RICHARD WHITTINGTON ARRIVES

Well, that winter rolled by without a break. Me an' Jabez had just

about learned how to take each other, an' we didn't stretch our harness

to the snappin' point. Bill Andrews had finally got tol'able well

acquainted with me also, an' was able to savvy that while peace was my

one great desire, the' was some prices that I wouldn't pay for it.

We was all het up when the graduation day finally came, an' we didn't

do a lick of work on the ranch; just gathered around the ranch

buildin's, polishin' up her harness an' hosses, an' talkin' about her

in hushed voices. She had won honors an' medals an' one thing or

another until I reckon we felt purty much as Mrs. Washington did when

she was cleanin' house to welcome the father of his country after he

had showed England where to reset the boundery stakes.

Barbie had wrote us that she was goin' to cut out a string of

invitations as long as your arm and pike right out for home as soon as

she had finished her part of the program, an' we weren't able to do a

tap until she arrived. At first I was minded to drive down after her,

an' then I decided that it would be better for me to stay at home an'

line up the boys in some sort of style to receive her. Spider Kelley

went after her and as soon as they hove in sight I had all the punchers

charge down an' shoot their guns off in the air. They was wearin' their

gaudiest raiment an' shoutin' their heads off, an' she owned up herself

that it topped anything she ever saw in the East. She stood up in the

buckboard an' took off her hat an' swung it about her head and shouted,

"Boys, you're just bully--every one of you!" an' say, the' wasn't a

puncher on the Diamond Dot that wouldn't have given up his hide to make

her a pair o' ridin' gloves. Jabez had waited back at the ranch house

an' he was tremblin' when we left him to ride down an' meet her.

Here she was, comin' back for the last time with all the learnin' of

the earth packed away in her head, an' niched up with more degrees than

a thermometer; but it hadn't changed her heart, not one grain; an' when

she saw the home buildin's with ol' Mount Savage sittin' up on his

throne an' all the little peaks bowin' before him, like pages to a

king, she jes' threw out her arms as though she would take in the whole

outfit in one big hug, an' her eyes filled up with tears as she sez,

"Oh, Dad. I love it! I love every inch of it, every line of it, every

shade of it; an' I've hungered an' thirsted for it all these years--an'

for you, Dad, for you most of all."

Well, you should have seen Jabez. Beam? Why, I reckon you could have

lit a cigar on his face, an' he fluttered around like a hen with one

chicken an' that one a duck. He couldn't quite believe that it was all

true and that he was actually awake. He had worried so long about her

cuttin' into some new game as soon as her schoolin' was done that he

hardly dared rejoice for fear it would wake him up; but it didn't take

her long to begin enjoyin' her old freedom again. It took us some

longer to adjust ourselves to her, however.

Now she hadn't changed such an awful sight, an' yet the' was somethin'

about her 'at made you feel like touchin' your hat when she issued an

order. Not that she was uppity nor nothin'; she rambled around playin'

with the colts an' the calves, an' rompin' with the dogs, an' fairly

stackin' up the whole place in little heaps. An' she rustled up her old

sombrero an' leggin's just as though she had never set a hoof off the

range. Still, the' was somethin' about her you couldn't quite put your

finger on; but which you knew in your heart was there all the time,

awaitin' till she made up her mind to call it out; like a handful o'

regulars givin' dignity to a scrawny two by twice fort in the Injun

country.

We took up our ridin' again, an' just as I was gettin' used to it,

along comes a feller lookin' about two thirds starved. His clothes was

ragged an' soiled, he had forgot his baggage, he was on foot (an' when

I say on foot, I don't only mean that he was dispensin' with the luxury

of a pony; he was also unemcumbered with soles to his boots), but he

had indoor hands, a back as straight as an Injun's, an' a way of

flingin' up his head an' drawin' down his brows when you spoke to him

sudden, which proved 'at trampin' was only a sideline with him. He put

in an application as cook for the home gang.

Ol' Cast Steel looked into him: examined his eyes, his hands, an' the

way he carried his head. Then he spoke kind o' slow an' drawly. "Cook?"

sez he. "We'll, I'd be willin' to bet 'at you've stayed up till three

o'clock a heap more times'n you have ever arose at this wholesome hour.

What can you cook?"

Well, the feller he laughed, an' sez, "You win. I own up 'at I ain't no

cook, nor I ain't no cow puncher; but my pension has stopped an' my

appetite is still runnin'. I never yet recall readin' no notice of any

cook what died of starvation."

Jabez grinned. "I don't ask no man about his past," sez he. "No man

knows nothin' about his future. As for the present, you can help with

the cookin'. Flap Jack is due for his bender, week after next, an' if

you can learn the trade by that time you'll come in handy."

'Twas the first time I ever heard of Cast Steel vary his hirin' speech;

so I knew 'at he too had the feller spotted for a stray; but he rolled

up his sleeves an' started to peel spuds for the evenin' slum. He said

that his name was Richard Whittington, an' while he didn't talk overly

extensive about himself, he wasn't nowise offish nor snarly. He did his

work up to the limit too, an' even of Flap Jack didn't complain as much

as he generally did whenever he was furnished with a little extra help.

The peculiar thing was the way 'at Barbie treated him. She came down to

the cook shack soon after he landed, with a lot of Jabez' old clothes

an' a pair of boots, 'cause anything in distress got to her heart by

the shortest cut. She came lopin' along with about fifteen dogs,

whistlin' an' hummin' an' sort o' dancin' up in the air like a young

angel; but the minute she saw him she sobered up, an' after he had

thanked her, which he did in book langwidge, she simply pulled down the

blinds an' locked the door. It was mighty curious an' set us all to

talkin', 'cause she treated us fellers just as friendly as the rest of

the stock; but Dick made a bad impression right at the start, an' we

kept our eyes on him for the first crooked move.

He was a restless feller, was Dick, allus askin' questions about breeds

an' fencin' an' winter feeds an' marketin'. Said he liked to have

somethin' to study about when his hands was workin'. Barbie left one of

her books out in the wagon-shed one day an' Dick found it. He curled

right up on a cushion an' begun to read. That was the very day 'at

Flappy was to start off on his periodical, an' he had made all his

preparations so that everything would be in apple-pie order. When

dinner went by an' no deputy showed up he ground out several canticles

of profanity; but when supper time hove in sight and nairy a report

from the substitute hash-herder, he fairly stood on tiptoe an' screamed

his woes into what they call the wel-kin; an' you can bet that Flappy

made her welk all right.

He had been training for this jag for full three months, an' the thirst

he had built up was somethin' for the whole ranch to be proud of; an'

all the boys was full of sympathy an' interest, an' wanted him to have

every show in the world. They wanted his mind to be utterly free from

care, so that he could give his full attention to tackin' up a Diamond

Dot record that would arouse the envy of the entire West, an' Flappy

was in fine shape to do it.

We all started out to find Dick, whether he was still hidin' around the

ranch or had started to hike; but it was Barbie herself who found him.

She came racin' along with a herd of dogs, friskin' an' rompin' the

same as they was; but when she came onto Dick readin' her book she

simmered down immejet. When he looked up an' saw her he seemed like a

feller wakin' up out of a dream. It didn't break on him all at once;

but when it did, he looked as guilty as a sheep-herder. He stood up an'

bowed an' helt out the book an' stammered, an' all in all, it was

painful to watch 'em. None of us was able to figger out why they acted

this way ever time they happened to meet; but they did.

Well, after he'd apologized a couple o' chapters she told him 'at she

was nearly through with the book, an' if he'd come up to the house

after supper she'd be glad to let him take it. After supper up he went

to the house an' sent ol' Mellisse in for it. When he got it he went

back to the cook-shack an' stayed up all night readin' it. One of the

boys what got in about two o'clock said 'at he was just about half

through with it the second time when he came along. Books is the same

as opium to some folks. After that Barbie used to send him down books

purty often, an' he used to get a world of comfort out of 'em.

One afternoon when Dick was cookin' up a stew Jabez came out an' sat on

a cracker-box talkin' to him. He allus seemed to have a likin' for

Dick, an' used to chat with him right consid'able. This afternoon he

got to spreadin' himself about how much money the place handled every

year an' how much the' was invested in it, an' what a great thing the

cattle industry was to the entire country. Jabez had his vanities all

right, an' he used to parade 'em occasional an' got a heap o' comfort

out of 'em. Dick went along seasonin' an' addin' an' stirrin' an' not

seemin' to pay a mite of attention, until finally Jabez got tired of

appreciatin' himself, an' sez, "Well, what do you think of this little

plant anyway?"

"Do you like the scenery around here, or do you have to live here on

account of your health?" sez Dick, sort of unconcerned like.

Jabez looked at him about a minute to kind of get the drift of his

remark, an' then he sez, "What do you mean by that?"

"Why," sez Dick, "you ain't makin' two percent profit, an' I was just

wonderin' what you stayed here for--if it wasn't for somethin' else

beside the filthy looger."

Jabez, he jumps to his feet an' goes all through it again, tellin' all

he has took in an' all he has paid out; while Dick kept attendin' to

his pots an' pans the same as if he was stone deaf. Jabez rattled on an

ended up with: "An' this here ranch has the best water an' the best

range an' the best shelter of any ranch in the state. What do you think

of that?"

"Why, I think it all the more reason why it should pay a business

profit," drawls Dick. "Only last week I heard you complainin' somethin'

fierce because you had to put up for a new freight-wagon. The great

trouble with you is that you don't have no system. You need a manager,

a man who takes an interest in modern progress, a man who sees that the

rest o' the men pay a profit. I don't mean a foreman, you got plenty o'

them. I mean a business man. You ain't no business man; you don't like

it."

Well, Jabez was stupefied. He'd never had no wage-earner dump advice on

him before, an' here was a tramp, as you might say, who started in by

telling him that what he really needed was some one to run his business

for him. He didn't fly up through. He just rose an' gave Dick a

searchin' look, an' then he meandered up to the house; an' you could

tell by the very droop of his shoulders that what he was doin' was

thinkin'.

The upshot of it was that when Flappy was hauled out to the ranch the

next week, an' as soon as he got so he could tell fire from water, Dick

fitted up an office in the North wing; an' about fifteen minutes

afterward we all felt the difference. From that on everything ran like

a round-up. Dick didn't boss none, he just pointed out the best way,

an' we did it. All those answers we had told him about calves an'

winter hay an' such-like had simply gone in one ear--an' stuck to the

inside of his mental gearing. He discovered that Jabez had been stuck

for further orders on most of his supplies, an' had allus managed to

win the bottom price whenever it came his turn to make a sale.

Well, Dick was a perpetual surprise party. You could tell by the color

of his skin that he was an indoor man; but he sat a hoss like a cow

puncher, an' as soon as he got things runnin' to suit him on our place

he got to makin' side trips to the other ranches. He would spend two

hours talkin' about the weather; but at the end o' that time, he knew

more about a man's outfit than the owner himself. Then he ordered out a

lot of stock papers, an' the first thing we knew, we was askin' him

questions about things 'at we'd allus supposed we savvied from tail to

muzzle. He seemed to like me more'n the rest, an' chose me out to be

his ridin' pal an' what he called an A. D. Kong, which was simply the

French for messenger boy; but Dick never unloaded a lot of talk about

himself. You wouldn't notice it, but he allus managed to have the other

feller do most o' the talkin'.

When winter came he took a trainload o' cattle clear to Chicago an'

brought back twenty bulls--dandies! Big white-faced fellers with

pool-table backs an' stocky legs, an' they sure made the other stuff

look like the champion scrubs of creation. No one in our parts had ever

seen such cattle, an' for the rest of the winter we helt a fair an'

booked enough orders for calves to make a man nervous. Jabez had gone

along, an' it must have ganted him consid'able to heave out the wampum

for that bunch; but you should have seen him swell up when folks got to

talkin' about 'em. He was game though, an' gave Dick the credit. He

thought Dick was the whole manuver by this time.

Barbie an' Dick had got over givin' antelope starts every time they

met; but they wasn't what you would call friendly by a long ways. Dick

had worn a rough lookin' beard when he first arrived; but afterward he

had trimmed it to a point, an' it made him look some like a doctor. His

ears were set tight to his head, an' he had a proud nose; but it was

his hands an' his eyes that set him apart. His hands were fair size but

white, an' they stayed white. They had a nervous way of fussin' around

with things whenever he got to thinkin'; but after all, the thing that

was the final call was his eyes. They were bright an' set in under

heavy brows; but they never seemed tryin' to bend you, like some eyes

do, they just seemed so completely sure of what they saw, an' they

seemed to have seen so much beforehand, that a feller was tempted to

stick to the truth in front of 'em--even when it wasn't altogether

convenient. Dick was the first cold-blooded man I ever liked, an' he

was sure cold-blooded at this period.

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