CHAPTER V--"OLD TROUBLE-MAKER" TURNED LOOSE
After getting to bed at midnight it could not be expected that the youngpeople at Silver Ranch would be astir early on the morning following thefire scare. But Ruth, who was used to being up with the sun at the RedMill--and sometimes a little before the orb of day--slipped out of the bigroom in which the six girls were domiciled when she heard the first stirabout the corrals.
When she came out upon the veranda that encircled the ranch-house,wreaths of mist hung knee-high in the coulee--mist which, as soon as thesun peeked over the hills, would be dissipated. The ponies were snortingand stamping at their breakfasts--great armfuls of alfalfa hay which thehorse wranglers had pitched over the fence. Maria, the Mexican woman,came up from the cowshed with two brimming pails of milk, for the SilverRanch boasted a few milch cows at the home place, and there had beensweet butter on the table at supper the night before--something which isusually very scarce on a cattle ranch.
Ruth ran down to the corral and saw, on the bench outside the bunkhousedoor, the row of buckets in which the boys had their morning plunge. Thesleeping arrangements at Silver Ranch being rather primitive, Tom andBob had elected to join the cowboys in the big bunkhouse, and they hadrisen as early as the punchers and made their own toilet in the buckets,too. The sheet-iron chimney of the chuckhouse kitchen was smoking, andfrying bacon and potatoes flavored the keen air for yards around.
Bashful Ike, the foreman, met the Eastern girl at the corner of thecorral fence. He was a pleasant, smiling man; but the blood rose to thevery roots of his hair and he got into an immediate perspiration if agirl looked at him. When Ruth bade him good-morning Ike's cheeks beganto flame and he grew instantly tongue-tied! Beyond nodding a greetingand making a funny noise in his throat he gave no notice that he waslike other human beings and could talk. But Ruth had an idea in her mindand Bashful Ike could help her carry it through better than anybodyelse.
"Mr. Ike," she said, softly, "do you know about this man they sayprobably set the fire last night?"
Ike gulped down something that seemed to be choking him and mumbled thathe supposed he had seen the fellow "about once."
"Do you think he is crazy, Mr. Ike?" asked the Eastern girl.
"I--I swanny! I couldn't be sure as to that, Miss," stammered the foremanof Silver Ranch. "The boys say he acts plumb locoed."
"'Locoed' means crazy?" she persisted.
"Why, Miss, clear 'way down south from us, 'long about the Mexicanborder, thar's a weed grows called loco, and if critters eats it, theysay it crazies 'em--for a while, anyway. So, Miss," concluded Ike,stumbling less in his speech now, "if a man or a critter acts battylike, we say he's locoed."
"I understand. But if this man they suspect of setting the fire is crazyhe isn't responsible for what he does, is he?"
"Well, Miss, mebbe not. But we can't have no onresponsible fellerhangin' around yere scatterin' fire--no, sir!--ma'am, I mean," Ike hastilyadded, his face flaming up like an Italian sunset again.
"No; I suppose not. But I understand the man stays around that old campat Tintacker, more than anywhere else?"
"That's so, I reckon," agreed Ike. "The boys don't see him often."
"Can't you make the boys just scare him into keeping off the range,instead of doing him real harm? They seemed very angry about the fire."
"I dunno, Miss. Old Bill's some hot under the collar himself--and hemight well be. Last night's circus cost him a pretty penny."
"Did you ever see this man they say is crazy?" demanded Ruth.
"I told you I did oncet."
"What sort of a looking man is he?"
"He ain't no more'n a kid, Miss. That's it; he's jest a tenderfoot kid."
"A boy, you mean?" queried Ruth, anxiously.
"Not much older than that yere whitehead ye brought with yuh," said Ike,beginning to grin now that he had become a bit more familiar with theEastern girl, and pointing at Bob Steele. "And he ain't no bigger thanhim."
"You wouldn't let your boys injure a young fellow like that, would you?"cried Ruth. "It wouldn't be right."
"I dunno how I'm goin' to stop 'em from mussin' him up a whole lot ifthey chances acrost him," said Ike, slowly. "He'd ought to be shut up,so he had."
"Granted. But he ought not to be abused. Another thing, Ike--I'll tellyou a secret."
"Uh-huh?" grunted the surprised foreman.
"I want to see that young man awfully!" said Ruth. "I want to talk withhim----"
"Sufferin' snipes!" gasped Ike, becoming so greatly interested that heforgot it was a girl he was talking with. "What you wanter see thatlooney critter for?"
"Because I'm greatly interested in the Tintacker Mine, and they say thisyoung fellow usually sticks to that locality," replied Ruth, smiling onthe big cow puncher. "Don't you think I can learn to ride well enough totravel that far before we return to the East?"
"To ride to Tintacker, Miss?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Why, suah, Miss!" cried Ike, cordially. "I'll pick you-all out a nicepony what's well broke, and I bet you'll ride him lots farther thanthat. I'll rope him now--I know jest the sort of a hawse you'd oughterride----"
"No; you go eat your breakfast with the other boys," laughed Ruth,preparing to go back to the ranch-house. "Jane Ann says we're all tohave ponies to ride and she maybe will be disappointed if I don't lether pick out mine for me," added Ruth, with her usual regard for thefeelings of her mates. "But I am going to depend on you, Mr. Ike, toteach me to ride."
"And when you want to ride over to Tintacker tuh interview that yeremaverick, yo' let me know, Miss," said Bashful Ike. "I'll see that yuhgit thar with proper escort, and all that," and he grinned sheepishly.
Tom and Bob breakfasted with the punchers, but after the regular meal atthe ranch-house the two boys hastened to join their girl friends. Firstthey must all go to the corral and pick out their riding ponies. Helen,Madge and The Fox could ride fairly well; but Jane Ann had warned themthat Eastern riding would not do on the ranch. Such a thing as aside-saddle was unknown, so the girls had all supplied themselves withdivided skirts so that they could ride astride like the Western girl.Besides, a cow pony would not stand for the long skirt of a riding habitflapping along his flank.
Now, Ruth had ridden a few times on Helen's pony, and away back when shewas a little girl she had ridden bareback on an old horse belonging tothe blacksmith at Darrowtown. So she was not afraid to try the nervouslittle flea-bitten gray that Ike Stedman roped and saddled and bridledfor her. Jane Ann declared it to be a favorite pony of her own, andalthough the little fellow did not want to stand while his saddle wasbeing cinched, and stamped his cunning little feet on the ground a goodbit, Ike assured the girl of the Red Mill that "Freckles," as theycalled him, was "one mighty gentle hawse!"
There was no use in the girls from the East showing fear; Ruth was tooplucky to do that, anyway. She was not really afraid of the pony; butwhen she was in the saddle it did seem as though Freckles danced morethan was necessary.
These cow ponies never walk--unless they are dead tired; about Freckles'easiest motion was a canter that carried Ruth over the prairie soswiftly that her loosened hair flowed behind her in the wind, and for atime she could not speak--until she became adjusted to the pony's motion.But she liked riding astride much better than on a side-saddle, and shesoon lost her fear. Ike had given her some good advice about the holdingof her reins so that a sharp pull on Freckles' curb would instantlybring the pony down to a dead stop. The bashful one had screwed tinyspurs into the heels of her high boots and given her a light quirt, orwhip.
The other girls--all but Heavy--were, as we have seen, more used to ridingthan the girl of the Red Mill; but with the stout girl the whole partyhad a great deal of fun. Of course, Jennie Stone expected to causehilarity among her friends; she "poked fun" at herself all the time, socould not object if the others laughed.
"I'll never in this world be able to get into a saddle without a kitchenchair to step upon," Jennie
groaned, as she saw the other girls choosingtheir ponies. "Mercy! if I got on that little Freckles, he'd squat rightdown--I know he would! You'll have to find something bigger than theserabbits for _me_ to ride on."
At that she heard the girls giggling behind her and turned to face agreat, droop-headed, long-eared roan mule, with hip bones that you couldhang your hat on--a most forlorn looking bundle of bones that hadevidently never recovered the climatic change from the river bottoms ofMissouri to the uplands of Montana. Tom Cameron held the mule with atrace-chain around his neck and he offered the end of the chain to Heavywith a perfectly serious face.
"I believe you'd better saddle this chap, Jennie," said Tom. "You seehow he's built--the framework is great. I know he can hold you up allright. Just look at how he's built."
"Looks like the steel framework of a skyscraper," declared Heavy,solemnly. "Don't you suppose I might fall in between the ribs if Iclimbed up on that thing? I thought you were a better friend to me thanthat, Tom Cameron. You'd deliberately let me risk my life by beingtangled up in that moth-eaten bag o' bones if it collapsed under me. No!I'll risk one of these rabbits. I'll have less distance to fall if Iroll."
But the little cow ponies were tougher than the stout girl supposed. Ikeweighed in the neighborhood of a hundred and eighty pounds--solid boneand muscle--and the cayuse that he bestrode when at work was no biggerthan Ruth's Freckles. They hoisted Heavy into the saddle, and Tomoffered to lash her there if she didn't feel perfectly secure.
"You needn't mind, Tommy," returned the stout girl. "If, in the courseof human events, it becomes necessary for me to disembark from thissaddle, I'll probably want to get down quick. There's no use inhampering me. I take my life in my hand--with these reins--and--ugh! ugh!ugh!" she finished as, on her picking up the lines, her restive ponyinstantly broke into the liveliest kind of a trot.
But after all, Heavy succeeded in riding pretty well; while Ruth, afteran hour, was not afraid to let her pony take a pretty swift gait withher. Jane Ann, however, showed remarkable skill and made the Easterngirls fairly envious. She had ridden, of course, ever since she was bigenough to hold bridle reins, and there were few of the punchers whocould handle a horse better than the ranchman's niece.
But the visitors from the East did not understand this fact fully untila few days later, when the first bunch of Spring calves and yearlingswere driven into a not far distant corral to be branded. Branding is oneof the big shows on a cattle ranch, and Ruth and her chums did notintend to miss the sight; besides, some of the boys had corraled OldTrouble-Maker near by and promised some fancy work with the big blackand white steer.
"We'll show you some roping now," said Jane Ann, with enthusiasm. "Justcutting a little old cow out of that band in the corral and throwing itain't nothing. Wait till we turn Old Trouble-Maker loose."
The whole party rode over to the branding camp, and there was the blackand white steer as wild as ever. While the branding was going on the bigsteer bellowed and stamped and tried to break the fence down. The smellof the burning flesh, and the bellowing of the calves and yearlings astheir ears were slit, stirred the old fellow up.
"Something's due to happen when that feller gits turned out," declaredJib Pottoway. "You goin' to try to rope that contrary critter, JaneAnn?"
"It'll be a free-for-all race; Ike says so," cried Jane Ann. "You wait!You boys think you're so smart. I'll rope that steer myself--maybe."
The punchers laughed at this boast; but they all liked Jane Ann and hadit been possible to make her boast come true they would have seen to itthat she won. But Old Trouble-Maker, as Jib said, "wasn't a lady's cow."
It was agreed that only a free-for-all dash for the old fellow woulddo--and out on the open range, at that. Old Trouble-Maker was to beturned out of the corral, given a five-rod start, and then the bunch whowanted to have a tussle with the steer would start for him. Just to makeit interesting Old Bill Hicks had put up a twenty dollar gold piece, tobe the property of the winner of the contest--that is, to the one whosucceeded in throwing and "hog-tieing" Old Trouble-Maker.
It was along in the cool of the afternoon when the bars of the smallcorral were let down and the steer was prodded out into the open. Theold fellow seemed to know that there was fun in store for him. At firsthe pawed the ground and seemed inclined to charge the line of punchers,and even shook his head at the group of mounted spectators, who werebunched farther back on the hillside. Bashful Ike stopped _that_ idea,however, for, as master of ceremonies, he rode in suddenly and used hisquirt on the big steer. With a bellow Old Trouble-Maker swung around andstarted for the skyline. Ike trotted on behind him till the steer passedthe five-rod mark. Then pulling the big pistol that swung at his hip theforeman shot a fusilade into the ground which started the steer off at agallop, tail up and head down, and spurred the punchers into instantaction, as well.
"Ye-yip!" yelled Bashful Ike. "Now let's see what you 'ombres air goodfor with a rope. Go to it!"