CHAPTER XXXII
_Politics_
The week following Lorry's departure the Westons left for the East. Asfor Dorothy, she confessed to herself that she was not sorry. WhileAlice had been unusually nice to every one, Dorothy felt that Alice wasforcing herself to appear natural and happy. Mrs. Weston knew this, andwondered what the cause could be. Mrs. Weston had found Dorothydelightful and Bronson interesting, but she had been so long in the Westthat its novelty had worn thin. She did not regret it when they shippedtheir machine from Stacey and took the Overland for New York.
A few days after they had gone, Bud Shoop rode up to the Blue Mesa. Itwas evident that he wanted to talk with Bronson, so Dorothy coaxedBondsman to her favorite tree, and sat stroking his shaggy head as sheread from a new book that Shoop had brought with the mail.
The genial Bud was in a fix. Perhaps Bronson, who had been a newspaperman and knew something about politics, could help him out. Bronsondisclaimed any special keenness of political intelligence, but said hewould be glad to do anything he could for Shoop.
"It's like this," Bud began, seating himself on the edge of theveranda; "John Torrance, who was supervisor before you came in, got methis job and put it up to me to stick. Now, I like John, and I figureJohn ain't scared of me. But here's where I lose the trail. A olefriend, the biggest shipper of sheep in this State, goes and gets itinto his head that they's a State Senator over there drawin' down paythat ought to come to me. Recollec', I said he was a sheepman--and Ibeen for the longhorns all my days. And he's got the nerve to tell methat all the sheepmen in this here county are strong for me if I run forthe job. If I didn't know him like I know this here right hand, I wouldsay he was gettin' hardenin' of the brain in his ole aige. But he's along ways from havin' his head examined yet.
"Then along comes a representative of the Cattlemen's Association andsays they want me to run for State Senator. Then along comes a committeeof hay-tossers from up around St. Johns and says, polite, that they arewaitin' my pleasure in the matter of framin' up their ticket forsenatorial candidate from this mesa country. They say that the presentencumbrance in the senatorial chair is such a dog-gone thief that hesteals from hisself just to keep in practice. I don't say so. 'Course,if I can get to a chair that looks big and easy, without stompin' onanybody--why, I'm like to set down. But if I can't, I figure to setwhere I be.
"Now, this here war talk is gettin' folks excited. And ridin'excitement down the trail of politics is like tryin' to ride whitelightnin' bareback. It's like to leave you so your friends can't tellwhat you looked like. And somebody that ain't got brains enough to plugthe hole in a watch-key has been talkin' around that Bud Shoop is afighter, with a record for gettin' what he goes after. And that thissame Bud Shoop is as honest as the day is long. Now, I've seen somemighty short days when I was tradin' hosses. And then this here stingin'lizard goes to work and digs up my deputy number over to Sterling andsets the papers to printin' as how it was me, with the help of a fewparties whose names are of no special int'rest, settled that strike."
"So you were at Sterling?"
"Uh-uh. Between you and me, I was. And it wa'n't what you'd call agirl's school for boys, neither. But that's done. What I'm gettin' atis: If I resign here, after givin' my word to Torrance to stick, itlooks like I been playin' with one hand under the table. The papers willlie like hell boostin' me, and if I don't lie like hell, boostin'myself, folks'll think I'm a liar, anyhow. Now, takin' such folks one ata time, out back of the store, mebby, where they ain't no wimmin-folks,I reckon I could make 'em think different. But I can't lick the county.I ain't no angel. I never found that tellin' the truth kep' me awakenights. And I sleep pretty good. Now, I writ to Torrance, tellin' himjust how things was headed. What do you think he writ back?"
"Why, he told you to go ahead and win, didn't he?"
"Yep. And he said that it was apparent that the State needed my servicesmore than the Service did. That's somethin' like a train with a engineon each end. You don't know which way it's headed."
"I'd take it as a sincere compliment."
"Well, I did swell up some. Then I says to myself: 'Bud, you ain't nofancy office man, and even if you are doin' good work here, you can'tput it in writin' for them big bugs at Washington.' Mebby John is sodog-gone busy--like the fella with both bands full and his suspendersbroke--- that he'd be glad to get behind 'most anything to get shut ofme."
"I think you're mistaken. You know you can't keep a born politician outof politics."
"Meanin' me?"
"You're the type."
"By gravy, Bronson! I never seen you hidin' your watch when I come up tovisit you before."
"See here, Shoop. Why don't you write to Torrance and ask himpoint-blank if he has had a hand in getting you nominated for Senator?Torrance is a big man in his line, and he probably knows what he isdoing."
Shoop grinned. "You win the pot!" he exclaimed. "That's just what I beenthinkin' right along. I kind of wanted somebody who wasn't interested inthis deal to say it. Well, I reckon I bothered you long enough. You gotyour alfalfa to--I--you got your writin' to do. But they's one thing. IfI get roped in and got to run, and some new supervisor comes botherin'around up here, puttin' some ranger in my camp that ain't like Lorry,all you got to do is to move over into my cabin and tell 'em to keep offthe grass. That there four hundred and eighty is mine. I homesteaded it,and I got the papers. It ain't on the reserve."
"I thought it was."
"So do some yet. Nope. I'm just east of the reservation line; outsidethe reserve. I aimed to know what I was doin' when I homesteaded thatpiece of sky farm."
"And yet you took exception to my calling you a born politician."
Shoop chuckled. "Speakin' personal, I been thinkin' about that job ofState Senator for quite a spell. Now, I reckon you got sense enough notto get mad when I tell you that I just been tryin' out a little speech Iframed up for my constituents. Just a kind of little alfalfa-seed talk.Outside of ijuts and Mexicans, it's about what I aim to hand to thevoters of this here district, puttin' it up to them that I was ropedinto this hocus and been settin' back on the rope right along. Andthat's a fact. But you got to rub some folks' noses in a fact afore theycan even smell it."
"And you have the nerve to tell me that you framed up all that stuff toget my sympathy? Shoop, you are wasting time in Arizona. Go East. Andforgive me for falling for your most natural appeal."
The genial Bud chuckled and wiped his eyes. "But it's true from thestart to the wire."
"I must congratulate you." And, "Dorothy!" called Bronson. "Come andshake hands with our next Senator from the mesa country."
"Really?" exclaimed Dorothy. "But we will lose our supervisor. Still, Ithink Mr. Shoop will make a lovely Senator. You are just the rightsize--and--everything."
"I reckon you're right, missy. Half of the game is lookin' the partafore election. The other half is not sayin' too much after election. Ifany man gets a promise out of me afore election, it'll have to be didwith a stump-puller."
"But we won't see you any more," said Dorothy. "You will be so busy andso important. Senator Shoop will speak here. And Senator Shoop willspeak there. And--let me see! Oh, yes! The Senate adjourned after astormy session in which the Senator from Mesa County, supported by anintelligent majority, passed his bill for the appropriation of twentythousand dollars to build a road from Jason to the Blue Mesa. What fun!"
Bud polished his bald head. "Now, I reckon that ain't such a joke. We'llbuild a road plumb through to the old Apache Trail and ketch themtourists goin' into Phoenix."
"You see," said Dorothy, turning to her father, "I know something aboutpolitics. I read the local papers. Mr. Shoop's name is in every one ofthem. I read that article about the Sterling strike. I have beenwondering--"
Shoop immediately called attention to Bondsman, who was gently tuggingat the supervisor's pants leg.
"Now, look at that! Do you know what he's tellin' me? He's tellin' me Igot a piano in that there cabin and we ain't had
a duet for quite aspell. That there dog bosses me around somethin' scandalous."
Bondsman slipped from beneath Dorothy's hand as she stooped to pat him.He trotted to Shoop's cabin, and stood looking up at the door.
"Would you be playin' 'Annie Laurie' for us?" queried Shoop.
Dorothy played for them, unaccompanied by Bondsman. Shoop shook hishead. Either the tune had lost its charm for the Airedale or elseDorothy's interpretation differed from Bud's own.
"Thanks, missy," said Shoop when she had finished playing. "Guess I'llbe movin' along."
"Oh, no! You'll stay to-night. I'll play for you. Make him stay,father."
"I wish you would, Shoop. I'd like to talk with you about the election."
"Well, now, that's right neighborly of you folks. I was aimin' to rideback this evening. But I reckon we'll stay. Bondsman and me ain't sospry as we was."
After supper Dorothy played for them again, with no light except thedancing red shadows from the pine logs that flamed in the fireplace.
Shoop thanked her. "I'll be livin' in town,"--and he sighedheavily,--"where my kind of piano-playin' would bring the law on me,most-like. Now, that ole piano is hacked up some outside, but she's gotall her innards yet and her heart's right. If you would be takin' it asa kind of birthday present, it's yours."
"You don't mean _me_?"
"I sure do."
"But I couldn't accept such a big present. And then, when we go awaythis winter--"
"Listen to your Uncle Bud, missy. A little lady give me a watch onct. 'Twa'n't a big watch, but it was a big thing. 'Cause why? 'Cause thatlittle lady was the first lady to give me a present in my life. I wasraised up by men-folks. My mammy she wa'n't there long after I come.Reckon that's why I never was much of a hand with wimmin-folks. I wa'n'tused to 'em. And I don't care how old and ornery a man is; the firsttime he gets a present from a gal, it kind of hits him where hebreathes. And if it don't make him feel warm inside and mighty proud ofbein' who he is, why, it's because he's so dog-gone old he can't think.I ain't tellin' no secret when I say that the little lady put her namein that watch alongside of mine. And her name bein' there is what makesthat present a big thing--bigger than any piano that was ever built.
"Why, just a spell ago I was settin' in my office, madder'n a cat whathad tore his Sunday pants, 'cause at twelve o'clock I was goin' over tothe saloon to fire that young ranger, Lusk, for gettin' drunk. I pulledout this here watch, and I says to myself: 'Bud, it was clost aroundtwelve o'clock by a young fella's watch onct when he was filled up onliquor and rampin' round town when he ought to been to work. And it wasthe ole foreman's gal that begged that boy's job back for him, askin'her daddy to give him another chanct.' And the boy he come through allright. I know--for I owned the watch. And so I give Lusk anotherchanct."
Dorothy stepped to Shoop's chair, and, stooping quickly, kissed hischeek. Bondsman, not to be outdone, leaped jealously into Bud's lap andlicked the supervisor's face. Shoop spluttered, and thrust Bondsmandown.
"Things is comin' too fast!" he cried, wiping his face. "I was justgoin' to say something when that dog just up and took the words rightout of my mouth. Oh, yes! I was just wishin' I owned a piano factory."