No one had thought of anything, but they were all loathe to admit it, so
each one cudgelled his brains vigorously.
"Say, so long as we busted up the weddin'," gasped Bronco, "we'll chip
in and refund her fare--ship her back in a box car--I mean--pay her way
to whar she come from. Won't we, boys?"
"Sure!" was the chorus.
Now that the ice had been broken, the situation was less strained.
"Derned--hanged--! Oh, say, Mrs. Green! We'll do any damned thing you
say, to put an end to this yer doggone millin';" floundered Holy,
struggling to be intelligible without profanity. "We never figgered it
would buffalo no one but ol' Walton, and to Hell--Oh, shucks! I mean he
don't count noways!"
Holy paused and wiped his perspiring face with a red cotton handkerchief
that was not more vivid than his own complexion. His effort had been
heroic. Mrs. Green recognized it, and her smile refused to be suppressed
longer. A dimple sneaked into her cheek. The boys breathed more freely.
Dimples didn't frighten them very badly, unless one of them was alone
with it.
"Sit down," suggested Mrs. Green, "and let's talk it over together.
Maybe we can work out the trouble." Roarer, Bronco and Holy deposited
themselves cautiously on edges of chairs, their huge hands hanging
pathetically helpless between their leather-clad knees. Their hats
decorated the floor and they were conscious of tousled heads.
"You see it all came through the child being delicate. Lung trouble, the
doctor said, and Arizona the only hope."
"He sure does look peaked," Bronco hastened to agree. If Mrs. Green had
said the King of England was hiding in the kitchen pantry at that
moment, Bronco would have backed that statement with his very life.
"Her folks are all dead," continued the Agent's wife, "and she has been
supporting the child. It took all the money she had saved, to get here."
"That's tough luck," commented Roarer with a squeak of emotion. Then
startled at the sound of his own voice, he subsided.
"She has got to stay in Arizona on account of the child's health," Mrs.
Green explained. "Walton answered her advertisement asking for a place
where she could work in return for board for herself and the child.
Nobody else answered her. Then he proposed marriage, and she agreed. She
says the boy means more to her than her own life."
"Well, if she wants to marry Walton," Limber volunteered, "we'll rope
him and get her brand on him before you can wink, and you tell her so
for us. But, I don't know but we'd be handin' her a worse deal than the
fust time."
"I told her what kind of a man he was. She never wants to see him
again." Mrs. Green's voice was sharp, hope seemed to die in the breasts
of the four men.
"Well," Roarer's tones rose shrilly in his excitement and nervousness,
"Do you think any of us'd do in place of ol' Walton? Seems to be up to
one of us to make good. Of course, Limber ain't in on this deal; but the
rest of us is, ain't we, boys?"
Weakly the rest assented. With deliberate cruelty Mrs. Green critically
surveyed each candidate for matrimonial honours. Her eyes roved slowly
from their heads to their boots, while their ears grew red, feet
shuffled uneasily and mouths were compressed grimly. Cost what it might,
the boys of the Diamond H were going to see the trouble straightened
out. The clock measured two minutes, but it seemed two hours to those
under inspection.
"I don't believe that would be the remedy," she concluded. The men
sighed with unconcealed relief, and each registered a vow to get even
with Roarer later on. It had been a close shave. The agony would never
be forgotten.
"I think she had better stay with me until she finds work," offered the
Agent's wife. "She can help me about the place, and I've got some sewing
I want to finish up. Then, you know, I have to help Jack a good bit down
in the office. Meantime, she could be prospecting for a place that would
suit her. She understands house-keeping, cooking and has been employed
in office work. So it won't be long before some one will snap her up,
out here."
Limber nodded and said gratefully, "We sure are much obliged to you,
Mrs. Green," then his hand was thrust into a hip pocket. Had Mrs. Green
been a man, she might have been alarmed at the movement, but the hand
came out clutching crumpled greenbacks. "It's up to the Diamond H outfit
to look out for her till she gets on her feet good and square, and we'll
sure be proud to do it."
With hasty awkwardness Holy, Roarer and Bronco added to the donation
Limber laid on the table, glad there was something at last that could be
done.
"I'm sure we can get things straightened out before long, some way, and
I'll do all I can to help her and you, too;" promised the woman.
"I'll talk it over with the Boss when we get home," suggested Limber.
The other men looked at him quickly, but after they said "good-bye" to
Mrs. Green, Limber parted from them. They sat side by side on a wooden,
backless bench in front of the Willcox Hotel, and discussed the
situation with its new angles.
"Limber ain't to blame, and we're goin' to let the Boss know it,
too--and then we'll take our medicine like little men," was Bronco's
ultimatum, which was endorsed by Holy and Roarer; but their hearts were
heavy at the prospect of being "fired" by the Boss of the Diamond H. No
other ranch, or Boss, or foreman would ever be the same to them.