THE TROUBLE IS STARTED.
The crowd of men and youths opened out in front of Ted, and he strode
into the circle.
There he saw Jack Slate in a much disheveled condition, dressed in his
evening clothes.
Ted gasped as he stared for an instant at the youth from Boston.
He wanted to tell Jack that "it served him right," but that was not the
part of loyalty, and in the presence of the enemy it did not make any
difference to a broncho boy if his pard was right or wrong, if he was in
need of help.
"Where is the fellow who was going to throw me around?" asked Ted,
looking into the faces about him.
No one replied, although Ted waited for a moment or two before looking
at Billy Sudden.
Billy winked at him, but said nothing.
"Seems as if somebody's sand has run out," said Ted contemptuously.
"Oh, I don't know," said Wiley Creviss. "There's plenty of sand left if
you need any to prevent your wheels from slipping downhill."
"No, my sand box is always full," said Ted quietly. "But there is some
sneak in this bunch who hasn't the nerve to back up his brag."
"Are you talking to me?" said Creviss, swelling up as to chest.
"Oh, are you the misguided chump whom I heard make the remark about
pushing me about, as I came up?" said Ted, in a tone of surprise.
The cowboys from Suggs' ranch were snickering.
"Well, what if I was?"
"I'm going to make you try it."
"Oh, I can do it, all right."
"Well, why don't you? I'm the easiest proposition you ever saw to be
hazed by a bunch of hoodlums, such as you and your pals are!"
"For two cents I'd punch your nose."
"You're too cheap. I'll give you a heap more than that if you will. It's
been so long since my nose was punched that it feels sort of lonesome.
I'll pay you well for the job, if you succeed in pulling off the stunt."
"You think you're the whole works because you've got a crowd of dudes
around you. You're not the only dent in the can."
Ted flushed at this allusion to his pards.
"I'll put a dent in you if you open your face to remark about my friends
again," he said, with some heat.
"See here, you town rough, you better take in your slack and clear out
for home, or you'll begin to taste the sorrows that come from
inexperience and bad judgment," said Billy Sudden to Creviss.
"It's up to you to mind your own business," snarled Creviss. "What are
you but a lot of greasy cow-punchers. We haven't much use for your sort
in this town, anyway."
"Now, son, keep quiet and behave yourself," said Billy paternally. "If
you get me riled I won't be as patient with you as Ted Strong has been.
I'll fix you so as to keep two doctors busy the best part of the night."
"What are you fellows butting in for, anyhow?" said Creviss angrily.
"Can't this freak that comes here in a dress suit and tries to lord it
over us take care of himself?"
"Surest thing you know," drawled Jack Slate. "But there are ladies here,
a thing you don't seem to realize. If you'll step outside, I'd be glad
to whip you right and propah."
"What's the use, Jack, of fussing with these rowdies?" said Ted. "Let it
go until some other time."
"You bet," said Creviss, courage returning when he heard Ted propose
peace. "I guess you'd like to let it go forever."
"That settles it," said Ted. "Go to him, Jack, and if you don't give him
what's coming to him, I'll finish the job."
"Git!" said Billy Sudden, opening the door and shoving Creviss out into
the street. The rest followed.
As Jack stepped into the open air he peeled off his swallow-tailed coat
and threw it over Ted's arm.
He had no sooner done so than Wiley Creviss made a rush at him from the
front, while one of the crowd ran in on him from the rear.
It seemed an unequal beginning, and Ted was preparing to take on the
second fellow.
But Jack had seen him out of the corner of his eye, and as he came on
the Boston boy stepped backward and threw his right elbow up.
It was a timely and masterly trick, for the sharp elbow caught Creviss'
ally full in the nose, and he dropped like a limp rag to the ground,
with a howl of anguish.
At the same moment Jack swung his left. Creviss had struck at him and
missed when he back-stepped, and coming on swiftly ran into Jack's fist
with a thud that jarred him into a state of collapse.
"Finish him!" shouted the cow-punchers, who stood about the fighters in
a circle.
"Go to him," said Ted, in a low voice. "I saw him signal his pal to
tackle you from behind."
Creviss had partially recovered from the blow and was getting ready for
another rush, when Jack slipped in and to one side and hit like a
blacksmith at the anvil.
This time Creviss went down and out.
"Hooray fer ther bantam!" shouted a big cow-puncher, slapping Jack on
the back. "Say, I hear them say you're from Bosting. I'm goin' ter buy a
hundred-pound sack o' beans myself ter-morrer an' begin trainin'. If
beans'll do that fer you, a sack o' them will make me fit ter lick Jess
Willard."
But Jack was busy smoothing down his ruffled hair and pulling his white
lawn tie around into its proper place, and when he had put on his coat
he and Ted walked into the ballroom as calmly as if they had just
stepped out to view the stars.
"What was the trouble?" asked Stella, when they reached her side.
"Some town rowdies became noisy, and they were put out," answered Ted
carelessly.
But Jack's dress suit was the joy of the cow-punchers, who had never
seen anything like it before, although they all knew that it was the way
well-groomed men dressed for evening in the big cities.
"Say, pard," said a cowboy to Jack, as he crossed the room, "I axes yer
pardon fer buttin' in, but yer lost ther front part o' yer coat tails."
"That's all right," answered Jack. "Can't help it, don't you know. I
left the blooming coat hanging on the line at home to air, and a goat
came along and ate the front half of the tails off before I could get to
it. I was just on my way to apologize to the master of ceremonies for
it. You see, it is the only coat I have, and I was bound to come to the
ball."
"Ha, ha! that's on you, 'Honk,'" laughed the cowboy's friends, who had
overheard the conversation, and Jack passed on, the boys alluding to him
as a "game little shrimp," for the news of his summary punishment of
Creviss had got abroad.
But Jack was not through yet. He went into the men's dressing room to
leave his hat. As he was coming out he was met by a crowd of town
youths, friends of Creviss. There was no one else about.
They scowled and sneered at Jack, and one of them bumped into him.
"Heah, fellah, that will do," said Jack, with his Bostonese drawl.
"You're solid; you're no sponge."
"I ain't, eh?" answered the bully. "I'll tell yer, Mr. Slate, you're
covered with bad marks what I don't like, an' I'm just the sponge to
wipe them off."
"Step lively, then," said Jack, "for I've an engagement to dance the
next waltz."
"I'll waltz you all you'll need this evenin'."
But before he had finished speaking Ben Tremont stepped around the
corner.
"Hello, Jack! What is this I see?" said Ben. "Disgracing yourself by
talking with these hoodlums."
"Yas, deah boy," drawled Jack. "This--er, what shall I call
him?--stopped me to tell me he was going to rub the marks off me, at the
same time wittily making a pun on my name. I was just telling him to
hurry, or I'd miss the next waltz."
"Well, I'll take the job off your hands. Stella was asking for you a
moment ago."
"Yes, run along to your Stella," said the hoodlum. "I reckon she's
pining for the sassiety o' another dude."
That was where he made the mistake of his life.
It didn't really make much difference what these fellows said about
themselves, but the boys would not permit Stella's name to be bandied
about by the roughs.
So swiftly, that they didn't know what had happened to them, both Ben
and Jack sailed into them.
They went sprawling like tenpins before the ball as Ben jumped in among
them and mowed them down with his powerful blows, while Jack, hovering
like a torpedo boat around a battleship, sent in several of the telling
blows Ted had taught him during the boxing lessons at Moon Valley.
The fight was soon over, and Ben and Jack slipped quietly back into the
ballroom, leaving a well-thrashed crowd to stanch bloody noses, and
patch up swollen lips and black eyes as best they could.
Meanwhile, a diversion had been created in the hall by the joshing that
the Suggs' ranch outfit had directed toward the fiddler, who knew only
one tune, and sawed that off for a waltz, quadrilles, and two-steps,
without fear or favor.
The musician had been engaged because he was a friend of the
beneficiary, and had volunteered his services. As the ball grew more and
more hilarious the cow-punchers felt the restraint of the folks from the
fort and Moon Valley the less, and began to take it out of the fiddler,
who paid no attention to them, but kept on scraping.
Suddenly there was a crack from a revolver and the top of the fiddler's
bow was knocked off, and the playing and dancing stopped simultaneously.
There was more or less commotion, but the women did not scream or get
panic-stricken. They were used to that sort of thing.
Nobody knew who had fired the shot, but the cowboys and soldiers were
mad clear through because there was no more music to dance by.
The shot had come from the part of the hall in which the coatroom was
situated, and directly afterward two slender young fellows climbed out a
rear window, and a few moments later Billy Sudden and Clay Whipple came
calmly through the front door and joined the throng about the musician,
who said:
"Honest, folks, I don't blame no hombre fer takin' a shot at thet fiddle
bow o' mine, fer I never could make it work right. I know it was bum
music, but it was the best I could do."
Ted Strong had observed the quiet entrance of Billy and Clay directly
after the shooting, and he put this and that together. He knew that both
of them were finished musicians. Clay Whipple was an exceptionally good
violin player, and Ted had often heard Billy Sudden make a piano fairly
sing. Evidently they had got to the point where they could stand the
fiddler's music no longer, and had put a stop to it.
But for all the badness of the music the people should not be deprived
of their dance.
He hunted up the culprits, who were hovering on the outskirts of the
crowd, listening to the threats against and denouncing the vandals who
had "shot up" the fiddler.
"See here, you hombres, I'm on to you," said Ted. "Now you've got to do
the square thing. You've beaten the dancers out of the music, and you've
got to get in and furnish it, or I'll tell these punchers who plugged
the fiddler's bow."
"How did you get on to it?" said Clay, with a grin.
"Never mind. Is it a go?"
"I reckon it'll have to be," said Clay, looking suggestively at Billy
Sudden.
"All right," said Billy.
The cow-punchers, who had come to dance with the girls from the ranches,
were growing angry, and were telling what they would do to the fellow
who had spoiled their fun if they caught him, when Ted Strong stepped
upon the platform, and, holding up his hand for silence, said:
"Gentlemen, please do not get obstreperous. You shall have all the
dancing you want. Ladies, please be patient; the music that is to follow
is such as has never been heard at a dance in this part of the country.
Mr. Clay Whipple, of the Moon Valley Ranch, and Mr. Billy Sudden, of
the Dumb-bell Ranch, will play the violin and piano respectively. Both
of them are cow-punchers, so don't take any liberties with them, or some
one will get hurt."
There was such cheering that the roof almost went off as Clay hunted up
a violin and tuned it.
Then began a waltz such as they had never heard, and in a moment the
floor was covered with dancers, the officers in their uniforms, and the
ladies in their light dresses, adding beauty to the scene. But the
finest-looking couple on the floor was Stella and the leader of the
broncho boys.
Just before the dance began Bud approached Stella, and said:
"See that gal over thar? Ther one with ther corn-silk bang? She is mine,
an' I'm goin' ter dance this with her; see? She's ther kind o' girl I
admire. She's shore corn-fed, an' some woman."
"Don't you know who that is?" asked Stella.
"'Deed an' I don't, but I soon will. Who is she?"
"That's Sophy Cozak, from over on the Bohemian prairie. She's rich,
Bud."
"I don't care nothin' erbout thet. She's shaped up jest erbout right.
Yaller hair, and soft as feathers. Watch my smoke."
Bud sauntered over to the girl, who was really pretty and fat and pink.
Apparently he was talking his usual nonsense to her, for she smiled,
then arose from her chair, and went sailing around the room, Bud's
partner in the waltz, and every time they passed Ted and Stella in the
waltz Bud winked at them.
Later, however, he met the irate escort of the girl, when he took her
back to her seat, and they glared at one another for a moment; then the
escort walked off, leaving Bud master of the situation.
After this came the "sour-dough" quadrille, in which only old-timers
were permitted to dance, and Bud led it with Mrs. "Cow" Suggs to the
tune of "Turkey in the Straw."
But finally, as the ball was drawing to a close, Ted heard Stella utter
a slight scream, and saw her trying to draw her hand away from a young
fellow, whose back was turned to him.
He was across the room in an instant, and had the fellow by the
shoulders and swung him around. It was Wiley Creviss, who had been
drinking.
"What has this cur been doing?" asked Ted.
"He insisted on dancing with me, and when I told him I would not, he
said he'd make me," answered Stella. "Then he caught hold of me, and I
suppose I cried out, although I didn't mean to. That is what comes of
wearing these clothes. If I'd had on my others, I'd have had my gun with
me."
Ted had heard enough. There was a window close by, which was about ten
feet above the sidewalk. Ted rushed the struggling and cursing Creviss
toward it, and by sheer strength lifted him to the sill and threw him
out.
"I guess we've had about enough of this," he said quietly, when he
returned to Stella. "No more mixed balls for mine."
As Ted was escorting Stella to the carriage, Billy Sudden ranged up
alongside of him.
"Look out for Creviss and his bunch on the way home. They're telling
around what they're going to do with you. Want any help?"
"No, I reckon not, Billy. Our bunch can take care of them."
"They are going to try to kill you to-night."