CHAPTER XIV.
_A Winter at the Double-Crank_.
There are times when, although the months as they pass seem full,nothing that has occurred serves to mark a step forward or back in thedestiny of man. After a year, those months of petty detail might bewiped out entirely without changing the general trend of events--andsuch a time was the winter that saw "Dill and Bill," as onealliterative mind called them, in possession of the Double-Crank. Theaffairs of the ranch moved smoothly along toward a more systematicrunning than had been employed under Brown's ownership. Dill settledmore and more into the new life, so that he was so longer looked uponas a foreign element; he could discuss practical ranch business and besure of his ground--and it was then that Billy realized more fully howshrewd a brain lay behind those mild, melancholy blue eyes, and howmuch a part of the man was that integrity which could not stoop tosmall meanness or deceit. It would have been satisfying merely to knowthat such a man lived, and if Billy had needed any one to pointthe way to square living he must certainly have been better for thecompanionship of Dill.
As to Miss Bridger, he stood upon much the same footing with her as hehad in the fall, except that he called her Flora, in the familiaritywhich comes of daily association; to his secret discomfort she hadfulfilled her own prophecy and called him Billy Boy. Though he likedthe familiarity, he emphatically did not like the mental attitudewhich permitted her to fall so easily into the habit of calling himthat. Also, he was in two minds about the way she would come to thedoor of the living room and say: "Come, Billy Boy, and dry the dishesfor me--that's a good kid!"
Billy had no objections to drying the dishes; of a truth, althoughthat had been a duty which he shirked systematically in line-campsuntil everything in the cabin was in that state which compels action,he would have been willing to stand beside Flora Bridger at the sinkand wipe dishes (and watch her bare, white arms, with the dimplyelbows) from dark until dawn. What he did object to was thehalf-patronizing, wholly matter-of-fact tone of her, which seemed topreclude any possibility of sentiment so far as she was concerned.She always looked at him so frankly, with never a tinge of red in hercheeks to betray that consciousness of sex which goes ever--say whatyou like--with the love of a man and a maid.
He did not want her to call him "Billy Boy" in just that tone; it madehim feel small and ineffective and young--he who was eight or nineyears older than she! It put him down, so that he could not bringhimself to making actual love to her--and once or twice when he hadtried it, she took it as a great joke.
Still, it was good to have her there and to be friends. The absence ofthe Pilgrim, who had gone East quite suddenly soon after the round-upwas over, and the generosity of the other fellows, who saw quiteplainly how it was--with Billy, at least--and forbore making anyadvances on their own account, made the winter pass easily and leftCharming Billy in the spring not content, perhaps, but hopeful.
It was in the warm days of late April--the days which bring the birdsand the tender, young grass, when the air is soft and all outdoorsbeckons one to come out and revel. On such a day Billy, stirred to anindefinable elation because the world as he saw it then was altogethergood, crooned his pet song while he waited at the porch with Flora'shorse and his own. They were going to ride together because it wasSunday and because, if the weather held to its past and present moodof sweet serenity, he might feel impelled to start the wagons outbefore the week was done; so that this might be their last Sunday ridefor nobody knew how long.
"Let's ride up the creek," she suggested when she was in the saddle."We haven't been up that way this spring. There's a trail, isn'tthere?"
"Sure, there's a trail--but I don't know what shape it's in. I haven'tbeen over it myself for a month or so. We'll try it, but yuh won'tfind much to see; it's all level creek-bottom for miles and kindamonotonous to look at."
"Well, we'll go, anyway," she decided, and they turned their horses'heads toward the west.
They had gone perhaps five or six miles and were thinking of turningback, when Billy found cause to revise his statement that there wasnothing to see. There had been nothing when he rode this way before,but now, when they turned to follow a bend in the creek and in thetrail, they came upon a camp which looked more permanent than wasusual in that country. A few men were lounging around in the sun, andthere were scrapers of the wheeled variety, and wagons, and plows, anddivers other implements of toil that were strange to the place. Alsothere was a long, reddish-yellow ridge branching out from the creek;Billy knew it for a ditch--but a ditch larger than he had seen formany a day. He did not say anything, even when Flora exclaimed overthe surprise of finding a camp there, but headed straight for thecamp.
When they came within speaking distance, a man showed in the openingof one of the tents, looked at them a moment, and came forward.
"Why, that's Fred Walland!" cried Flora, and then caught herselfsuddenly. "I didn't know he was back," she added, in a tone much lesseager.
Billy gave her a quick look that might have told her much had she seenit. He did not much like the color which had flared into her cheeksat sight of the Pilgrim, and he liked still less the tone in whichshe spoke his name. It was not much, and he had the sense to push thelittle devil of jealousy out of sight behind him, but it had come andchanged something in the heart of Billy.
"Why, hello!" greeted the Pilgrim, and Billy remembered keenly thatthe Pilgrim had spoken in just that way when he had opened the door ofthe line-camp upon them, that night. "I was going to ride over to theranch, after a while. How are yuh, anyhow?" He came and held up hishand to Flora, and she put her own into it. Billy, with eyebrowspinched close, thought that they sure took their own time aboutletting go again, and that the smile which she gave the Pilgrim wasquite superfluous to the occasion.
"Yuh seem to be some busy over here," he remarked carelessly, turninghis eyes to the new ditch.
"Well, yes. Brown's having a ditch put in here. We only started a fewdays ago; them da--them no-account Swedes he got to do the rough workare so slow, we're liable to be at it all summer. How's everybody atthe ranch? How's your mother, Miss Bridger? Has she got any mince piesbaked?"
"I don't know--you might ride over with us and see," she invited,smiling at him again. "We were just going to turn back--weren't we,Billy Boy?"
"Sure!" he testified, and for the first time found some comfortin being called Billy Boy; because, if looks went for anything, itcertainly made the Pilgrim very uncomfortable. The spirits of Billyrose a little.
"If you'll wait till I saddle up, I'll go along. I guess the Svenskieswon't run off with the camp before I get back," said the Pilgrim,and so they stayed, and afterward rode back together quite amiablyconsidering certain explosive elements in the party.
Perhaps Billy's mildness was due in a great measure to hispreoccupation, which made him deaf at times to what the others weresaying. He knew that they were quite impersonal in their talk, and sohe drifted into certain other channels of thought.
Was Brown going to start another cow-outfit, or was he merely going totry his hand at farming? Billy knew that--unless he had sold it--Brownowned a few hundred acres along the creek there; and as he rode overit now he observed the soil more closely than was his habit, and sawthat, from a passing survey, it seemed fertile and free from eitheradobe or alkali. It must be that Brown was going to try ranching.Still, he had held out all his best stock, and Billy had not heardthat he had sold it since. Now that he thought of it, he had not heardmuch about Brown since Dill bought the Double-Crank. Brown had beenaway, and, though he had known in a general way that the Pilgrimwas still in his employ, he did not know in what capacity. In theabsorption of his own affairs he had not given the matter any thought,though he had wondered at first what crazy impulse caused Brown tosell the Double-Crank. Even now he did not know, and when he thoughtof it the thing irritated him like a puzzle before it is solved.
So greatly did the matter trouble him that immediately upon reachingthe ranch he left Flora and the Pilgrim and hun
ted up Dill. He foundhim hunched like a half-open jackknife in a cane rocker, with his legscrossed and one long, lean foot dangling loosely before him; he wasreading "The Essays of Elia," and the melancholy of his face gaveBilly the erroneous impression that the book was extremely sad, andcaused him to dislike it without ever looking inside the dingy bluecovers.
"Say, Dilly, old Brown's putting in a ditch big enough to carry thewhole Missouri River. Did yuh know it?"
Dill carefully creased down the corner of the page where he wasreading, untangled his legs and pulled himself up a bit in the chair."Why, no, I don't think I have heard of it," he admitted. "If I haveit must have slipped my mind--which isn't likely." Dill was ratherproud of his capacity for keeping a mental grasp on things.
"Well, he's got a bunch uh men camped up the creek and the Pilgrim toclose-herd 'em--and I'm busy wondering what he's going to do with thatditch. Brown don't do things just to amuse himself; yuh can gamble heaims to make that ditch pack dollars into his jeans--and if yuh cantell me _how_, I'll be a whole lot obliged." Dill shook his head, andBilly went on. "Did yuh happen to find out, when yuh was bargainingfor the Double-Crank, how much land Brown's got held out?"
"No-o--I can't say I did. From certain remarks he made, I was underthe impression that he owns quite a tract. I asked about getting allthe land he had, and he said he preferred not to put a price on it,but that it would add considerably to the sum total. He said I wouldnot need it, anyhow, as there is plenty of open range for the stock.He was holding it, he told me, for speculation and had never made anyuse of it in running his stock, except as they grazed upon it."
"Uh-huh. That don't sound to me like any forty-acre field; does it toyou?"
"As I said," responded Dill, "I arrived at the conclusion that he ownsa good deal of land."
"And I'll bet yuh the old skunk is going to start up a cow-outfitright under our noses--though why the dickens the Double-Crank wasn'tgood enough for him gets me."
"If he does," Dill observed calmly, "the man has a perfect right todo so, William. We must guard against that greed which would crowdout every one but ourselves--like pigs around a trough of sour milk! Iwill own, however--"
"Say, Dilly! On the dead, are yuh religious?"
"No, William, I am not, in the sense you mean. I hope, however, that Iam honest. If Mr. Brown intends to raise cattle again I shall be gladto see him succeed."
Charming Billy sat down suddenly, as though his legs would no longersupport him, and looked queerly at Dill. "Hell!" he said meditatively,and sought with his fingers for his smoking material.
Dill showed symptoms of going back to "The Essays of Elia," so thatBilly was stirred to speech.
"Now, looky here, Dilly. You're all right, as far as yuh go--but thisrange is carrying just about all the stock it needs right at present.I don't reckon yuh realize that all the good bottoms and big couleesare getting filled up with nesters; one here and one there, and everyyear a few more. It ain't much, uh course, but every man that comesis cutting down the range just that much. And I know one thing: whenBrown had this outfit himself he was mighty jealous uh the range, andhe didn't take none to the idea of anybody else shoving stock onto itmore than naturally drifted on in the course uh the season. If he'sgoing to start another cow-outfit, I'll bet yuh he's going to gobbleland--and that's what _we_ better do, and do it sudden."
"Since I have never had much personal experience in the 'gobbling'line, I'm afraid you'll have to explain," said Dill dryly.
"I mean leasing. We got to beat Brown to it. We got to start in andlease up all the land we can get our claws on. I ain't none desirableuh trying to make yuh a millionaire, Dilly, whilst we've only gotone lone section uh land and about twelve thousand head uh stock, andsomebody else aiming to throw a big lot uh cattle onto our range. Ikinda shy at any contract the size uh that one. I've got to start thewagons out, if this weather holds good, and I want to go with 'em--fora while, anyhow--and see how things stack up on the range. And what_you've_ got to do is to go and lease every foot uh land you can. Eh?State land. All the land around here almost is State land--all that'ssurveyed and that ain't held by private owners. And State land can beleased for a term uh years.
"The way they do it, yuh start in and go over the map all samee flea;yuh lease a section here and there and skip one and take the next,and so on, and then if yuh need to yuh throw a fence around the wholeblame chunk--and there yuh are. No, it _ain't_ cheating, because ifanybody don't like it real bad, they can raise the long howl and makeyuh revise your fencing; but in this neck uh the woods folks don'thowl over a little thing like that, because you could lift up yourown voice over something they've done, and there'd be a fine, prettychorus! So that's what yuh can do if yuh want to--but anyway, yuh wantto get right after that leasing. It'll cost yuh something, but we'rejust plumb obliged to protect ourselves. See?"
At that point he heard Flora laugh, and got up hastily, rememberingthe presence of the Pilgrim on the ranch.
"I see, and I will think it over and take what precautionary measuresare necessary and possible."
Billy, not quite sure that he had sufficiently impressed Dill withthe importance of the matter, turned at the door and looked in again,meaning to add an emphatic word or two; but when he saw that Dill wasstaring round-eyed at nothing at all, and that Lamb was lyingsprawled wide open on the floor, his face relaxed from its anxiousdetermination.
"I got his think-works going--he'll do the rest," he told himselfsatisfiedly, and pushed the subject from him. Just now he wanted tomake sure the Pilgrim wasn't getting more smiles than were coming tohim--and if you had left the decision of that with Billy, the Pilgrimwould have had none at all.
"I wisht he'd _do_ something I could lay my finger on--damn him," hereflected. "I can't kick him out on the strength uh my own privateopinion. I'd just simply lay myself wide open to all kinds uhremarks. I _ain't_ jealous; he ain't got any particular stand-in withFlora--but if I started action on him, that's what the general verdictwould be. Oh, thunder!"
Nothing of his thoughts showed in his manner when he went out to wherethey were. He found them just putting up a target made of a sheet oftablet paper marked with a lead pencil into rings and an uncertaincentre, and he went straight into the game with a smile. He loadedthe gun for Flora, showed her exactly how to "draw a fine bead," andotherwise deported himself in a way not calculated to be pleasing tothe Pilgrim. He called her Flora boldly whenever occasion offered, andhe exulted inwardly at the proprietary way in which she said "BillyBoy" and ordered him around. Of course, _he_ knew quite well thatthere was nothing but frank-eyed friendship back of it all; but thePilgrim plainly did not know and was a good deal inclined to sulk overhis interpretation.
So Billy, when came the time for sleeping, grinned in the dark of hisroom and dwelt with much satisfaction upon the manner of the Pilgrim'sdeparture. He prophesied optimistically that he guessed that wouldhold the Pilgrim for a while, and that he himself could go on round-upand not worry any over what was happening at the ranch.
For the Pilgrim had come into the kitchen, ostensibly for a drink ofwater, and had found Miss Flora fussily adjusting the Klondyke nuggetpin in the tie of Charming Billy, as is the way of women when theyknow they may bully a man with impunity--and she was saying: "Now,Billy Boy, if you don't learn to stick that pin in straight and nothave the point standing out a foot, I'll--" That is where the Pilgrimcame in and interrupted. And he choked over the dipper of water evenas Billy choked over his glee, and left the ranch within fifteenminutes and rode, as Billy observed to the girl, "with a haughtyspine."
"Oh, joy!" chuckled Billy when he lived those minutes over again, andpunched the pillow facetiously. "Oh, joy, oh Johnathan! I guess maybehe didn't get a jolt, huh? And the way--the very _tone_ when I calledher Flora--sounded like the day was set for the wedding and we'd goneand ordered the furniture!"
The mood of him was still triumphant three days after when he turnedin his saddle and waved his hand to Flora, who waved wistfully ba
ck athim. "It ain't any cinch right now--but I'll have her yet," he cheeredhimself when the twinge of parting was keenest.