FIXING FIXERS
The widow and Carolyn June were alone at the house. Old Heck and Parker
went immediately from the breakfast table to the garage to get the car
out to go to Eagle Butte. The cowboys were at the barn preparing to
begin the day's work. Skinny had excused himself, ostensibly to attend
to some ranch chores, but in reality to get away to the bunk-house and
"fix up" for the day's courtship of Carolyn June. He planned, when the
cowboys were gone, to put on the white shirt Parker brought, yesterday,
from Eagle Butte.
"Ophelia," Carolyn June said mysteriously as they stepped out on the
front porch and filled their lungs with the clean air of the morning,
"you made a 'discovery' yesterday, I believe?" pausing questioningly.
"Yes," the widow smiled, recalling their conversation relative to
Parker's abrupt proposal of marriage.
"To-day," Carolyn June continued impressively, "it is my turn--I have
made one!"
"And it is?"
"You and I have been 'framed!'" was the answer spoken solemnly yet
scarcely louder than a whisper, while the brown eyes of Carolyn June
sparkled with a mixture of suppressed anger, merriment and indignation.
"Framed?" the widow repeated inquiringly, "just what does 'framed' mean,
my dear?"
"Framed means," Carolyn June replied wisely, "'tricked,' 'jobbed,'
'jinxed,' 'fixed,' or whatever it is people do to people when they
scheme to do something to them without the ones to whom they are doing
it knowing how it is done!"
"Exceedingly lucid, my love," the widow laughed, "but you are so
agonizingly fond of suspense--"
"Come inside," Carolyn June said as she led the way into the house, "and
in a dark corner--no, that would be too near to the walls and their
proverbial 'ears,' in the center of the room is better--I will expose
the whole diabolical plot!"
At the end of the reading table they stopped and faced each other.
"And now?" Ophelia said, expectantly.
"And now," Carolyn June repeated, her voice low and carefully guarded.
"Listen: Before Ophelia Cobb and Carolyn June Dixon ever arrived at this
Quarter Circle KT their 'lovers' were already picked out for
them--officially chosen, delegated, appointed, foreordained and
everything! The 'arrangements' had all been made--"
"I don't understand," the widow said, bewildered by the rapid flow of
legal-sounding words.
"Nor did I at first," Carolyn June went on, "but I have figured it all
out! I have 'discovered' what all this mysterious hinting about
'arrangements,' 'the agreement,' 'Old Heck's day,' 'Parker's time,'
'Skinny's job,' and so forth means! I have studied it out. Why is Skinny
Rawlins thrown into my lap as my 'regular' lover? It's his 'job'--that
is why! And why the day-and-day-about courting of yourself by Uncle
Josiah and Parker? It is the 'agreement'--the one is to have you one day
and the other the next! Before we came some such arrangement was fixed
up. I am sure of it--"
"Impossible," Ophelia protested, "preposterous!"
"Outrageous!" Carolyn June added vehemently, "but truth just the same!
To start with they didn't want us to come. That telegram lying about
them all having the smallpox proved as much. We were, for some reason or
other, considered 'afflictions,' Why, I don't know. I guess they thought
we were a pair of female vampires or something and had to be disposed of
in advance to prevent our stirring things up and causing a lot of
murders or suicides or duels on the Quarter Circle KT!"
"I can't believe it," Ophelia muttered as if stunned. "Why, that would
be 'dealing' with us just as though we were cattle!"
"That's it!" Carolyn June exclaimed vindictively, her anger for the
moment getting the better of her sense of the ridiculous, "they 'dealt'
in us! More than likely they played poker to decide how to divide us
up--to see who should love you and which should love me! As if the heart
of a woman can be made to run in a groove cut to order by the hand of
any masculine--insect!" she finished, thoughtless of the incongruous
metaphor.
"Then Skinny and your Uncle Josiah," the widow murmured, "and
Parker--are--are--pretending?"
"No," Carolyn June answered, "they started out 'pretending,' but they've
stepped into their own trap! They are painfully serious now--they are
'intending!'"
"What shall we do about it?" Ophelia asked helplessly.
"We ought to assassinate them!" Carolyn June snapped, then laughed as
the absurdity of the situation dawned upon her and her sense of humor
overcame the moment of anger and indignation. "I have it--I've got it!
We will Vamp' them in dead earnest! We'll fix the 'fixers,' we'll frame
the 'framers'!"
"But how?" doubtfully.
"From now on," Carolyn June replied decisively, "I am going to flirt,
individually and collectively--desperately and wickedly--with the whole
male population of this ranch! We'll show them what premeditated
love-making really is! When it comes to Uncle Josiah and, well, possibly
Parker, you will have to take care of that giddy pair yourself and,
incidentally, you might work some on Charley Saunders," mentioning the
oldest of the cowboys. "I'll just flicker an eyelid occasionally at
Parker, unless you object?"
"Not in the least," Ophelia answered, blushing a trifle.
"Well, then, we will make it a free-for-all," Carolyn June said, "and--"
"How about the Ramblin' Kid?" the widow interrupted, "do you think he is
one of the conspirators--is in on the--the--'frame-up?' Is he also to be
a 'Victim'?"
Carolyn June colored the least bit, paused a moment before she replied,
then said rather stiffly:
"He--yes, he is probably having more fun watching us being 'officially'
made love to than any other one of the entire bunch. The Ramblin' Kid
will have to take his medicine along with the rest! Every man-thing on
the Quarter Circle KT--eliminating Sing Pete from that classification
--is my meat!"
"When does the slaughter begin?" Ophelia laughed.
"Right now!" Carolyn June answered. "War is declared--"
She stopped suddenly as a step sounded on the porch and a moment later
Skinny entered the room. He was painfully "dressed up." The instant Old
Heck and Parker, in the Clagstone "Six," started for Eagle Butte and the
cowboys disappeared down the lane in the direction of the big pasture,
Skinny struggled into the white shirt. He planned to try its effect on
Carolyn June while the others were away. If it did not produce results
he would slip back to the bunk-house before they returned and change
again to his normal dress.
When Skinny stepped into the room he was fully conscious of his unusual
appearance. The morning was warm and he had not put on a coat. The shirt
billowed over his shoulders, arms and chest in a snowy cloud. It seemed
impossible to Skinny that anything in all the world could be so vividly,
persistently white as the cloth that literally enveloped the upper half
of his body. It actually gleamed. The sleeves of the shirt were too
long. A pair of sky-blue, rosette-fastened, satin ribbon sleeve-holders
above his elbows kept the cuffs from slipping over his hands. Parker had
been unable to get the purple necktie and had brought, instead, one that
was a solid Shamrock green. Skinny swore when he saw the tie, but
decided to wear it anyhow. Parker had explained by saying he had
forgotten the errand until he was starting from town and then stepped
into Old Leon's--a cheap general store in Eagle Butte--and purchased the
outfit from the Jew. That accounted also for the surplus length of
sleeve--the shirt was a size and a half larger than Skinny had ordered
and for which Parker declared positively he had asked. Eternal hatred
for all Hebrews was born in Skinny's heart the moment he saw the layout.
But, well, it was there; he was anxious to see if a white shirt would
have any effect, and he would wear it anyway.
Skinny knew instantly that he made an impression on Carolyn June.
She looked at him once and was speechless!
"By gosh," he said to himself, "Chuck was right! It sure does beat hell
how clothes affect a woman!"
Carolyn June, unquestionably, was overcome. The surprise had been too
much for her. He had knocked her cold! The shirt had done the work! She
bit nervously at the nail of her thumb, pressed desperately against her
teeth. Her whole body trembled. Her face flamed scarlet. Skinny saw her
agitation and resolved at that moment that he would never again be
without a white shirt!
Ophelia also was visibly affected. The widow gave one look at Skinny,
glanced quickly at Carolyn June, then, with her hands clasped tightly
against her breast, she leaned weakly against the table and chewed at
her underlip. She started to speak and stopped.
"Well, I--I--got back!" Skinny said, breaking the spell while he grinned
somewhat sheepishly and yet with an air of complete satisfaction.
"I--I--see you--did!" Carolyn June choked hysterically.
"I was gone longer than I aimed to be," Skinny continued, rapidly
gaining confidence as he saw the confusion of the women; "after I got
the chores done I concluded to fix up a little. This is the first time I
ever wore this shirt," he went on, feeling that a bit of explanation was
entirely proper and would probably help in restoring the composure of
Carolyn June and the widow. "Parker just brought it out yesterday and it
was a good deal of trouble to make the collar work right. It seemed like
it was pretty stiff or something. Generally speaking the whole outfit's
bigger than it really ought to be, but maybe it'll shrink up some when
it's washed," he finished in a casual matter-of-fact way.
"It--it--is wonderful!" Carolyn June stammered, "it is--I don't think I
ever saw one that was--was--whiter--"
"It looked that way to me," Skinny interrupted as if glad some one else
had noticed a peculiarity of the garment that already had troubled him
somewhat, "I thought it was uncommonly white!"
"Perhaps it just seems that way because we are not used to it," Ophelia
suggested sympathetically.
"That's it!" Carolyn June exclaimed feverishly, "it is because we are
not used to it--it will be perfectly all right when we have looked at it
a little more!"
Skinny decided he would risk the gauntlet of comment from Parker, Old
Heck and the cowboys and wear the shirt the rest of the day.
Carolyn June was really sorry for Skinny, but--she needed air--she felt
she must have it.
"Please," she cried suddenly and with, an effort, "excuse me! I--I--have
something I wish to do! You," speaking to Skinny, "and Ophelia stay here
and visit each other a while!"
Without waiting for an answer she stepped quickly into the kitchen,
asked Sing Pete for a handful of sugar and hurried out to the circular
corral.
"Oh, Skinny, Skinny, you are so funny," she laughed aloud as she went
through the back-yard gate. "It breaks my heart to break your heart--but
you are one of the 'fixers' and you've got to be 'fixed.'"
The Gold Dust maverick at first was shy when Carolyn June opened the
gate and entered the corral. After a few moments she recognized the girl
and was soon eating the sugar from the hand of Carolyn June. Before the
supply was exhausted the friendship and confidence of the two, begun
yesterday, was firmly reestablished. The maverick allowed Carolyn June
to swing her weight from the glossy withers, to clasp her arms tightly
about the trim, clean-built neck, and when, after an hour, the girl
started toward the house, the outlaw mare protested so eagerly against
being left alone that she turned back to the corral and leaning against
the fence stroked the soft muzzle thrust between the bars.
Carolyn June was cooing endearing terms to the filly and playing with
the quivering underlip when she heard a horse galloping swiftly up the
lane and past the barn. Instinctively she stepped back and turned just
as the Ramblin' Kid, riding Captain Jack, wheeled around the end of the
shed near the corral.
His sudden appearance surprised her. She had thought he was with the
cowboys over at the upland pasture helping skin the steers killed by the
lightning.
When they left the ranch the Ramblin' Kid had ridden away with Charley
and the others, but not with any intention of going to the big pasture.
Where the road turned toward the lower ford he held Captain Jack to the
left.
"Ain't you going with us," Charley Saunders asked, "and help skin them
steers?"
"No," the Ramblin' Kid replied quietly. "I ain't. I've got something
else to do. Anyhow, I ain't a butcher--I work with live cattle, not dead
ones!" he concluded as Captain Jack continued in the direction of the
upper crossing.
"He's the independentest darn' cuss I ever saw!" Charley remarked to his
companions as the Ramblin' Kid disappeared. "It's a wonder Old Heck
don't fire him."
"He can't," Bert laughed. "Th' Ramblin' Kid don't stay at the Quarter
Circle KT by the grace of Old Heck, but by the choice of th' Ramblin'
Kid! Anyhow, he's too good with horses--" His voice trailed away to a
low mutter as they turned in among the willows and cottonwood trees
along the bank of the Cimarron.
At the upper crossing on almost the same spot where he had lifted
Carolyn June from the quicksand to the solid ground of the meadow land,
the Ramblin' Kid stopped Captain Jack. He looked out over the placid,
unbroken surface of the sand-bar and saw the end of the broken rope
coiled loosely where Old Blue had been drawn under. A few yards away the
white felt hat Carolyn June had tossed to one side, to be a mute and
pathetic messenger of her fate, when she thought death was certain,
still rested on the smooth surface of the sand. It was to get the hat
the Ramblin' Kid had come again to the scene of yesterday's tragedy. He
had seen it lying there when Carolyn June and he rode away on Captain
Jack and thought then of trying to get it, but the part of the broken
rope attached to his saddle was too short to reach it and it was
impossible to secure it in any other way. Chuck had returned the
Ramblin' Kid's rope to him yesterday when they were after the runaway
steers and it was now on his saddle. He lightly tossed the noose so that
it fell circling the object he sought. Gently flicking the rope toward
him he tightened the loop about the crown of the hat and drew it to the
edge of the quicksand. He picked up the hat, looked curiously at it,
remounted Captain Jack, paused a moment and gazed at the treacherous
surface beneath which the body of Old Blue was hidden and with a
savagely muttered something about "th' damned stuff!" whirled the little
stallion and rode rapidly in the direction from which he came.
As Captain Jack galloped along the lane the Ramblin' Kid looked at the
hat curiously, turning it first one way and then the other. With a
laugh he reached into his pocket and drew out the pink satin garter. An
expression of tenderness, followed by a look of deep humility that
quickly changed into savage anger, came into his eyes as he looked first
at the hat, soiled and dirty, and then at the dainty bit of elastic he
held in his hand.
"A swell pair of souvenirs," he said bitterly, "for an 'ign'rant,
savage, stupid brute' of a cow-puncher to be packin' around!"
Before reaching the barn the Ramblin' Kid dropped the garter again into
his pocket. Rounding the end of the shed he rode Captain Jack directly
up to Carolyn June. Dismounting, he left the little roan standing, not
troubling to drop the reins over the broncho's head, stepped toward the
girl and extended the hat, saying simply and without emotion.
"Here's your hat!"
There was no embarrassment now or humility in his eyes as he looked
steadily at Carolyn June. His expression was as cold as if the one to
whom he spoke was an utter stranger.
"I--" Carolyn June hesitated, "oh, I thank you! It was kind of you to
think about it and ride back--back--there," she involuntarily
shuddered when she thought of the upper crossing, "and get it!"
The simple, unexpected thoughtfulness of the deed touched her. It was
the natural, instinctive act of a gentleman. She had forgotten the hat.
He had not. As she looked at him she felt that, someway, she might have
known such a thing was exactly what he would do.
"You're welcome," he said quietly, starting to turn away.
A spirit of mischief suddenly flared up in her heart. She thought of the
pink elastic she had lost and which she believed he was carrying now in
his pocket.
"Is the hat all--didn't you--" she intended to say "find something
else?" but quickly stopped. The Ramblin' Kid paused and turned again
toward Carolyn June. She hesitated in confusion. It had flashed to her
mind that if he had the garter he would not lie about it. He would say
as much and offer to return it to her. Someway, she did not wish
that--she wanted him to keep it, but she did not want him to know that
she wanted her garter to be carried by him!
His black eyes looked keenly at her, as if they would force from her
lips the thing she evidently dared not say.
"I--I was just getting acquainted with the Gold Dust maverick!" Carolyn
June finished lamely with a nervous laugh.
"You want to be careful," the Ramblin' Kid said with the slightest curl
of his lips at her obvious shifting of meanings, "she ain't exactly a
'lady's animal' yet. She'll fight. Skinny started to go in th' corral
this morning an' had to back up. Th' maverick went at him to kill.
She's goin' to be a 'one-man' horse th' same as Captain Jack."
"Perhaps it was because she was afraid of him," Carolyn June suggested.
"Maybe it was because Skinny was afraid of her," the Ramblin' Kid
chuckled.
"Aren't you going to ride the filly in that race at Eagle Butte?" she
asked suddenly with a hint of coquetry in her eyes and voice.
"Why?" he shot back at her, observing the changed inflection and look.
"I--I--would like you to," Carolyn June murmured demurely as she
followed up the feminine method of mastering a man, "it would be fun to
see her run!"
"Is that all?" the Ramblin' Kid asked gently and with a peculiar
emphasis.
"Isn't that enough?" the girl countered in a tone bordering close to the
tender.
The answer was slow in coming.
"Th' Gold Dust maverick will be in th' sweepstakes," the Ramblin' Kid
finally said, a note of contempt in his voice. "I'll ride her"--as he
jerked the saddle from Captain Jack, turned the stallion into the
corral, then started toward the bunk-house, while Carolyn June moved
away in the direction of the back-yard gate--"I'll ride her," he
repeated, emphasizing strongly the last ten words, "_to beat that
Thunderbolt horse from over on th' Vermejo_".