*CHAPTER VI*
*FRIENDLY INTEREST*
Freshly shaven, his boots well rubbed, and his clothes as free from dustas possible, Tex sauntered down the street after breakfast the nextmorning and stepped into the stable. John Graves met him, nodded, andled the way to the roan's stall.
"You got a fine hoss, Mr. Jones," he said, opening the gate.
"Yes, I have; an' you've taken good care of him. His coat couldn't bebetter. I like a man that looks after a hoss."
"I ain't sayin' nothin' about nobody, but I'm glad to see him changeowners," said Graves, glancing around. "Rub yore hand on his flank. Igot th' coat so it hides 'em real well."
Tex stroked the white nose, rubbed the neck and shoulders, and slowlypassed his hand over the flank. The scars were easily found. He wheeledand looked at the stableman. "Who in h--l did that, an' why?" hedemanded.
"That ain't for me to say, an' sayin' wouldn't do no good; but I'm plumbglad he's in other hands. Just because a hoss fights back when he'sbein' abused ain't no reason to cut him to pieces. An' a big man cankick hard when he's mad."
Tex held a lump of sugar to the sensitive, velvety lips before replying."Yes, he can," he admitted. "Anybody in town that'll treat this hossright, an' give him a stall?"
"Better see Jim Carney in his saloon. He's a good, reliable man an'likes hosses. He'll take good care of Oh My."
Tex stared at him. "Of what?"
"Oh My," replied the stableman. "Th' rest of th' name is Cayenne."
"'Suffer little children!'" exclaimed Tex. "Who named him that, anwhy?"
"I reckon Williams did, because he's peppery an' red."
"Good heavens!" ejaculated Tex. He thought a moment. "Huh! Prophet!Mecca! Mohammed!" he muttered. Suddenly seeing a great light, heflipped his sombrero into the air, caught and balanced it on his nosewhen it came down, sidestepped, and as it fell, punched it across thestable. Turning gravely he shook hands with the surprised stableman,slapped him on the shoulder and burst out laughing. "Where'n blazes didhe dig 'em up? He don't know what one of them names means; _There wasthe Veil through which I might not see_. Come, John: _Oh, many a Cup ofthis forbidden Wine must drown the memory of that insolence!_ Wait tillI get my hat: _Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape than saddenafter none, or bitter, Fruit._"
Carney gave them a nonchalant welcome and displayed little interest inthem until Graves told him about the horse.
"Th' roan, eh?" exclaimed the saloonkeeper. "I'll shore find a placefor it, but I'm afraid it'll miss th' beatin's. There's a closet builtacross one corner of th' stable: I'll give you a key to it, Mr. Jones.It'll be handy for yore trappin's."
After a few rounds Tex went out, mounted bareback and, leaving Graves infront of the stable, rode to the hotel to get his saddle. Soonthereafter he dismounted at the station and smiled at the agent.
"'Richard is himself again,'" he chuckled, affectionately patting Omar."An' I still have my kingdom."
"He looks fit for a king to ride," replied Jerry.
"He'd honor a king. How's th' hen ranch comin' along? Got th' fence upyet?"
"Yes; Murphy just finished it. That looks like Williams' roan."
"It was. I won it at poker. I could feel in my fingers that I wasgoin' to be lucky. Hello!" he exclaimed, looking at a box across thetrack. On it were painted irregular, concentric circles. "Looks likeit might be a target."
Jerry laughed. "It is; and so far, unhit."
Tex glanced at the other's low-hung belt and gun. "Have you shot at ityet?"
Jerry nodded.
"From where?"
"Right here."
"Great mavericks!" said Tex. "Here: let's see how fast you can get thatgun out, an' empty it at that box. I got a reason for it."
At the succession of reports the toolshed door flew open and a hugeIrishman, rifle in hand, popped into sight. Seeing Tex he grunted andslowly went back again.
Tex looked from the box to the marksman, shook his head, silentlyunbuckled the belt from its owner's waist, took the empty gun from theagent's hand, and tossed the outfit on a near-by box.
"Don't you carry it, Jerry," he said. "Load it up an' leave it home.Popular feelin', even in this town, frowns at th' shootin' of an unarmedman. It's somethin' that's hard to explain away."
"But then I'll be defenseless!" expostulated Jerry, "It's someprotection."
"You were defenseless before I took it from you," said Tex.
"But it is some protection," Jerry reiterated.
Tex shook his head. "It's a screaming invitation for a killin', that'swhat it is. Here: That's you," pointing to the target. "You gotsomethin' I want plumb bad. You try to stop me from gettin' it, an' Iwon't listen to you. I force th' hand an' you make a move that I canclaim was hostile. Yo're armed, ain't you? I might even slap yoreface. Then this happens."
The spurting smoke enveloped them both, the stabs of flame and the sharpreports coming with unbelievable rapidity. Stepping from the gray fog,Tex pointed. The box was split and turned part way around. The innertwo circles showed six holes.
"I did it in self-defense. What chance did you have?" demanded thepuncher.
"Great guns! What shooting!" marveled Jerry, his mouth open.
"That's good shootin'," admitted Tex. "Better, mebby, than most men inthis town can do, quite a lot better than th' average. There's plentyof men who can't do as good. Th' draw was more'n fair, too; better thanmost gun-toters; but I know two men that would 'a' killed me before Ijerked loose from th' leather. I wasn't showin' off: I was answerin'yore remark about a gun bein' some protection to you. While we'respeakin' about guns, can Miss Saunders use one? Bein' a woman I hardlythought so, unless Hennery has taught her."
"Henry!" growled Jerry. "Why would he teach her?"
"Why a young woman like her would be right popular, out here, oranywhere else," replied Tex. "House full of admirers, an' otherstaggin' along. I reckoned Hennery might have showed her how to shoot."
"The devil had a better chance," retorted Jerry. "If Henry ever callsat our house she'll scald him. She thinks about as little of Henry asshe does of a snake."
"I'm admirin' Miss Saunders more every day," said Tex. "Havin' disposedof th' interpolation, we'll get at th' main subject. As I was sayin',bein' a woman, she's not likely to be shot at. But I'm sorry yore Coltis so big: she couldn't drag a gun like that around with her. Besides,th' caliber needn't be so big."
"I got a short-barreled .38 home," said Jerry. He looked a littleworried. "What makes you talk like that?"
"Bein' a gunman, I reckon; an' my ornery, suspicious nature," answeredTex. "Bein' a poker player for years, readin' faces is a hobby with me.I've read some in this town that I don't like. 'Taint nothin' to put afinger on, but I'm so cussed suspicious of every male biped of th' genushomo that I allus look for th' worst. Anyhow, it wouldn't be no crimeif Miss Saunders knew how to use that snub-nosed .38, would it? Sort ofgive her a sense of security. Then, if Murphy or our adolescent Watkinstook her out ridin' an showed her how to get th' most out of its limitedpossibilities, it ought to relieve yore mind."
"I don't know of anyone better qualified to get the most out of a gunthan yourself," replied Jerry. "If it ain't asking too much," hehastily added.
"Havin' a brand-new, Cayenne pepper cayuse to learn about, an' showoff," laughed Tex, "it wouldn't set on me like a calamity. Shall Ibring a horse for Miss Saunders, or saddle up her own?"
"She hasn't any; but----"
"--me no buts," interrupted Tex. "I'll now pay my respects to yoresister, with yore permission, an' invite her to ride out with me,tomorrow, an' view th' lovely brown hills an' dusty flats, where everyprospect pleases, an' only man is vile. Procrastination never was a sinof mine: it's th' one I overlooked. We'll likely go far enough fromtown so there won't be no panicky fears of a hostile raid. Does MissSaunders favor any particular hoss?"
"
No, and she can ride, so you won't have to get one that's nearly dead."
Tex laughed. "All right; but when she gets it, it won't be as ornery asit might be. How is it that nobody but Murphy paid any attention to ourshootin'?"
"They're used to it by this time."
"Well, so-long," and Tex swung into the saddle and rode off.
Jane showed her pleasure at his visit and smilingly accepted hisinvitation to go riding. They examined the coop and yard, talked ofnumerous things and after awhile Tex turned to leave, but stopped andgrinned.
"Bring your six-gun, Miss Saunders, and we'll have a match," he said."The great western target, the ubiquitous tin can, is sure to beplentiful, despite the killing drought."
"My gun?" she laughed. "I have no gun. Do you think that I go aroundwith a gun?"
He tapped his forehead significantly. "I'm so used to carrying one thatI forgot. Shucks, that's too bad. Well, if we overtake any wild cansyou can use mine, although a smaller gun would be more pleasant for you.Too bad you haven't a short-barreled gun--a .32, for instance. Shootingis really great sport. Then I'm to call at two o'clock?"
"If there was some place where we could enjoy a lunch," she murmured."We could leave earlier and get back earlier."
"There is sure to be," assured Tex, smiling. "Say ten o'clock, then?"
"That will be much better. I'll have everything ready when you come.Is there anything in the eating line which you particularly fancy?"
Tex fanned himself with the sombrero, a happy expression on his face."Yes, there is," he admitted. "Mallard duck stuffed with Chesapeakeoysters. Plenty of cold, crisp, tender celery, and any really goodbrand of dry champagne. I'll enjoy anything you prepare, and I'll havea round-up appetite."
"I'll try to give you a change from hotel food," she laughed as he swunginto the saddle.
She watched him ride away and walked slowly back to the house. Then herface brightened a little as she thought of the revolver in Jerry's room.Jerry had said it was a .38.
The station agent answered the hail and went out to the edge of theplatform.
"All fixed?" he asked.
Tex nodded. "You get her to bring that gun. I paved the way for it,but you know her better than I do, and how to persuade her withoutmaking her frightened. What's it shoot: longs, or shorts? That's good;shorts are O.K. Is Murphy in th' toolshed?"
"He's married to it," smiled Jerry.
"If you see him, tell him I'm goin' to call on him late tonight. If hislight's _out_ I'll know he's home. Any fool would know it if it waslit. Well, so-long."
Jerry looked after him and shook his head, a peculiar, baffled, friendlylight in his eyes. "I don't know when you are most serious: when youare serious, or when, you are joking. Was your warning about my gunjust a general one, or did it have a special meaning? And about Janelearning to shoot? What do you know, how much do you know, and why areyou bothering about us? The Heathen Chinee was simple beside you, TexJones."
He coughed and turned to enter the station, but stopped in his tracks asa possible solution came to him. "I wonder, now," he cogitated, and fellinto the vernacular. "She's a fine girl, sis is; but headstrong. Cussit, if it ain't one thing it's another. I don't even know his name isJones, or how many wives he may have. Oh, well: I'll have to wait andsee how it heads."
Tex rode slowly down the street, very well satisfied with himself. Hehad warned the agent, owned a fine horse that cost him nothing, and wasgoing riding on the morrow with a very interesting and pretty youngwoman. Suddenly he took cognizance of a thought which had been trying toget his attention for quite some time: Where was Jake and what was hedoing?
"I'm gettin' careless," he reproved himself. "I ain't seen my littleplaymate since I paralyzed his nerve system. He didn't act like a manwho would go into retirement with a thing like that tagged to him. Ireckon he's plannin' a comeback: but a man like him usually actsquicker. All right, Jake: you take plenty of time an' work it out well.An' that's shore good advice."
There came a sudden yelping from the other side of a near-by building,so high-pitched, continuous, and full of agony that something movedalong his spine. He reacted to the misery in the sound without givingit any thought, and when he turned the corner of the store and saw achained dog being beaten by one of the town's ne'er-do-wells his hand ofits own volition loosened the coiled rope at the saddle and swung ittwice around his head. The soft lariat leaped through the air like astriking snake, and as it dropped over its victim, the roan instantlyobeyed its training.
Jerked off his feet, his arms imprisoned at his sides, the dog beaterslid, rolled, and bumped along the ground, at first too startled toprotest. Then his voice arose in a stream of blasphemous inquiry,finishing with a petition. Tex rode along without a backward glance,deeply engrossed by some interesting problem and nearly had reachedCarney's saloon before he became conscious of his surroundings. Aminer, cursing, leaped to the roan's head and checked her, shoutingprofanely at the rider.
Tex checked the horse, looked curiously down at the protestor and then,sensing the burden of the other's remarks and becoming aware of themaledictions behind him, turned languidly in the saddle and looked backin time to see a dust-covered figure stagger to its feet and throw offthe slackened rope.
"Hey!" shouted Tex indignantly. "What you doin' with my rope? Thinkit's worth th' price of a few drinks, eh? You drop it, _pronto_! An'as for you, my Christian friend," he said to the man at the roan's head,"if you ever grab my cayuse like that again me an' you are shore goin'to have an impolite little party all to ourselves. Drop thathackamore."
"You was killin' that man!" yelled the miner, loosening his hold andshowing fight.
"Well, what of it?" demanded Tex. "Any man that chains up a dog an'then beats it like he was, ain't got no right to live. If I don't killhim, somebody else will. What you raisin' all th' hellabaloo about?"
"I reckon you ain't far from wrong," said the other, by this time fullyaware of the identity of the dog beater. "I'm nat'rally for law an'order. Whiskey Jim ain't no good, I'm admittin'!"
"If yo're for law an' order you must be lonesome associatin' all byyoreself in this squaw town," replied Tex, grinning, but not for onemoment losing sight of Whiskey Jim, who at that moment was stooping topick up a stone lying against the corner of a building. Tex sent a shotover his head and the incident was closed. "What do you do forcompany?"
"I ain't hankerin' for none," answered the miner, smiling grimly. "Ionly come in for supplies, an' don't stay long. You a stranger here?"
"That's unkind; but, seein' as how I ain't as much a stranger now as Iwas when I come, I won't hold it ag'in' you. Mebby I am gettin' to looklike I belonged here." He laughed. "I don't know very many, buteverybody knows me. They point with pride when they see me comin'; an'cock their guns behind their backs with their other hand. Where youlocated, friend?"
"Second fork on Buffaler Crick, th' first crick west of town. Quickestway is to foller th' track. Be glad to see you any time. Mine's th'shack above Jake's."
"I envy you," replied Tex. "See much of our mutual friend?"
"Only when he wants to borry somethin'," grinned the other. "I see yougot th' pick of Williams' animals under yore saddle."
"I was lucky pickin', I admits," beamed Tex. "Nice feller, Williams."
"For them as likes him. Well, friend, I'm mushin' on. Name's Blascom."
"Tex Jones is my _nom du guerre_," replied Tex. "Th' north is a bettercountry than this for minin'. How'd you ever come to leave it?"
Blascom looked at him questioningly. "Yes, reckon it is; but how'd youknow I come from there?"
"They don't mush nowhere else that I know of," chuckled Tex. He coiledthe dusty lariat, shook it, and brushed his chaps where it had touched,waved his farewell; and went on to Carney's, where he dismounted andwent in.
"Just met Whiskey Jim," he said across the bar.
"I congratulate you."
"Who's he livin' on?"
"Th' whole town," answered Carney. "He used to hang around here, seein'what he could steal, but I kicked his pants around his neckband an' heain't favorin' me no more. Reckon he belongs to Williams."
"Then he must do somethin' for his keep," suggested Tex. "Our friendGustavus Adolphus ain't no philanthropist, I'm bettin'."
"No; Gus is a Republican," replied Carney. "Whiskey Jim used to ridefor him, an' mebby Gus is scared not to look after him a little."
Tex nodded. "Good reason; good, plain, practical, common-sense reason.Now, Carney--I want a good hoss for a lady, an' I'll have a little rideon it before I turn it over. Want it tomorrow mornin' at eighto'clock."
"Miss Saunders won't thank you much for tirin' it out."
"You couldn't help guessin' right th' first time," accused Tex. "Thereain't no other ladies that I've seen or heard about. What th' ladydon't know won't hurt her pride or spoil her appetite. Cuss it, man; Iain't aimin' to kill th' beast!"
"I reckon you know what yo're goin' to do with th' hoss," repliedCarney, thoughtfully; "but I wonder do you know what yo're doin', goin'ridin' with that little lady?"
Tex regarded him with level gaze. "Meanin'?" he coldly demanded.
"Meanin' that claim is staked, th' notices posted, an' trespasserswarned off; which is a d--d shame!"
"Hearsay ain't no good. I ain't been formally notified in writin',"replied Tex. "Until I am, I act natural; an' after I am, twice asnatural, bein' mean by nature an' disposition. All of which reminds methat this is a remarkable town, an' that there's a re-markable man init."
His companion studied him for a moment. "You should keep yore hat onwhen yo're ridin' around in th' sun. Th' only remarkable thing aboutthis town is that it's still alive. Th' only remarkable man in it hasbeen buried these last twenty years, up yonder on Boot Hill."
"I'm joinin' issue with you on that," replied Tex. "Th' sense of loyaltyan' affection of this town for its leadin' citizen is a great an'beautiful thing for these degenerate, money-mad days. Parenthetically,I wonder if there was ever a time when th' days were anythin' else?Why, everybody is his friend! There's Jake, an' th' nephew, WhiskeyJim, Tim Murphy, Jerry Saunders, John Graves, Blascom, you, an' me. Idon't know any more at this writin'. An' that leadin' citizen, a man ofculture, wealth, and discernment, is our most esteemed Mr. Gus Williams.Hear! Hear!"
"There's some names you can scratch, Carney among 'em," growled thesaloonkeeper, spitting in violent disgust. "Yore touchin' paregoricnear makes me weep. an' I'm hard-shelled, like a clam. Two-thirds ofth' people here do what he says, because he either scares or fools 'em.Th' rest dassn't lynch him because they ain't strong enough. Wealth?Shore. He got most of it when th' trail was in full swing. His brands,an' he had a-plenty, were copied from some on th' south ranges near th'old trail. A herd comin' up, grazin' wide, or passin' through thatscrub an' hill country would near certain pick up a few local head onth' way, cattle bein' gregarious. Whiskey Jim was th' local herdtrimmer. He'd throw up a herd, claim any of th' stray brands asbelongin' around here. He had th' authority an' th' drawin's of thembrands. If it was a herd of Horseshoe an' Circle Dots he claimed everyother brand with them that was found this side of th' Cimarron. Youknow th' rules. He got 'em. Then there was stampedes, an' cattle runoff at night. One time it got so bad that there was talk of a thirdTexan Expedition to clean it up. Only this one would 'a' been for adifferent purpose than th' other two."
"You better keep off th' Texas Expedition," said Tex. "That was acovered invasion for th' freedom of th' pore, robbed, browbeaten NewMexicans; an' it come to a terrible end."
"Not th' one I'm referrin' to," retorted Carney, his face set anddetermined. "Th' second one--that plundered caravans on th' old SantaFe. I called this other one th' third only because of th' number of menwho would have been in it, an' because it was a Texas idea. But we'llnot quarrel. I had a good friend in th' second, avengin' th' first."
"I won't quarrel about Texas," said Tex. "Not bein' a Texan, my withersare unwrung. What did Williams do in th' face of that threat?"
"Drifted his herds off before snow flew, to a distant winter range an'let th' trail herds alone."
"That story ain't unusual," observed Tex. "He's a strange man. Picksqueer names for his hosses. I never heard such names. Take my roan,now: his name is Oh My Cayenne. That's a devil of a name for anythin',let alone a hoss. Where'd he ever git it?"
Carney laughed. "I'm agreein' with you, but he didn't name th' roan.That hoss was named by Windy Barrett, when he was blind drunk. Windywas a peculiar cuss; allus spoutin' poetry an' such nonsense. Readbooks while he was line ridin'. Well, he woke up one mornin' after aspree in Williams' stable. As he turned his head to see where he was,th' roan, then a colt, poked its nose over th' stall an' nuzzled him.One of th' boys was just goin' in th' stable an' saw th' whole thing.Windy pushes th' hoss away an' says, sadlike: 'Yo're dead wrong, Oh MyCayenne; it don't banish th' sorrers with its whirlwind sword.' Th'boys thought it was such a good joke they let th' name stick."
Tex looked dubious. "Mebby they thought so, but I'm not admittin' thatI do; an' it's no joke for any cayuse to have a name like that. Theregoes Bud Haines, ridin' out of town: he ain't earnin' his pay. Well,reckon I'll drift up an' see Williams. I allus like to be sociable.So-long."