At the Lazy Double D
Dingwell squinted over the bunch of cattle in the corral. "Twenty
dollars on the hoof, f.o.b. at the siding," he said evenly. "You to
take the run of the pen, no culls."
"I heard you before," protested the buyer. "Learn a new song,
Dingwell. I don't like the tune of that one. Make it eighteen and let
me cull the bunch."
Dave garnered a straw clinging to the fence and chewed it meditatively.
"Couldn't do it without hurting my conscience. Nineteen--no culls.
That's my last word."
"I'd sure hate to injure your conscience, Dingwell," grinned the man
from Denver. "Think I'll wait till you go to town and do business with
your partner."
"Think he's easy, do you?"
"Easy!" The cattle-buyer turned the conversation to the subject
uppermost in his mind. He had already decided to take the cattle and
the formal agreement could wait. "Easy! Say, do you know what I saw
that young man put over to-day at the depot?"
"I'll know when you've told me," suggested Dingwell.
The Denver man told his story and added editorial comment. "Gamest
thing I ever saw in my life, by Jiminy--stood there with his back to
the man-killer and lit a cigarette while the ruffian had his finger on
the trigger of a six-gun ready to whang away at him. Can you beat
that?"
The eyes of the cattleman gleamed, but his drawling voice was still
casual. "Why didn't Meldrum shoot?"
"Triumph of mind over matter, I reckon. He _wanted_ to shoot--was
crazy to kill your friend. But--he didn't. Beaudry had talked him out
of it."
"How?"
"Bullied him out of it--jeered at him and threatened him and man-called
him, with that big gun shining in his eyes every minute of the time."
Dingwell nodded slowly. He wanted to get the full flavor of this
joyous episode that had occurred. "And the kid lit his cigarette while
Meldrum, crazy as a hydrophobia skunk, had his gun trained on him?"
"That's right. Stood there with a kind o' you-be-damned placard stuck
all over him, then got out the makings and lit up. He tilted back that
handsome head of his and blew a smoke wreath into the air. Looked like
he'd plumb wiped Mr. Meldrum off his map. He's a world-beater, that
young fellow is--doesn't know what fear is," concluded the buyer sagely.
"You don't say!" murmured Mr. Dingwell.
"Sure as you're a foot high. While I was trying to climb up the side
of a railroad car to get out of range, that young guy was figuring it
all out. He was explaining thorough to the bad man what would happen
if he curled his fore-finger another quarter of an inch. Just as cool
and easy, you understand."
"You mean that he figured out his chances?"
"You bet you! He figured it all out, played a long shot, and won. The
point is that it wouldn't help him any if this fellow Meldrum starred
in a subsequent lynching. The man had been drinking like a blue
blotter. Had he sense enough left to know his danger? Was his brain
steady enough to hold him in check? Nobody could tell that. But your
partner gambled on it and won."
This was meat and drink to Dave. He artfully pretended to make light
of the whole affair in order to stir up the buyer to more details.
"I reckon maybe Meldrum was just bluffing. Maybe--"
"Bluffing!" The Coloradoan swelled. "Bluffing! I tell you there was
murder in the fellow's eye. He had come there primed for a killing.
If Beaudry had weakened by a hair's breadth, that forty-four would have
pumped lead into his brain. Ask the train crew. Ask the station
agent. Ask any one who was there."
"Maybeso," assented Dave dubiously. "But if he was so game, why didn't
Beaudry go back and take Meldrum's gun from him?"
The buyer was on the spot with an eager, triumphant answer. "That just
proves what I claim. He just brushed the fellow's gun aside and acted
like he'd forgot the killer had a gun. 'Course, he could 'a' gone back
and taken the gun. After what he'd already pulled off, that would have
been like stealing apples from a blind Dutchman. But Beaudry wasn't
going to give him that much consideration. Don't you see? Meldrum, or
whatever his name is, was welcome to keep the revolver to play with.
Your friend didn't care how many guns he was toting."
"I see. It he had taken the gun, Meldrum might have thought he was
afraid of him."
"Now you're shouting. As it is the bad man is backed clear off the
earth. It's like as if your partner said, 'Garnish yourself with
forty-fours if you like, but don't get gay around me.'"
"So you think--"
"I think he's some bear-cat, that young fellow. When you 're looking
for something easy to mix with, go pick a grizzly or a wild cat, but
don't you monkey with friend Beaudry. He's liable to interfere with
your interior geography. . . . Say, Dingwell. Do I get to cull this
bunch of longhorn skeletons you're misnaming cattle?"
"You do not."
The Denver man burlesqued a sigh. "Oh, well! I'll go broke dealing
with you unsophisticated Shylocks of the range. The sooner the
quicker. Send 'em down to the siding. I'll take the bunch."
Roy rode up on a pinto.
"Help! Help!" pleaded the Coloradoan of the young man.
"He means that I've unloaded this corral full of Texas dinosaurs on him
at nineteen a throw." explained Dave.
"You've made a good bargain," Beaudry told the buyer.
"'Course he has, and he knows it." Dingwell opened on Roy his gay
smile. "I hear you've had a run-in with the bad man of Chicito Canon,
son."
Roy looked at the Denver man reproachfully. Ever since the affair on
the station platform he had been flogging himself because he had driven
away and left Meldrum in possession of the field. No doubt all Battle
Butte knew now how frightened he had been. The women were gossiping
about it over their tea, probably, and men were retailing the story in
saloons and on sidewalks.
"I didn't want any trouble," he said apologetically. "I--I just left
him."
"That's what I've been hearing," assented Dave dryly. "You merely
showed him up for a false alarm and kicked him into the discard.
That's good, and it's bad. We know now that Meldrum won't fight you in
the open. You've got him buffaloed. But he'll shoot you in the back
if he can do it safely. I know the cur. After this don't ride alone,
Roy, and don't ride that painted hoss at all. Get you a nice quiet
buckskin that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of bunch grass.
Them's my few well-chosen words of advice, as Manana Bill used to say."
Three days later Beaudry, who had been superintending the extension of
an irrigation ditch, rode up to the porch of the Lazy Double D ranch
house and found Hal Rutherford, senior, with his chair tilted back
against the wall. The smoke of his pipe mingled fraternally with that
of Dingwell's cigar. He nodded genially to Roy without offering to
shake hands.
"Mr. Rutherford dropped in to give us the latest about Meldrum,"
explained Dave. "Seems he had warned our friend the crook to lay off
you, son. When Dan showed up again at the park, he bumped into Miss
Beulah and said some pleasant things to her. He hadn't noticed that
Jeff was just round the corner of the schoolhouse fixing up some dingus
as a platform for the last day's speaking. Jeff always was hot-headed.
Before he had got through with Mr. Meldrum, he had mussed his hair up
considerable. Dan tried to gun him and got an awful walloping. He hit
the trail to Jess Tighe's place. When Mr. Rutherford heard of it, he
was annoyed. First off, because of what had happened at the depot.
Second, and a heap more important, because the jailbird had threatened
Miss Beulah. So he straddled a horse and called on Dan, who shook the
dust of Huerfano Park from his bronco's hoofs _poco tiempo_."
"Where has he gone?" asked Roy.
"Nobody knows, and he won't tell. But, knowing Meldrum as we do,
Rutherford and I have come to a coincidentical opinion, as you might
say. He's a bad actor, that bird. We figure that he's waiting in the
chaparral somewhere to pull off a revenge play, after which he means
_pronto_ to slide his freight across the line to the land of old Porf.
Diaz."
"Revenge--on Jeff Rutherford--or who?"
"Son, that's a question. But Jeff won't be easily reached. On the
whole, we think you're elected."
Roy's heart sank. If Meldrum had been kicked out of Huerfano Park,
there was no room for him in New Mexico. Probably the fear of the
Rutherfords had been a restraint upon him up to this time. But now
that he had broken with them and was leaving the country, the man was
free to follow the advice of Tighe. He was a bully whose prestige was
tottering. It was almost sure that he would attempt some savage act of
reprisal before he left. Beaudry had no doubt that he would be the
victim of it.
"What am I to do, then?" he wanted to know, his voice quavering.
"Stay right here at the ranch. Don't travel from the house till we
check up on Meldrum. Soon as he shows his hand, we'll jump him and run
him out of the country. All you've got to do is to sit tight till we
locate him."
"I'll not leave the house," Roy vowed fervently.