HOBBLE BURNS AND SLEEPERS
The western part of the Bar-20 ranch was poor range and but few cattle
were to be found on it until Big Coulee had been reached. This portion
of the ranch fed quite a large number of cattle, many of which were
outlaws, but because of the heavy work demanded on the more fertile
southern and eastern sections it was the custom with Buck to pay
little attention to the Big Coulee herds; if a man rode up there once
in a while he was satisfied. This time it was Skinny who was to look
over the condition of affairs around Number Two, which was not far
from Big Coulee.
Detouring here and there he took his own time and followed the general
direction of the western line, and about four hours after he had
quitted the Peak he passed line house Number Two and shortly afterward
stopped on the rim of the coulee, a brush-grown depression of a score
of acres in extent, in which was a pond covering half an acre and fed
by springs on the bottom, its outlet being a deep gorge cut in the
soft stone. Half a mile from the pond the small stream disappeared in
the sand and was lost.
He rode through the coulee without seeing a single cow and an
exploration lasting over an hour resulted no better. Beyond a bear
track or two among the berry bushes he saw no signs of animal life.
This did not disturb him because he took it for granted that the herds
had wandered back to where the grass was better. Stopping at the line
house to eat, he mounted and rode towards the hills to report to
Hopalong.
Suddenly it struck him that he had seen no cow tracks in the mud
around the water hole and he began to hunt for cattle. Using Pete's
glasses constantly to sweep the plain for the missing herds, it was
not until he had reached a point half-way to the Peak that his search
was rewarded by seeing a calf far to the east of him. Watching it
until it stood out boldly to his sight he followed an impulse and rode
towards it to examine it at close range.
Upon getting near it he saw that it bore the V notch of the H2 cut in
its ear, and that it was not branded. He thought it strange that an H2
"sleeper" should be so far from home, without a mother to lead it
astray, and he roped it to look more closely at the notch. His opinion
was that it had been done very recently, for the cartilage had not yet
dried on the edges. Releasing the animal he mounted and started for
the line, muttering to himself.
As he swung into the line trail he saw a lame cow limping around a
thicket and he spurred forward, roped and threw it, this time giving
no thought to the ears, for its brand was that of the Bar-20. He
looked at the hocks and found them swollen and inflamed, and his
experience told him that it had been done by hobbles. This, to him,
explained why the calf was alone, and it gave him the choice of two
explanations for the hobbling and the newly cut ear notch on the calf.
Either the H2 was sleepering Bar-20 calves for their irons later on,
or rustlers were at work. It seemed incredible that any H2 puncher
should come that distance to make a few sleepers--but the herd had not
been to the water hole! He was greatly wrought up and it was none the
more pleasant to be unable to say where the blame lay. There was only
one thing to do and that was to scout around and try to find a clue to
the perpetrators--and, perhaps, catch the thieves at work. This proved
to be unfruitful until he came to North Hill, where he found a cow
dead from gunshot. He put spurs to his horse and rode straight for the
Peak, which he reached as night fell and as Hopalong, Red, Pete, and
Lanky were eating supper and debating the line conditions.
Skinny joined them and listened to the conversation, wordless, nodding
or shaking his head at the points made. When he had finished eating he
leaned back against his saddle and fumbled for tobacco and pipe,
gazing reflectively into the fire, at which he spat. Hopalong turned
in time to see the act and, knowing Skinny's peculiarities, asked
abruptly: "What's on yore mind, Skinny?"
"Little piece of h--l," was the slow reply, and it gained the
attention of the others at once. "I saw a H2 sleeper, up just above
th' Bend and half way between it an' th' line."
"That so!" exclaimed Hopalong.
"Long way from home--starting in young to ramble," Red laughed. "Lazy
trick, that sleepering."
"This here calf had a brand new V--hadn't healed yet," Skinny
remarked, lighting his pipe. "An' it didn't--_puff_--have
no--_puff_--mother," he added, significantly.
"Huh, weaned, you chump--but that fresh V is shore funny."
"Go on, Skinny," ordered Hopalong, eagerly.
"I found its mother an hour later--hobble-burned an' limping; an' it
wasn't no H2 cow, neither; it was one of ourn."
"Rustling!" cried Hopalong.
"Th' H2 is doing it," contradicted Red, quickly.
"They wouldn't take a chance like that," replied Hopalong.
"There ain't no rule for taking chances," Red rejoined. "Some men'll
gamble with h--l itself--you, for instance, in gun-play."
"What else?" demanded Hopalong of Skinny.
"That Big Coulee herd ain't up there, an' hain't been near th' water
hole for so long th' mud's smooth around the edges of th' pond; kin
savvy?"
"It's rustlers, by G-d!" cried Hopalong, looking triumphantly at Red.
"An' I found a dead cow--shot--on th' upper end of North Hill," Skinny
added.
"H2!" Red shouted. "They're doing it!"
"Yes, likely; it was an H2 cow," Skinny placidly explained.
"Why in h--l can't you tell things in a herd, 'stead of stringin' 'em
out like a stiff reata trailing to soften!" Red cried. "Yo're the
damndest talker that ever opened a mouth!"
Skinny took the pipe from his mouth and looked at Red.
"I allus get it all out, don't I? What are you kicking about?"
"Yes, you do; like a five thousand herd filtering through a two-foot
gate!"
"Mebby th' herd drifted to th' valley," Pete offered.
"Mebby nothing!" Red retorted. "Why, we can't drive 'em down here
without 'em acting loco about it."
"Cows are shore fool animals," Pete suggested in defence.
"There's more than cows that are fool animals," Red snapped, while
Skinny laughed to see Pete get his share.
* * * * *
Sixteen miles to the southeast of the Peak, Meeker sat on a soap box
and listened, with the rest of his outfit, to what Curley was
saying,--"an' when I got down a good ways south I found two young
calves bellering for their maws. They was sleepers; an' an hour later
I found them same maws bellering for them calves--they was limping
a-plenty an' their hocks looked burned--hobble burns."
Meeker mused for a moment and then arose. "You ride that range
regular, an' be cautious. Watch towards Eagle. If you catch any
sons-of-skunks gamboling reckless, an' they can't explain why they are
flitting over our range, shoot off yore gun accidental--there won't be
no inquest."