CHAPTER VIII.
_Just a Day-dream._
Charming Billy rode humped over the saddle-horn, as rides one whosemind feels the weight of unpleasant thoughts. Twice he had glanceduncertainly at his companion, opening his lips for speech; twice hehad closed them silently and turned again to the uneven trail.
Mr. Dill also was humped forward in the saddle, but if one might judgefrom his face it was because he was cold. The wind blew chill from outthe north and they were facing it; the trail they followed was frozenhard and the gray clouds above promised snow. The cheek-bones of Dillwere purple and the point of his long nose was very red. Tears stoodin his eyes, whipped there by the biting wind.
"How far are we now from town?" he asked dispiritedly.
"Only about five miles," Billy cheered. Then, as if trivial speech hadmade easier what he had in mind to say, he turned resolutely towardthe other. "Yuh expect to meet old man Robinson there, don't yuh?"
"That was the arrangement, as I understood it"
"And you're thinking strong of buying him out?"
"His place appeals to me more than any of the others, and--yes, itseems to me that I can't do better." Mr. Dill turned the collar of hiscoat up a bit farther--or fancied he did so--and looked questioninglyat Billy.
"Yuh gave me leave to advise yuh where yuh needed it," Billy saidalmost challengingly, "and I'm going to call yuh, right here and now.If yuh take my advice yuh won't go making medicine with old Robinsonany more. He'll do yuh, sure. He's asking yuh double what the outfit'sworth. They _all_ are. It looks to me like they think you're just outhere to get rid of your pile and the bigger chunk they can pry loosefrom yuh the better. I was going to put yuh next before this, only yuhdidn't seem to take to any uh the places real serious, so it wasn'tnecessary."
"I realize that one cannot buy land and cattle for nothing," Dillchuckled. "It seemed to me that, compared with the prices others haveasked, Mr. Robinson's offer was very reasonable."
"It may be lower than Jacobs and Wilter, but that don't make itright."
"Well, there were the Two Sevens"--he meant the Seventy-Seven, butthat was a mere detail--"I didn't get to see the owner, you know. Ihave written East, however, and should hear from him in a few days."
"Yuh ain't likely to do business with _that_ layout, because I don'tbelieve they'd sell at any price. Old Robinson is the washout yuh wantto ride around at present; I ain't worrying about the rest, right now.He's a smooth old devil, and he'll do yuh sure."
To this Mr. Dill made no reply whatever. He fumbled the fastenings onhis coon-skin coat, tried to pull his cap lower and looked altogetherunhappy. And Charming Billy, not at ail sure that his advice would betaken or his warning heeded, stuck the spurs into his horse and set afaster pace reflecting gloomily upon the trials of being confidentialadviser to one who, in a perfectly mild and good-mannered fashion,goes right along doing pretty much as he pleases.
It made him think, somehow, of Miss Bridger and the way she had forcedhim to take his gun with him when he had meant to leave it. She waslike Dill in that respect: nice and good-natured and smiling--onlyDill smiled but seldom--and yet always managing to make you give upyour own wishes. He wished vaguely that the wanderings of Dill wouldbring them back to the Double-Crank country, instead of leading themalways farther afield. He did not, however, admit openly to himselfthat he wanted to see Miss Bridger again; yet he did permit himselfto wonder if she ever played coon-can with any one else, or if she hadalready forgotten the game. Probably she had, and--well, a good manyother things that he remembered quite distinctly.
Later, when they had reached town, were warmed and fed and when evenBilly was thinking seriously of sleep, Dill came over and sat downbeside him solemnly, folded his bony hands upon knees quite as bony,regarded pensively the generously formed foot dangling some distancebefore him and smiled his puckered smile.
"I have been wondering, William, if you had not some plan of your ownconcerning this cattle-raising business, which you think is betterthan mine but which you hesitate to express. If you have, I hope youwill feel quite free to--er--lay it before the head of the firm. Itmay interest you to know that I have, as you would put it, 'failed toconnect' with Mr. Robinson. So, if you have any ideas--"
"Oh, I'm burning up with 'em," Charming Billy retorted in a way hemeant to be sarcastic, but which Mr. Dill took quite seriously.
"Then I hope you won't hesitate--"
"Now look here, Dilly," expostulated he, between puffs. "Recollect,it's _your_ money that's going to feed the birds--and it's yourprivilege to throw it out to suit yourself. Uh course, I mightday-dream about the way I'd start into the cow-business if I was amillionaire--"
"I'm not a millionaire," Mr. Dill hastened to correct. "A couple ofhundred thousand or so, is about all--"
"Well, a fellow don't have to pin himself down to just so many dollarsand cents--not when he's building himself a pet dream. And if a fellowdreams about starting up an outfit of his own, it don't prove he'dmake it stick in reality." The tone of Billy, however, did not expressany doubt.
Mr. Dill untangled his legs, crossed them the other way and regardedthe other dangling foot. "I should like very much," he hinted mildly,"to have you tell me this--er--day-dream, as you call it."
So Charming Billy, tilted back in his chair and watching withhalf-shut eyes the intangible smoke-wreath from his cigarette, foundwords for his own particular air-castle which he had builded on sunnydays when the Double-Crank herds grazed peacefully around him; or onstormy nights when he sat alone in the line-camp and played solitairewith the mourning wind crooning accompaniment; or on long rides alone,when the trail was plain before him and the grassland stretched awayand away to a far sky-line, and the white clouds sailed sleepily overhis head and about him the meadowlarks sang. And while he found thewords, he somehow forgot Dill, long and lean and lank, listeningbeside him, and spoke more freely than he had meant to do when Dillfirst opened the subject a few minutes before.
"Recollect, this is just a day-dream," he began. "But, if I was amillionaire, or if I had two hundred thousand dollars--and to me theydon't sound much different--I'd sure start a cow-outfit right awayimmediately at once. But I wouldn't buy out nobody; I'd go right backand start like they did--if they're real old-timers. I'd go down southinto Texas and I'd buy me a bunch uh two-year-olds and bring 'em uphere, and turn 'em loose on the best piece of open range I know--andI know a peach. In a year or so I'd go back and do the same again, andI'd keep it up whilst my money held out I'd build me a home ranch backsomewheres in a draw in the hills, where there's lots uh water andlots uh shelter, and I'd get a bunch uh men that savvied cow-brutes,put 'em on horses that wouldn't trim down their self-respect everytime they straddled 'em, and then I'd just ride around and watchmyself get rich. And--" He stopped and dreamed silently over hiscigarette.
"And then?" urged Mr. Dill, after a moment.
"And then--I'd likely get married, and raise a bunch uh boys to carryon the business when I got old and fat, and too damn' lazy to ride offa walk."
Mr. Dill took three minutes to weigh the matter. Then, musingly: "I'mnot sure about the boys. I'm not a marrying man, myself--but justgiving a snap judgment on the other part of it, I will say itsounds--well, feasible."