THE SEAR AND YELLOW DAYS
"This here town,"--read a letter that Hollis received from Weary late in
September--"aint fit for no man to live in which thinks anythink of
hisself, in the first place theres two many folks here which dont seem
to know what to do with themselves they just keep millin around an actin
like they was ready to stampead any time. In the 2nd place im runnin shy
of dust an id admire for to receave about a months pay which i wont
charge two you bein as ive already spent more then i ought two its a
good thing i got a return ticket or id be in a hell of a fix when i got
ready to come back last nite the doctor at the hospittle said hed
operate on ed today which hes already done this mornin an eds restin
easy though the doc dont know whether hes goin to git well or not but
hes hopin an ile let you know by telegraph if he gits any worse which is
all for this time.
P. S. say boss dont forgit to hustel that coin ile shure make it right
with you i forgot to tell you that i got cleaned out by a card sharper
here i would have tore him apart but about a million sheriffs piled onto
me an i dident have no chancst what in hell does any town need with so
many sheriffs.
"Weary.
"P. S. id like to be home for the round-up but reckon i wont make it.
"Weary."
Nellie Hazelton did not see this letter, though Hollis told her that Ed
had been operated on and that he was doing as well as could be expected.
And the telegraph that night flashed Weary's "coin" to him.
The days passed all too quickly now, for the time for the fall round-up
was at hand and Hollis realized with regret that his daily rides--with
Nellie Hazelton as a companion--must soon be discontinued.
The nights had already grown cool; snow had appeared on the mountain
peaks; the basin was no longer a great green bowl, but resembled a
mammoth, concave palette upon which nature had mixed her colors--yellow
and gold and brown, with here and there a blotch of red and purple, a
dash of green,--lingering over the season--and great, wide stretches of
gray. The barren spots seemed to grow more barren--mocked by the scarlet
blossoms of the cactus that seemed to be everlasting, and the fringing,
yellow soap weed, hardy, defying the advancing winter. Razor-Back ridge
was a desolate place. Never attractive, it reared aloft barren and
somber, frowning down upon its fringe of shrubbery the latter stripped
of its leaves, its scant beauty gone and bending its bare branches
stubbornly to the early winds.
With the last day of the month came a rain--a cold, bitter, driving
storm that raged for three days and started a drift that the cattlemen
could not stop. Arrayed in tarpaulins the cowboys went forth, suffering,
cursing, laboring heroically to stem the tide. The cattle retreated
steadily before the storm--no human agency could halt them. On the
second day Norton came into the Circle Bar ranchhouse, wet, disgusted,
but fighting mad.
"If this damn rain don't stop pretty soon," he told Hollis as he dried
himself before the open fireplace, "we'll have cattle down here from
over the Colorado line. An' then there'll be hell to pay!"
But on the third day the rain ceased and the sun came out. The country
lay smiling in the sunshine, mellow, glistening, inviting. But the
damage had been wrought. From Lemuel Train of the Pig Pen outfit, came
word that fifty per cent of his cattle were missing. Truxton of the
Diamond Dot, Henningson of the Three Bar, and nearly all of the other
small owners, reported losses. Of course the cattle would be recovered
during the fall round up, but they were now scattered and fair prey for
cattle thieves, and with the round up still two weeks away it seemed
that many must be stolen.
Yet there was nothing that could be done; it is folly to attempt to "cut
out" cattle on the open range.
From the editorial columns of the _Kicker_ might be gleaned the
fact that the Law had come into Union County. Many men of Dry Bottom
entered the _Kicker_ office to thank Hollis; others boldly draped
their houses with flags and bunting.
Dunlavey had visited Dry Bottom twice since the incident of the primary.
He had said nothing concerning the incident to anyone save possibly his
intimates, but from the sneer that appeared on his face when approached
by those whom he considered friendly to Hollis it was plain that he
intended continuing the fight.
Hollis had been compelled to record in the _Kicker_ the unpleasant
news that Dunlavey had refused to comply with the new law regulating
brands and the submitting of lists for taxation, and also that he had
threatened to shoot the first officer trespassed on his land. Dunlavey
had not complied with the law, but he had failed to carry out his threat
to "shoot the first officer that trespassed on his land," for Allen had
trespassed several times, openly and boldly. Moreover, Dunlavey had seen
him, had even spoken to him, but had offered no violence.
Perhaps in a calmer mood Dunlavey had decided not to use his weapon;
perhaps there was something about the quiet, cool, and deliberate Allen
which convinced Dunlavey that the former might be able to give a good
account of himself in the event of trouble. At any rate several times
Allen had ridden the Circle Cross range unmolested by either Dunlavey or
his men. He explored the farthest limits of the Circle Cross property,
tallying the cattle, nosing around the corrals, examining brands, and
doing sundry other things not calculated to allay Dunlavey's anger over
this new and odd condition of affairs.
Then one day he failed to visit the Circle Cross. Instead, he appeared
to Potter in the office of the _Kicker_ with copy for a poster
announcing the sale by auction of a thousand of Dunlavey's best cattle.
He ordered Potter to print it so that he might post copies throughout
the county within a week. The night following the issue of the
_Kicker_ containing the announcement concerning the coming of the
law Potter had informed Hollis that he had that day delivered the
notices to Allen.