CHAPTER XII
THE BARBECUE
Whatever the shortcomings of the American frontier code there never wasa time in its history when a man could violate the principles of fairplay and keep public opinion on his side. In this instance, Stone'sconduct reacted unfavorably on the cattlemen. The townspeople thatmade money out of the trade of the big ranches always stood up for thecattlemen, but they were put most unpleasantly on the defensive by theincident. Even had Stone's attempt on Laramie's life succeeded itwould have been easier, for the partisans, to handle than the failureit proved. As a _fait accompli_ it would have been regretted, butforgotten; as a failure it settled nothing.
Among the few townspeople that sturdily retained independence ofopinion on all matters, none stood higher than the surgeon, DoctorCarpy. And encountering Doubleday in the street shortly after theStone incident, he took it on himself to talk to him.
The doctor had his office at his home, but back of the prescriptioncase in his little drug store--no bigger than a minute--he had a smallroom for emergency consultations. To this he invited Doubleday, and,having ushered him in, seated him and closed the door, Carpy sat down:"There's few men, Barb, in this country," the doctor began, "that daretalk to you the way you ought to be talked to; of them few, I'mprobably the only one that would take the trouble. Your enemies won'ttalk and everybody friendly with you is afraid of you. You've got somuch property and stuff here they're plumb afraid of you. I'm a poorman, Barb--don't never expect to be anything else, and I don't give ahang for anybody," averred the erratic surgeon, "and nobody gives ahang for me."
Doubleday, chewing the stub of a cigar, eyed his medical adviser withan unsympathetic stare, but this in no way disturbed the self-appointedcritic. "For a long time now, Barb," he continued, "you've been in thenastiest kind of a fight on Jim Laramie. You've tried to run him offthe range and you tried to beat him out of his land and you've tried tobreak him. He's got the best land in the Falling Wall and he's in yourway. One time his wire is all pulled off his fence. Another time yourforeman pokes a gun into his stomach."
Doubleday flared up: "Am I the only man that Laramie's got differenceswith? When his fence is tore down, am I to blame? Am I to blame forevery drink Tom Stone takes? What are you talking about?" demandedDoubleday with violence.
The doctor could not have been calmer had he been reaching at thecritical moment of an operation for Doubleday's appendix. "Be patienta minute; be ca'm, Barb; I'll tell you what I'm talking about. I don'tknow who cut his wire. I don't know who done it and I won't undertaketo say, but what I do say to you, Barb, and I say it hard, you'remaking a big mistake on this man, and if you don't slow up it'll costyou your life yet."
Doubleday was grimly silent. "I've known Jim Laramie," Carpy went on,"since he was a boy. He's stubborn as a broncho if you try to ridehim. He's the easiest man in the world to get along with if you make afriend of him. No matter what's said of Jim Laramie there ain't acrooked hair in his head; but he's no angel and when his patiencequits--look out. What I'm going to tell you now, Barb, is on thesquare. It can't go no further. I tell you because you ought to know.A while back, just after this wire pulling, Jim Laramie walked intothis room, shut the door and locked it and sat down right where you'resittin' now. He told me the wire story; he told me he was through.He'd tracked the men to your ranch and was going to square accountswith you and Stone and Van Horn. He was on his way to the Junction andhe told me he might not come back and wanted to tell me how to disposeof his property. He was after you and he meant, before he fell down,to get some or all of you. He asked me where you were, because heheard I knew. I did know but I didn't tell him. I lied, Barb. I toldhim the mines, but I knew you were at the Junction. He started for themines. What happened to turn him off your trail I never yet learned.I never asked.
"Now you saw, or you heard anyway, what happened when Stone tried tokill him the other night. That man never can get Laramie. And don'tdepend on Stone and Van Horn to play you fair, for if they had to savetheir hides, Barb, they'd sell you. My advice is this: Put backLaramie's wire. Let the cattlemen, you and Pettigrew to lead 'em, doit to clear their own names. Say you know nothing about it, but it wasa dirty trick, and tell this town that cattlemen fight but they fightfair. It'll do more to set you right and to set everything else righton the range than anything else you could possibly do. And don't makea mistake. Laramie'll follow that wire pulling for years but whathe'll get the man that did it. I know him. He's got a memory like anIndian."
Like all well-meaning and candid friends, the doctor found himself atonce in for a deal of angry abuse, but, as he explained, he had takenso much abuse from patients at various periods of his career--and abusefully justified--that nothing Barb could add, deserved or undeserved,to the volume would move him: "As our old governor back in Wisconsinsaid, Barb, 'I seen my duty and I done it,'" was the doctor's onlyretort to Doubleday's wrath. "Now if you're in a hurry, Barb, don'tlet me keep you, not a minute. I had my say and if there's anythingpressing you down street go to it."
But angry as Doubleday appeared, Carpy had given him something to thinkabout. Consultations were held--by precisely whom, no one could say,but in them there was dissension. Van Horn vehemently opposed anyfurther overtures to Laramie and he was vastly put out at beingoverruled. While the discussions were going on, he talked in a veiledbut emphatic way to Kate about the queer way her father was acting.Van Horn would shake his head with violent emphasis at the way thingswere going. But when Kate poured oil on the waters of his discontent,Van Horn was always responsive and stayed to supper or for the evening,if he were asked--and Kate was alone. On the gentler side, however, hecould make no headway. When he tried headaches for sympathy, Kate wasstony hearted. When he asked her one day at the spring to take downher hair, she told him she wore a wig. He looked at her amazed.
And in spite of his objections to placating Laramie a decision veryunpalatable to him was reached. Pettigrew, as spokesman, approachedLaramie and insisted, in order to allay bad feeling, on replacing thebarb wire. When Laramie declared the wire must be put back by the menthat had cut it, there was naturally an _impasse_, but Tenison andCarpy aided jointly by the representations of Lefever and Sawdy,induced Laramie to forego his punitive attitude and accept the amendeas offered. This, as the doctor had predicted, put a pleasanter faceon the tangled affairs of the range. And to strike while their ironwas hot, and to keep it hot, the cattlemen announced a big Fourth ofJuly celebration, at which old scores should be forgotten and friendsand enemies meet in good-fellowship. The place for it, after muchtalk, was fixed at Doubleday's ranch. The saloon-keepers of SleepyCat, except Tenison, fought this, but they lost out.
Since her own home was to be the scene of the celebration, Kate took aparticular interest in the undertaking. She made herself, in a way,hostess and her father gave her free rein. The eager crowd thatresponded to the public invitation found awaiting them, as theypicturesquely rode in twos and threes and groups up the creek to theranch house, all the "fixin's" for a rousing celebration. Men came foras much as fifty miles and some of them by trails and over passes Katehad never even heard of. There were cattlemen, cowboys, sheepmen,little ranchers--all the conflicting elements of the country, besides acrowd from Sleepy Cat with the band, and all the town loafers thatcould possibly secure conveyance.
There was for these latter worthies the attraction of a free feed--forthey knew the prodigality of cattlemen; but there was also theunderlying hope that where so discordant elements were assembled afight _might_ occur; and nobody wanted to miss a fight. The principalsnecessary for a serious affair were present. The fact that all werearmed was not significant, merely prudent. Men careless on this pointwere no longer attending celebrations of any sort around Sleepy Cat.
From the Falling Wall came the rustlers, every one of them exceptDoubleday's old foreman, Abe Hawk, who scorned all pretense ofcompromise. He advised Laramie not to go near the celebration. W
henLaramie intimated he might go, Abe was greatly incensed. A master ofbitter sarcasm, he trained his batteries on his sandy-haired friend andthese failing he warned him he would be in serious danger. Heintimated that the scheme was to get the rustlers all together andfinish them in a bunch. In which event, one as hated as Laramie couldhardly hope to escape unmolested. But Laramie persisted in his resolveto go, and he went.
Doctor Carpy made it a point to go. He was usually neededprofessionally at Fourth of July celebrations. But on this occasion hewas, in matter of fact, a sort of sponsor for the whole affair and hebrought Sawdy, Lefever and Tenison along. The four drove out in thesmartest wagon and behind the best team in the Kitchen barn, Kitchenwith them and McAlpin driving.
By noon the big end of the crowd had arrived. The barbecue tables wereset out under the trees along the creek. The roasting itself was inthe skilled hand of John Frying Pan and before one o'clock he was readyto serve.
Doubleday had told Kate, when arranging for the tables, that hisparticular friends would sit at his table, and she was on her way downto the creek to ask him how many there would be in the party when whomshould she find him talking with, of all men, but Laramie, who had justridden over from the Falling Wall.
Before Kate could retreat, her father had seen her. He called herover. To her astonishment he insisted on introducing her to hisfriend, Jim Laramie, of whom he was making as much as it was possibleto make of a wholly undemonstrative man.
The band not far away was playing full tilt. Kate wished they couldhave made even more noise to hide her confusion, but there was nothingexcept to face the situation, much as it surprised her. Laramie,fortunately, seemed indisposed to say anything. He spent most of histime listening. Kate, being far from animated, her father was left todo the honors. And on such rare occasions as Barb was communicative,he was quite capable of good-fellowship.
Laramie, however, seemingly under some restraint, soon made excuses andleft to join the crowd.
Some of the little ranchmen had brought their wives along. A few ofthese women had their babies with them, and Kate returned to the house,where she made the mothers comfortable. There, her father afterwardsran across her. He stopped as he came up: "You remember that man Iintroduced you to--Laramie?"
"Very well," assented Kate, wondering.
"Treat him well at dinner."
"But I'm going to eat here at the house."
He shook his head: "You eat at the creek at my table."
She had no choice but to obey. When she returned to the pits thestones had been removed and John Frying Pan, with a pair of Sleepy Catice tongs, was lifting out the first big chunks of roasted meat. Thecrowd, being called, ran for the creek whooping and yelling, and whileKate watched John and his helpers dish up the meat, the guests--nearlyall men--seated themselves pell mell at the long benches. It was anoisy assemblage, overflowing with good-nature, and when Kate, verytrim in corduroy, appeared again at the tables the demonstrative onesrose and led in a burst of cheers. Kate enjoyed it but when they begancalling for a speech, she ran to join her father. She found him andold man Pettigrew at the table, Laramie calmly seated with them and thefourth place waiting for her.
Van Horn, as host to other cattlemen and guests, presided at the nexttable. Unluckily, where he sat, he could see Laramie opposite Kate.But if he was discomfited, the group at the next table below, whereDoctor Carpy presided, flanked by Lefever, Sawdy, Kitchen and McAlpin,was correspondingly elated at the spectacle of the Falling Wall and theCrazy Woman sitting in harmony.
Despite the unpleasant stories Kate had heard about him she foundnothing to complain of in Laramie's manners. But he was, she toldherself, on his good behavior, and under the circumstances wouldnaturally try to appear at his best. Little as she relished herassignment of making things pleasant for him, the friendly spirit ofthe occasion to some extent infected her, and soon she found it notdifficult to help along with small talk and make the queer combinationat the table go.
There was really no great need for her to work hard in this way--bothher father and Pettigrew were very lively. Laramie seemed a bit dazedat being set up with such honors in the house of his enemies. Butthough he did not volunteer much, when Kate said anything that affordeda chance for comment, he improved it.
The talk went a good deal to cattle, and range matters, but Pettigrew,a crafty fellow, told good stories about men that everybody in and outof Sleepy Cat knew, and appealed frequently to Laramie for confirmationor a laugh. Some of the laughs he got were a little dry but they werenot ill-natured, and Kate enjoyed the rough humor. The two cattlemenfinished their dinner, and without ceremony got up to see how the crowdwas being served, leaving Kate with Laramie. "How do you like oldPettigrew?" was the first thing Laramie asked as the bearded cattlemanmoved away with her father.
"The only thing I don't like about him," answered Kate candidly, "ishis eyes."
She was looking at Laramie as she spoke.
"You're a good observer," he said.
"How so?"
"A man's eyes are all there is to him. You don't mind if I smoke?"
"Not a bit."
He drew a sack of tobacco from a breast pocket.
"Not going to run away, are you?" He was fishing for cigarette paperwhen he asked. He spoke as if he had no special interest in thematter, yet the question startled her. Kate had not made a move to go,but she _was_ thinking, when the question came, of how she might manageto escape. She flushed a little at being anticipated in herintention--just enough perhaps to let him see he had caught her, not tosay irritated her. As luck would have it, Van Horn, who had risen,sauntered towards them. Kate was glad just then to see him: "I hopeyou got enough to eat," she said as he approached.
He seemed stiff--Kate did not realize what he was put out about. Hemade some answer and turned to Laramie. She felt at once the frictionbetween the two men, not from anything she had reason to suspect orknow--for she knew then nothing whatever of their personal relations.Nor was it from anything said; for an instant neither man spoke.Instinct must have made her conscious for as soon as Van Horn looked atLaramie she felt the tension: "Well, Jim, where'd you blow from?"demanded Van Horn after a pause.
Laramie was making ready to smoke. He was in no haste to answer, nordid he look at Van Horn, but continued, cowboy fashion, rolling hiscigarette in the finger-tips of one hand, his other hand resting on hiship: "I didn't blow," he retorted.
"How'd you get here?" asked Van Horn.
"I was invited."
Van Horn laughed significantly. While Kate would rather have been outof it, she thought it proper, since she was in it, to say somethingherself: "I didn't suppose anybody needed a special invitation for aFourth of July celebration," she interposed. "The town has beencovered for two weeks with bills inviting everybody."
Van Horn laughed again. "It wasn't you invited him, eh?" he demandedof Kate. The thing was said so unpleasantly she would have retorted onimpulse, but Laramie took any possible words out of her mouth.
"Why don't you ask me who invited me? Barb Doubleday invited me.That's enough, isn't it? And Pettigrew invited me. And," he added,completing his cigarette in leisurely fashion, "while that wouldn't beany particular inducement--you invited me."
Van Horn stared: "How do you make that out?" he asked quickly.
"You asked me to take in this barbecue when you tried to get me to lineup with you at the Mountain House."
Van Horn took alarm: "That was put up to you in confidence," he saidangrily.
"So was the barbecue," responded Laramie. "I wouldn't take in thefirst proposition, so I'm enjoying the second." He turned from VanHorn, and, ignoring him, spoke to Kate: "You remember you said you weregoing to show me your ponies."
It was Kate's turn to stare: "You must be mistaken."
He did not press the subject: "Perhaps you've forgotten," was all hesaid.
"When or where did I ever say that?" Kate asked, resenting theintimation.
br /> He looked down, then looking up his eyes rested on Kate's. He was notdisturbed: "Is that a challenge?" he asked.
"If you wish to make it one," she returned coolly.
"The 'where' was one day at Sleepy Cat Junction, the 'when' was the daywe rode up the Falling Wall river."
"Oh," she exclaimed, collecting herself, "I had forgotten."
"Do you remember now?" he asked; and she thought there was resentmentin the question. "If you don't," he added, "we'll let it go."
"Why, I suppose I must have said something like that. Anyway," sheadded, "we'll go see them to make sure I've kept a promise. Come, Mr.Van Horn," she suggested, turning sweetly to him, "don't you want tosee the ponies?" To include Van Horn, it was plain to be seen, wouldspoil the trip for Laramie, but she cared little for that. "Wait justa minute," she continued, "I must tell John Frying Pan before I go togive the Indians something to eat."
The feeling between the two men she left together flared up at once:"Does this mean you're going to hitch up with the cattlemen, afterall?" demanded Van Horn.
Laramie, who had lighted his cigarette, stood looking after Kate: "Ihitch up with nobody."
"Then don't spend your time hanging around Kate Doubleday."
"So that's where the shoe pinches?" Laramie threw away his cigaretteas he spoke. "I've taken a good deal from you, Van Horn."
Van Horn egged him on unabashed: "You've got your nerve with you toshow up here at all."
"A man needs his nerve, Van Horn, to do business with crooks like you."
Doubleday, passing near the two men at that moment, heard the lastexchange. He called out in his heavy, raspy voice to Van Horn: "Lookhere, Harry." Laramie walked away and Doubleday took Van Horn in hand:"You messed up things once with Laramie, didn't you? And you didn'tget him, did you?" continued Doubleday, choking off Van Horn's words:"Now we've got him here, let me run this thing."
"I can tell you right now you won't line him up," blurted out Van Horn,very angry.
Doubleday had a way of raising his chin to override objection; and hisvoice grew huskier with stubbornness: "Just let me run this thing, willyou?"
"Do as you please," retorted Van Horn, but with a stiff expletive thatirritated Barb still further. Then swinging on his heel, Van Hornmarched off. Barb was so incensed he could only keep his raised fingerpointed after Van Horn; and as his eyes blazed he shouted through avery fog of throat-scraping: "I will."