THE STAGE ARRIVES
The Timber City stage creaked and rattled as the horses toiled up the
long slope of the Dog Creek divide. The driver dozed on his seat, his
eyes protected from the glare of the hot June sun by the wide brim of
his hat, opened mechanically at intervals to glance along the white,
dusty trail. Inside, Winthrop Adams Endicott smiled as he noted the
eager enthusiasm with which his young wife scanned the panorama of
mountains and plain that stretched endlessly away to disappear in a
jumble of shimmering heat waves.
"Oh, Win! Don't you just _love_ it? The big black mountains with their
girdles of green timber, the miles, and miles, and miles of absolute
emptiness, the smell of the sage--yes, and the very rattle of this bumpy
old stage!"
Endicott laughed: "I believe you do love it----"
"Love it! Of course I love it! And so do you love it! And you were just
as crazy about coming as I was--only you wouldn't admit it. It's just as
Tex said that day way up on top of Antelope Butte. He was speaking of
you and he said: 'He'll go back East and the refinement will cover him
up again--and that's a damned shame. But he won't be just the same,
because the prejudice is gone. He's chewed the meat of the cow country
and found it good.' I've always remembered that, and it's true--you are
not just the same, dear," she reached over and took his hand in both of
hers. "And, oh, Win--I'm glad--glad!"
Endicott smiled as he raised the slim hand to his lips: "Considerable of
a philosopher--Tex. And cowboy par excellence. I hope we can find him.
If we buy the ranch I've been counting on him to manage it."
"We've got to find him! And dear Old Bat, too! And, Win, won't it be
just _grand_? We'll live out here in the summer and in the winter we'll
go to New York and Florida, and we'll never, never go back to old
Half-Way Between. The place fairly reeks of soap and whisky--and I don't
care if their old soap does float!"
Again, Endicott laughed: "I suppose it will do us lots of good. I'll
probably spend my days in the saddle and come home smelling of horses,
and covered with alkali dust."
"Horses smell better than gas, anyway, and alkali dust is cleaner than
coal-soot. Look, Win, quick! A family of Indians camped beside the
trail--see the scrawny, sneaky-looking dogs and the ponies with their
feet tied together, and the conical tepee. And, oh, on that red
blanket--the darlingest little brown papoose! I can hardly wait to get
into my riding clothes and gallop for miles! And, Win, dear, you've just
got to promise me that if we do buy the ranch, you'll never bring a
motor out here--not even a roadster--it would spoil everything!"
"Don't set your heart too strongly on buying that ranch," cautioned her
husband.
"But the man said he'd sell at a reasonable figure."
"Yes, but you must remember that a 'reasonable figure', when you're
talking about an outfit that runs ten thousand head of cattle mounts up
into big money. It all depends upon the terms."
"Well, if he wants to sell his old ranch, he'd be foolish to haggle over
a little thing like terms. Some way, I just feel it in my bones that
we're going to buy. A woman has intuition--you wait and see."
"Colston was to meet us at Timber City today, and tomorrow we'll ride
out and look over the ranch. Do you think you're up to a sixty-mile
ride?"
"Sixty! I could ride six hundred!" The brake-shoes creaked as the driver
drew his horses up for a breathing spell at the top of the divide.
"See!" Alice cried, pointing far out into the foothills. "There is
Timber City, with its little wooden buildings huddled against the pines
exactly as it was a year ago today when we looked back at it from this
very spot. And way beyond you can see the river glistening in the sun,
and beyond that are the bad lands." Involuntarily she shuddered: "It's
all as vivid as though it had happened yesterday--the dust storm, and
the terrible thirst--only you and Tex cheated and gave me all the
water."
Endicott nodded: "I don't think we'll ever forget it--it was a mighty
close call for all of us." The stage descended the long slope and wound
in and out among the foothills, its two occupants contenting themselves
with watching the lazy wheeling of the buzzards against the blue, and
the antics of the prairie dogs that scolded and chickered at the stage,
only to dive incontinently into their holes at its approach. The little
steepleless church loomed up before them, and Endicott glanced at his
watch: "Four o'clock," he announced, "I wonder if Colston is waiting?"
"Well, if he is, he can wait a little longer," smiled Alice. "Because
the first thing we do after we have removed some of this dust, will be
to go right over and call on the Camerons--there's the cottage now,
dear--just think, a year ago today we stood in that little corner room
and Mr. Cameron pronounced the words that made us two the happiest
people in the world--stop--please--Win! We're right in town! And if we
hurry we can be there at the very same hour and minute we were there
last year."
The stage drew up at the door of the little wooden hotel. The driver
tossed his reins to the hostlers who were waiting with fresh horses,
threw off the mail pouch, and lowered the express box to the ground
where it was receipted for by the agent, who was also the post-master,
and the proprietor of the hotel.
Endicott approached that dignitary who, mail pouch in hand, was gazing
toward a little knot of men farther down the street: "I want to engage
two rooms and a bath," he explained.
The man favoured him with a glance of surprise. "Goin' to stop over?" he
queried.
"Yes, my wife and I shall be here over night."
"Married? What d'ye want of two rooms, then? Have 'em if you want 'em.
Cost you more--'tain't none of my business. Take them two front
ones--head of the stairs. Just give a hand an' we'll git yer trunk up,
an' quick as the old woman gits the worsh out you c'n have a tub of
water--that'll be four-bits extry, though--an' a dollar if I've got to
fill it up twict." As they descended the stairs the man's eyes sought
the group down the street: "Must be somethin's comin' off down to the
Red Front. The boys ain't missed a mail sence the day they strung up Red
Kelley, an' that's seven year ago, come August the fourth----"
"Fifth," corrected the stage driver who stood in the doorway.
"They brung Red in on the fourth, an' some of the boys hadn't got in
yet, an' they didn't git in till after dark, so they helt Red over----"
"That was the third----"
"'Twasn't neither! I'd ort to know--it was the day my off leader throw'd
his nigh fore shoe----"
Alice was manifesting impatience, and Endicott interrupted with a
question: "Is Mr. W. S. Colston here?"
"Colston? You mean Y Bar Colston? Yer right, Slim, it was the fifth,
'cause I got a tooth pulled that same day, bein' as the dentist had rode
over from Judith to see the hangin'. Why, no, Y Bar ain't here. He gits
his mail an' trades over to Claggett."
"He was to meet me here today."
"Well, today ain't over yet. If Y Bar said he'd be here, he'll be here.
Jest go in an' make yerselves to home. You can't count on that tub for
an hour er so yet, so if you want to worsh up, go right on through an'
you'll find the worsh dish on the bench beside the pump--an', if the
towel's crusty from the boy's worshin' up this noon, tell the old woman
I said to hang up a clean one."
"Hurry, Win!" cried the girl as she gave her face a final rub with the
clean towel. "We've got just time enough to get into our riding togs. We
both look like awful 'pilgrims' and besides, I want it to be just like
it was last year."
A quarter of an hour later they were receiving a cordial welcome from
the Reverend Cameron and his wife at the door of the little cottage
beside the church. "We were speaking of you today," said the minister's
wife "and wondering how your romance turned out."
"No need to ask," laughed her husband, as he followed them into the
little living room.
"You see," cried Alice, pointing to the clock, "we arrived at almost the
exact moment we did a year ago--" she started slightly as a volley of
shots sounded down the street. "Oh!" she cried. "They're shooting
someone!"
Cameron shook his head: "No," he smiled, "we've learned that it is the
single shots or one and then another, that mean trouble. When they come
in volleys that way it means that some cowboy is 'celebrating' down at
the Red Front. When there are cowboys in town and they are singing, or
racing their horses up and down the street, or shooting into the air or
the ceiling, we know they're all right. Of course, one could wish that
they wouldn't drink--but, if they must drink, by all means let's have
the noise with it. If cowboys are drinking and silent, trouble follows
as surely as night follows day."
"Maybe it's Mr. Colston," giggled Alice.
"Colston, of the Y Bar," smiled Cameron, "no I think we can eliminate
Colston. Do you know him?"
Endicott shook his head: "No, except through correspondence. I was to
meet him here today on business."
Cameron regarded him with sudden interest: "I heard in Lewiston, a
couple of weeks ago, that the Y Bar might change hands and, frankly I
will tell you that I was sorry to hear it."
"Why?" asked Endicott.
The minister frowned thoughtfully: "Well, Y Bar Colston has been a power
in this country, and if the wrong man were to step into his place there
might be no end of trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Sheep and cattle. The Y Bar outfit has been a sort of buffer between
the two factions. If a rabid cattleman stepped in it would immediately
mean war, and if a weakling were to take Colston's place the result
would be the same, because the sheep-men would immediately proceed to
take advantage of him and encroach on the cattle range, and then the
cowboys would take matters into their own hands and we'd have a
repetition of the Johnson County War--sheep slaughtered by the thousands
upon the range, dead cattle everywhere, herders murdered and their
bodies left in the ashes of their burned camp wagons, and cowboys shot
from ambush as they rode the range. I tell you, Mr. Endicott, I don't
envy the man that succeeds Colston as owner of the Y Bar."
Endicott smiled: "Thank you for the tip. It may, or may not interest you
to know that, if the business can be satisfactorily arranged, I myself,
am about to assume that unenviable position."
"And the best of luck to you," said Cameron, heartily, as he extended
his hand. "What one man has done another can do, but your job will be no
sinecure. But, come, we're not going to permit you to return to the
hotel for supper, because with cowboys in town the place will in all
probability be uncomfortably noisy although I will say for the boys that
Mrs. Endicott's presence would be a safeguard against any unseemly
talk."
Endicott's objections were met by the Camerons who pointed out that the
road by which Colston must enter Timber City ran right past the door and
in plain view of the porch where they were accustomed to eat the evening
meal.
Alice insisted upon helping Mrs. Cameron, and left to themselves
Endicott skilfully led the minister to talk of the country, its needs
and requirements, its advantages, its shortcomings, and its problems.
Cameron was a minister in every sense of the word, a man who loved his
work and who was beloved of the cattle country, and when, a couple of
hours later, the ladies summoned them to the table, Endicott took his
place with the realization that proprietorship of an outfit like the Y
Bar, carried with it responsibilities and obligations that had nothing
whatever to do with the marketing of beef on the hoof.