he, Canby—Canby the all-powerful—in such a plight! "Pay out a little rope, Pinkey. Give the fish more line." Once again Canby dropped back and came up gasping, coughing, fighting for his breath. A little anxiously Pinkey asked: "Don't you bleeve he's had enough?" "Too much scrap left in him yet," Wallie replied, unmoved. Canby shrieked at last: "I'll pay! Let me up!" "You mean that?" "Good God—YES!" Pinkey led the horse back and in no gentle fashion Canby was pulled over the edge for the second time, where he lay limp. When his breath and strength returned he struggled to his feet. "If you go in again you won't come up." Wallie's voice was metallic and, searching his face, Canby saw that he meant exactly what he said. His hand was shaking as he filled out the check, using the saddle for a desk. Wallie looked at it and handed it back. "You forgot the horses—six hundred is what they cost." Canby started to protest, then, with a crafty look which, fleeting as it was, Wallie caught, he made out a new check for fifty-six hundred. Turning to Pinkey, Canby said: "I'll give you a hundred and fifty for your horse." Pinkey hesitated. It was a hundred more than it was worth. "I guess not." Wallie's voice was curt. "I'm clairvoyant, Canby, and I've read your thought. You can't stop payment by telephone, because Pink is going to close-herd you right here until I ride to Prouty and get this cashed." Pinkey's jaw dropped. "By the long-horn toads of Texas! I wouldn't 'a' thought of that in a month!" As Wallie put his foot into the stirrup for the first time his face relaxed. He looked over his shoulder and grinned: "If you listen, maybe you'll hear something making a noise like a dude ranch, Pink." <hr class="major" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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