"Ah yes; but wait. We cattle-men had large herds, and the _probabilities_
were that the calf belonged to some one of us; whereas, the cowboy, having
no herd at all, _knew_ the maverick belonged to some one's herd. True, the
law said it was his, but the law did not mean to reward the freebooter;
yet that is exactly what it did. At first only a few outlaws took
advantage of it; but hard years came on, the cattle business became less
and less profitable, we were forced to lay off our men, and so at last the
range swarmed with idle cow-punchers; then came the breakdown in our
scheme! The cowboys took to 'mavericking' on their own account. Some of
them had the grace to go into partnership with some farmer, and so claim a
small bunch of cows, but others suddenly and miraculously acquired herds
of their own. From keeping within the law, they passed to violent methods.
They slit the tongues of calves for the purpose of separating them from
their mothers. Finding he could not suck, bossy would at last wander away
from his dam, and so become a 'maverick.' In short, anarchy reigned on the
range."
"But surely my father had nothing to do with this?"
"No; your father, up to this time, had been on good terms with everybody.
He had a small herd of cattle down the river, which he owned in common
with a man named Hart."
"I remember him."
"He was well thought of by all the big outfits; and when the situation
became intolerable, and we got together to weed out 'the rustlers,' as
these cattle-thieves were called, your father was approached and converted
to a belief in drastic measures. He had suffered less than the rest of us
because of his small herd and the fact that he was very popular among the
cowboys. So far as I was concerned, the use of violent methods revolted
me. My training in the East had made me a respecter of the law. 'Change
the law,' I said. 'The law is all right,' they replied; 'the trouble is
with these rustlers. We'll hang a few of 'em, and that will break up the
business.'"
Parts of this story came back to the girl's mind, producing momentary
flashes of perfect recollection. She heard again the voices of excited men
arguing over and over the question of "mavericking," and she saw her
father as he rode up to the house that last day before he went South.
Redfield went on. "The whole plan as developed was silly, and I wonder
still that Ed Wetherford, who knew 'the nester' and the cowboy so well,
should have lent his aid to it. The cattle-men--some from Cheyenne, some
from Denver, and a few from New York and Chicago--agreed to finance a sort
of Vigilante Corps composed of men from the outside, on the understanding
that this policing body should be commanded by one of their own number.
Your father was chosen second in command, and was to guide the party; for
he knew almost every one of the rustlers, and could ride directly to their
doors."
"I wish he hadn't done that," murmured the girl.
"I must be frank with you, Virginia. I can't excuse that in him. It was a
kind of treachery. He must have been warped by his associates. They
convinced him by some means that it was his duty, and one fine day the
Fork was startled by a messenger, who rode in to say that the
cattle-barons were coming with a hundred Texas bad men 'to clean out the
town,' and to put their own men into office. This last was silly rot to
me, but the people believed it."
The girl was tingling now. "I remember! I remember the men who rode into
the town to give the alarm. Their horses were white with foam; their heads
hung down, and their sides went in and out. I pitied the poor things.
Mother jumped on her pony, and rode out among the men. She wanted to go
with them, but they wouldn't let her. I was scared almost breathless."
"I was in Sulphur City, and did not hear of it till it was nearly all
over," Redfield resumed, his speech showing a little of the excitement
which thrilled through the girl's voice. "Well, the first act of vengeance
was so ill-considered that it practically ended the whole campaign. The
invaders fell upon and killed two ranchers--one of whom was probably not a
rustler at all, but a peaceable settler, and the other one they most
barbarously hanged. More than this, they attacked and vainly tried to kill
two settlers whom they met on the road--German farmers, with no
connection, so far as known, with the thieves. These men escaped, and gave
the alarm. In a few hours the whole range was aflame with vengeful fire.
The Forks, as you may recall, was like a swarm of bumblebees. Every man
and boy was armed and mounted. The storekeepers distributed guns and
ammunition, leaders developed, and the embattled 'punkin rollers,'
rustlers, and townsmen rode out to meet the invaders."
The girl paled with memory of it. "It was terrible! I went all day without
eating, and for two nights we were all too excited to sleep. It seemed as
if the world were coming to an end. Mother cried because they wouldn't let
her go with them. She didn't know father was leading the other army."
"She must have known soon, for it was reported that your father was among
them. She certainly knew when they were driven to earth in that log fort,
for they were obliged to restrain her by force from going to your father.
As I run over those furious days it all seems incredible, like a sudden
reversal to barbarism."
"How did it all end? The soldiers came, didn't they?"
"Yes; the long arm of Uncle Sam reached out and took hold upon the necks
of both parties. I guess your father and his band would have died right
there had not the regular army interfered. It only required a sergeant
wearing Uncle Sam's uniform to come among those armed and furious cowboys
and remove their prisoners."
"I saw that. It was very strange--that sergeant was so young and so
brave."