Burying the Hatchet
There was tender grass to be munched. There was warm sun to bask in.
There was the placid river to drink from. Yet of cattle there was
none, nor any sign of them.
“Just in time to be late!” Bug Eye groaned, and rested on his
paddle.
“They may be further on,” Teddy remarked hopefully. “Beyond the
rise, there.”
“Much beyond,” Roy said bitterly. “If they were there, some would
wander off to this range. Yet we’ll look.”
Once more the canoe went forward, this time slowly, dispiritedly.
Their journey had been in vain. Their cattle were gone.
As Roy had feared, once past the rise in the land, they saw that
surely the herd had departed. Pop said nothing, but sat and smoked
in silence, his paddle dragging. Bug Eye made a few remarks under
his breath.
“We’ll have to land and find Jake Trummer,” Teddy declared. “That
gang we heard on the river at night has been here before us.”
“They rustled ’em, hey?” Bug Eye asked inanely.
“Exactly,” Teddy replied. “How far away they’ve gotten with them,
there’s no telling. We’re worse than useless without broncs. We’ll
have to wait for dad.”
“You’ll not have to do much waitin’,” Pop remarked suddenly. “I seen
General just over that hill.”
“With dad on him?” Teddy questioned eagerly.
“Nope. Guess he’s up at the ranch house talkin’ to Trummer.
General’s been turned out to grass. We’ll beach, an’ walk over.”
“How far?” Bug Eye wanted to know.
“Four miles. Do you good. We can leave the stuff here. Be all right.
Trummer is the only man I know who’s got his range in his back
yard.”
The canoe was driven ashore, and Teddy leaped out.
“If we hadn’t hit that rock,” he said bitterly, “we could have been
here before the rustlers and saved the cows.”
“Mebby,” Pop said laconically. “There’s lots of things to be
considered. We’ll see yore dad first, an’ talk later.”
The four set off across country, after having pulled the canoe up
out of reach of the water. As they walked, they turned frequently,
as though they expected to find the missing cattle. The way was
long, but evening brought coolness, and they were not tired when
they came in sight of the ranch house.
Jake Trummer’s place was like a hundred others in the state. The
low, broad building where the “boss” and his family lived, the
high-fenced corral; the bunk-house; and, separated a little from it,
the cook house. A few horses were in the corral, and among them
Teddy recognized the bronc Nat Raymond usually rode.
“All here but General,” Roy murmured. “You said you saw him out on
the range, Pop. Then dad must be inside.”
Coming nearer the ranch house, a mutter of voices reached them. Loud
above the others, sounded Jake Trummer’s, with his repeated:
“You hear me, now--you hear me!”
“Hot times,” Bug Eye remarked.
Then they reached the side steps, and another speaker interrupted.
The voice was low, but vibrant.
“That’s dad,” Roy said tensely. “He’s good and mad about something.”
“Jake Trummer,” Mr. Manley was saying, “I’ve known you for a long
time. An’ I never thought you’d pull a low-down trick like this.”
“Bardwell Manley, you go careful! I kin only stand so much! You’re
at my house, my guest, an’ as such I respect you. But you hear me
when I tell you I didn’t touch your dogies, an’ I mean it. An’ if
you’re wantin’ to call me a liar to my face, start now!”
“But, Jake you tole me you’d drive ’em into the river, an’ when I
get here they’re gone! What would you say in a case like that? Don’t
it _look_ as if you’d done it?”
“But I tell you I didn’t! They was there last night. To-day they was
gone. That’s all I know about ’em.”
“Well--” Mr. Manley shook his head, and at that moment Roy bounded
up the steps.
“Dad! We’re here at last. Had a tough time of it.”
“Roy! Teddy! Glad to see you, boys. I was beginnin’ to worry, but I
figured you might have been delayed on account of the storm. And now
you’re here--” he spread his hands expressively--“we might as well
turn around an’ go home. The cows are gone. Trummer--”
“Wait, Dad,” Teddy said quickly. “You’re wrong. Mr. Trummer had
nothing to do with the cattle being stolen.”
“Stolen! How do you know that? Who stole ’em? Jake Trummer--”
“Give the boy a chance, Bardwell!” Mr. Trummer interrupted testily.
“He knows more about it than you do. Let him speak.”
“It’s just this,” Teddy went on, with a look at the others. “Two
nights ago we camped by the stream, because the storm came up, and
we couldn’t see our way clear to taking a chance on keeping afloat.
Late at night--at least it seemed late--Roy and I walked down to the
river, leavin’ Pop an’ Bug Eye by the fire. That right, Pop?”
The veteran nodded.
“Yuh tell it, Teddy. Yuh know more about it than what I do.”
“We headed for the river,” the boy went on, “and when we got there
we heard some men talking. They were in a boat on the stream. Some
one they called Denver--”
“Denver!” Jake Trummer broke in. “That’s--But go ahead, son. I’ll
have my say later,” he added, with a glance at Mr. Manley.
“This Denver had a plan to rustle our cattle that had strayed over
here, an’ he aimed to let you think Mr. Trummer did as he had
threatened,” Teddy went on swiftly. “They’d found out, somehow,
about the whole business; maybe from The Pup, though he didn’t
appear to be with them. They were going to drive the cows off at
night, and, by golly, that’s what they did!”
For a moment there was silence. Mr. Manley looked at Jake Trummer,
his face a deep red. Then he threw back his head and thrust out his
hand.
“Jake,” he said falteringly, “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ now. I’ve done
all my talkin’--a sight too much, I reckon. I’ll stay dumb for the
rest of my life. But if you can forgive an old fool--”
With a grin, Jake Trummer clasped the hand offered him, and gripped
hard.
“We all make mistakes,” he said softly. “I made the first one. All
the forgivin’ to be done ain’t on my side. I come to you like a bag
o’ wind an’ shot my mouth off when I shouldn’t. Some hand of yourn
told one of my men that the orders were to let the cattle stray as
far as they wanted, on my range if possible, because the grazin’ was
good an’ they needed fattenin’. I was a fool to believe it.”
“The Pup!” Teddy and Roy exclaimed in the same breath.
“Was he tall, Mr. Trummer?” Teddy asked. “Dark?”
“Never saw him,” Mr. Trummer answered, releasing Mr. Manley’s hand.
“He told one of my men. Well, Bardwell, we’ll forget it. We were
both wrong, I, mebby, more than you. Now let’s get this thing
straight. First I want to ask yore boy: Did that man you said they
called Denver have a high-pitched, cracked voice?”
“I’ll tell a maverick he did!” Roy replied excitedly. “High as a
girl’s, almost. Why?”
“That was Denver Smith,” Mr. Trummer declared. “They’re the last of
the old gangs, an’ the sooner they go the better. They make their
headquarters on the banks of Whirlpool River an’ try to pick up tips
they can use in their business, which is everything from
high-jackin’ to rustlin’. I pity the man that rides that river road
alone an’ with money in his pocket. They’d get him sure. Yep, boys,
it was Denver Smith an’ his bunch fer a sure bet. What did they say,
again?”
“They were planning to steal our cattle and let you take the blame,”
Roy replied. “They knew you’d had an argument with dad up on our
ranch, though I don’t know how.”
“It’ll be the last one we’ll have, eh, Bardwell?” Mr. Trummer said,
and grinned. “As fer them findin’ out, they have ways an’ means. But
that’s not the point. Yore cattle’s gone, Bardwell. What you aimin’
to do?”
“Get ’em back!” Mr. Manley said grimly. “I hate to ask it, Jake; but
if you can spare a few horses for the boys, here--”
“Spare a few horses?” Mr. Trummer ejaculated. “What kind of a game
is this, Bardwell?”
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Manley muttered, and turned away. “I kind of
thought--”
“Spare a few _horses_! By cripes, you got nerve! An’ what about me?
Think I’ll stay here? We’ll ride together, like we done before,
Bardwell! You can have all the horses yuh want; but yuh got to take
me with ’em! We’ll get them rustlers, an’ every one of yore cows!
Spare a few _horses_! Huh! I’ll spare more than that! You hear me?”
Mr. Manley grinned. He clapped his friend on the back, and then
laughed.
“For a minute yuh had me scared, Jake. But I might o’ known--I might
o’ known. We ride together, then. Tell yore cook to throw some
victuals together. Boys, I’m sure glad you showed up! We’ll clean up
Denver Smith an’ his gang--an’ dry-clean ’em at that! Saddle what
broncs Jake wants to give you, an’ we’ll eat an’ get!”