CHAPTER NINETEEN
In May and June each year the Eastern and Northern cattle buyers flockinto Arizona to procure "feeders" for their grass ranges in othersections. One, two and three-year old steers are then shipped to be heldon pasture and finally "topped" on grain in some Eastern centre, toprepare the animals for the Kansas City, Denver, Omaha or Chicagostockyards.
A number of fine steers had been gathered on the Hot Springs range, andwere being driven to Willcox to make part of a contract between aMontana buyer and the Diamond H and PL. The spring rains had beenabundant. Wild grasses rose to the height of a pony's knees; sleekHereford cattle browsed contentedly, while white-faced calves romped andraced between. Arizona was at its smiling best.
Powell, riding behind the herd while Limber directed a couple of Mexicanvaqueros, was satisfied that he had made no mistake in identifyinghimself with this country. The plans for the Sanitarium were maturingperfectly. Letters with suggestions and experience culled from the bestauthorities all over the continent, as well as European health resorts,were in each mail. Architects had submitted drafts and plans, from whichPowell was selecting the very best ideas.
Arrangements regarding the consolidation of the Diamond H work with thePL and Hot Springs herds had proven ideal, and the only unpleasantfeature Powell had encountered was embodied in his neighbour, Glendon.
Though the man's antagonism to the doctor had now reached a point ofopen animosity, Powell ignored it. Limber went frequently to the CircleCross, and old Chappo, making visits to Juan, managed to keep in touchwith Katherine. They all knew they were unable to do more than this,unless she should allow it, or some dire necessity force her to call onthem for help. Powell was compelled to keep entirely aloof from theCircle Cross, fearing to precipitate some disagreeable scene, shouldGlendon be in one of his aggressive moods. The doctor knew Glendon'stype well enough to understand that the brunt of such situation wouldfall with its full weight on the woman. He hoped that she did notmisinterpret his absence as due to indifference, since it was the onlyway he could help.
Limber dropped back of the herd and rode beside the doctor withoutspeaking. There were long intervals when these two were together thatneither spoke, yet each man knew the comradeship of the other. Thecattle were plodding along steadily and in the distance could be seenthe smoke of a train creeping like a rattlesnake across the flat betweenCochise and Willcox.
The cowboy threw his leg across the horn of his saddle, sitting sidewiseas he rolled a cigarette, which he proffered to Powell. Then making onefor himself, the two men smoked as they rode.
"Juan told me last night that he had found another dead calf up theriverbed, and poisoned it," said Limber. "Thar was fresh lion tracks. Hethinks it's the lion that was in the cave, but it ain't been thar sincethe day we found Mrs. Glendon and Donnie. It must of smelt our tracksand quit. Juan has been watchin' for it ever since I tole him about it."
"How much is the bounty?" asked Powell, puffing at his cigarette.
"Twenty-five dollars for a lion scalp," replied Limber. "I hope Juangets it. We've been having lots of calves killed this year. Mr. Traynorfiggers on puttin' a couple of men out trappin' and poisonin' them andthe coyotes. It'll pay to do it. We had to shoot two horses not longago, because their backs was broke."
"Do they fight at close quarters?" asked Powell. "The South Americanones are nasty things."
"Well, sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. Say, did any one evertell you about the time Hasayampa fit the mountain lion?"
"No, or I should not have forgotten it, I am sure," Powell smiled inanticipation.
Limber tossed away his dead cigarette, swung around in his saddle andbegan, "Hasayampa had a peculiar experience with a mountain-lion onct.You see, he was livin' in a one-room stone cabin down Aravaipa Canon allalone by hisself, exceptin' for an ol' brindle dog named Killem.Hasayampa allowed that Killem was a canine orphun asylum, because he wasrelated to near every dog between Willcox and the San Pedro. Killem'snose was bull-dog, his ears was collie, his tail looked something like apug's the way it tried to curl up in a doughnut. He had a brindle coatof hair that was sprinkled with white patches and them mixed with black.He sure done his best to bear a resemblance to every one of his familyconnections. He had been a dandy scrapper when he was young, but he wasso ol' he shed all his teeth, but his ki-yi was guaranteedindestructible. Hasayampa had trouble with a mountain-lion what wantedto make sociable calls, but was too bashful to come in daylight. Itformed a strong attachment for some pigs Bill was raisin', an' that lionadopted 'em on the installment plan, an' the ol' sow took on somethin'dreadful. So between the pigs squealin' and Killem ki-yiing, he waspretty near crazy. Hasayampa said he couldn't stand the lady pig'sgrief, so he killed her and then he guv Killem a good kick to make himshet up, and went back to bed.
"The cabin had one door an' a little winder. Hasayampa was lyin' on hisbunk with a candle stuck in a beer-bottle on a box longside him, rightunder the winder. Suddenly ol' Killem hopped right through the winderglass and landed plump on top of Hasayampa. He jumped up to kick Killemout, but before he done it, derned if that lion didn't come through thesame way, but he knocked over the box and put out the candle. ThenKillem and the lion started in for fust blood.
"Hasayampa's six-shooter had been knocked off'n the box and Hasayampamade a break fer the door--the room seemed a leetle bit crowded justthen--but the door was locked and the key somewhar on the floor. Hebegun scratching for that key.
"Just about this time the stovepipe got knocked down. Thar warn't mutchfire, but plenty of smoke. Next thing they hit the table whar he hadpiled up all the tin plates, cups and pans that he washed on Sundays.Hasayampa said the noise was somethin' fierce, for Killem was yellin','Pen and ink,' the lion was screechin' its head off, and both of 'emkickin' tin things in every direction.
"All this time Hasayampa was havin' troubles of his own. He was clawin'the floor, lookin' for the key or his six-shooter. He didn't care which,but he wanted one of 'em and he wanted it in a hurry, which wasn'tunreasonable noways, when you remember it was his own property he washuntin'. He finally got on his stomach and spun aroun' like a cartwheeland that was how he found his gun. Trustin' to luck he edged closer tothe noise and put his gun against somethin' and fired. Thar was a yelpfrom Killem, a screech from the lion, then somethin' flopped around onthe floor, but whether it was the lion or the dorg, was a conundrumHasayampa wasn't prepared to answer off hand.
"Things got quiet. He crawled careful till he found the candle and litit, holdin' his gun ready. Then he looked aroun'. Thar was Killemsettin' scrintched up in one corner of the room, a bullet hole throughone ear, but thar warn't no lion nowhar to be seen, and Hasayampafiggered he had shot Killem and the lion had gone out the winder, sameroute he took comin' in. Hasayampa did some tall cussin, and begunpickin' things up, when he seen the end of the lion's tail stickin' outunder the bunk. He backed off without losin' no time and shot under thebunk. The lion never even kicked.
"After he'd waited to be sure it was dead, Hasayampa hauled it out bythe tail, feelin' mighty big at such a shot in a dark room. Then hebegun to hunt to see whar the bullet went in. Thar was just one bullethole, and that was when he shot it under the bunk. He had missed it clarthe fust time, but that lion was as dead as a door-nail when he firedthe second shot, and Hasayampa knowed it."
Limber looked at Powell gravely, "Now don't that beat you?"
"But what happened?" demanded the Doctor. "Even Hasayampa must have hadsome theory about it."
"Well," drawled Limber, "ol' Injun George, wher he heerd about it saidhe had been puttin' pizen out, and findin' a half et pig had fixed upthe carcass for the lion, and he allowed the one that visited Hasayampahad made a meal of that pig. But Hasayampa always stuck to it that thelion had naturally died of heart disease and nervous prostration brungon by the excitement. Anyway, that's how Hasayampa Bill won the lionrecord in Arizona."
"He proved his right to spell the word both ways," grinned the doctor asL
imber reined Peanut toward the head of the herd.
They were approaching the outskirts of Willcox. Already their advent wasbeing heralded by hysterical yelps from innumerable dogs belonging tothe Mexican families who occupied shacks at the outskirts of the town.Each shack blazed with strings of dried, red chili peppers, whilecountless children grouped about each door, or the women gossipedvolubly.
The cattle were driven into the shipping corrals a short distance fromtown. The gates secured, Limber and Powell rode side by side up thedusty street to the Cowboys' Rest and left their horses in charge ofBuckboard.
Several other shipments were in town, being inspected according to ruleof precedent. The railroad company was frequently short of engines totransport the heavy trains of cattle, and it often happened that a bunchof stock was delayed a week or longer before starting for itsdestination. In such event, the cattle were held on the range near town,or in some fenced pasture close at hand which was rented for the timenecessary.
Limber had put in his order so as to insure the right of way when thecattle from the Hot Springs and Diamond H should arrive in town. He wasanxious to ascertain whether they could load out that afternoon or not.The foreman and Doctor Powell walked up the main street together,stopping to speak to other cowmen, many of whom had not before met thenew owner of the Hot Springs and PL ranches.
Bronco, Holy and Roarer spied and welcomed them vociferously, and Limberwas informed that the Diamond H cattle were on a pasture, half a milefrom town. The Inspector would be ready to handle their shipment rightafter lunch, as the cars and engine would be on time for them.
"I'll stop for the mail," suggested Powell as they passed thepost-office, and suiting the action to the words he turned in the store,while the others continued their way to the Chinese restaurant.
They were about to enter, when Walton, carrying an old-fashioned carpetgrip hurried through the door.
"Hello, Walton," was Limber's casual greeting.
Walton, seeing them, stopped short and regarded the group with an angrystare, then without replying, he rushed across the street to therailroad station, where the east-bound train was puffing.
"Seems in a hurry," commented Limber as they watched Walton climb aboardthe train.
"Mebbe he's goin' to get married," grinned Bronco, "and he's scairt forfear somethin' will happen to them whiskers again."
Walton's face appeared at one of the windows of the day-coach. As thetrain puffed past the men, his eyes rested on them in mingled triumphand malice.
"Hump!" grunted Holy, "Looks like he'd just drawed four aces!"
"Well, I'm glad the country is shet of him," piped Roarer as they metDoctor Powell and imparted the item of news to him.
Powell handed a letter to Limber. The pencil writing was crude and thesheet of paper bore an enormous, brilliant red rose across one corner.The eyes of the other cowpunchers focused on that rose, as the letterhad been folded backward.
"Looks like a love-letter," insinuated Bronco. "Say, Limber ain't thataddressed to Holy? He's the only one of the outfit that writes lettersto ladies, you know."
"It's been in the post-office a week," commented Limber, and they drewcloser as he read aloud:
_Dere Limber_--I seen Walton puttin' the Diamond H on a Lazy F calf and I give him a week to quit the country. He sold out to a fellow from Douglas, so I guess there won't be no more trouble from him. It wood be hard to make a case that would stick against him, because he wasn't branding the calves for himself. He's a little off his cabazza, and them green whiskers stuck in his craw. My regards to the Boss and the boys.
Yours truly,
BILLY SAUNDERS.
Range Detective for the Live Stock Sanitary Board.
"That's why he was in sech a hurry to get that train. He must of thoughtwe knowed about it;" said Limber. "Well, he won't bother us no more." Asthey all entered the restaurant, Limber spoke to Powell, "Theinspector'll be ready for us right after lunch."
They were shown a table near the front of the room, which waswell-filled with a typical frontier mixture of humanity. Cowpunchers,miners, clerks and storekeepers, a couple of commercial travellers, andan Army officer in uniform, accompanied by his wife and two children,who had evidently just arrived on the train from California.
In a corner at the rear end of the room sat Glendon with a cowboy whosemutilated hand had won the name of Three-fingered Jack. They weretalking earnestly in guarded tones. Glendon's back was toward theentrance of the place, but Jack, who was classed as a "gunman," becauseof his expert marksmanship, scrutinized the newcomers sharply.
"Who is that with the Diamond H outfit?" he asked.
Glendon twisted slightly, took a swift glance, scowled and leaned overto his companion.
"That's Powell, damn him! Bought the Hot Springs and PL herd and ranchand is going to put up a sanitarium for tubercular children. Limberstays with him most of the time, and puts in the rest of it at theDiamond H, so you never know when you're going to run into them. It'seasy to pull the wool over a tenderfoot, but Limber is anotherproposition. If there's any trouble, the whole country will side withLimber. He's as sharp as they make em, and every one knows he's sodamned straight that he leans backward. That doctor is no fool, either."
Three-fingered Jack shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and smiledinto the other man's face. Both had been drinking heavily. The smile wasa studied insult. Glendon did not notice it.
"Losing your nerve, Glen? I'll give that pill-pusher a little scare foryou, and I bet when I get done with him he'll look like a cake of soapin a Chinese laundry after a big day's washing."
Glendon hesitated. "We'd better steer clear of them. It won't do tohave any trouble now. It would ball things up for us."
"I'll keep away from Limber," promised Jack, now obsessed with one idea;"but it won't take anything except a good bluff for the tenderfoot."
"That Diamond H is mixing into everything," growled Glendon. "If ithadn't been for Traynor, King never would have patented that land andthe will wouldn't have been worth the paper it was written on. I've hungout at the Circle Cross all these years expecting to get hold of the HotSprings, but thanks to Traynor and Powell, I got left in the end. Badenough when King was alive, shutting me off from the water, but nowPowell is stocking up the range and it's going to knock me into a cockedhat. There's bound to be trouble between Powell and me before very long.I'm not going to put up with his prowling around watching things outthere."
"What the devil do you care for the half a dozen calves he may keep youfrom rustling?" jeered Jack. "You've got a heap bigger thing ahead ofyou, if you just keep your shirt on a bit longer. Then you can quit thecountry for good. But, it won't be safe for us to come out there now,Glen. Better meet somewhere else."
"All right," assented Glendon, with a shrug. "You tell Panchita anytimeyou want me, and she'll get word to me."
They made their way rather unsteadily from the long room, unhitchedtheir ponies and rode toward the corral conversing earnestly in lowtones.
Half an hour later, Powell and the boys of the Diamond H reached thecorrals where their entire shipment now was enclosed. Bronco remaineddown in the narrow chute, while the rest, after tying their ponies tothe corral fence, climbed up and perched on the topmost rail.
Powell looked down on a mass of surging horns, his ears assaulted bydeafening bellows. The inspector sat above a narrow passageway in whicha draft of five cattle was driven, then the bar dropped and parted themfrom the other animals. As these five cows passed toward the car intowhich they were to be loaded, Bronco called the brand and ear-marks tothe inspector, who recorded them. Then the cow was given a slight shoveto accelerate its movements into the open door of the car. If ithesitated, it was not long, for only a creature of iron could withstandthe fierce prodding in the ribs with sharp wooden poles, and the wildyells would make an Apache war-whoop sound a whisper of first love.
While the men worked, Limber, seated beside Pow
ell explained the systemof territorial inspection, and that at each shipping point an inspectorwas stationed to report officially on every brand and ear-mark of cattleoffered for shipment. Each brand was registered with the Live StockSanitary Board at Phoenix, and reports forwarded immediately after anyshipment, stating the owner of each animal, brand, ear-mark, shipper incharge, buyer, consigner and consignee. A certificate of health was alsorequired, and without such official authority from the inspector norailroad company was permitted to move any live stock over its road. Theshipper in charge, was also compelled to have copies. In addition tothese duties, the inspector was authorized to collect and forward anyamounts received for stray cattle, whose owners were not present orrepresented by an agent. Where a brand was found not officiallyregistered, such animal was sold by the inspector and proceeds remittedto the board. This was given any claimant who could satisfactorilyexplain negligence to record the brand, and prove beyond doubt hisownership.
Limber, sitting beside Powell on the corral fence, explained these lawswhile they watched the inspection.
"Some of the brands are very indistinct," said Powell. "In case there isdoubt, how is it decided?"
"Inspector clips the hair over the brand with horse-clippers, and ifthat don't settle it, he sells the animal to the local butcher. You see,when the hide is fresh from a cow, the first brand shows out theplainest, even if another is run over afterwards. Sometimes a brand isregistered what gives a feller the chance to alter another. There was,one man ran O Bar O," Limber drew an imaginary brand on the palm of hisleft hand, O-O. "Afterward they found the Crooked H, O-C, the JH and theD O could be changed to the O-O and work the three biggest herds in thesection. The fellow was honest, never aimed to do no dirty work, but thebrand was stopped by order of the Live Stock Sanitary Board."
The fresh draft, headed by a large cow, was driven into the chute.
"This brand's been monkeyed with," Holy called up to the inspector, whosat on an elevated platform just above the chute.
There was craning of necks as each one studied the animal, for analtered brand was the business of every cowman in the Territory.
"What is it?" demanded the inspector.
"She looks more like an inspection certificate than a cow," was theanswer. "Jumping Jehosaphat! Did you ever see such a mix-up? There's a BD looks like it's been changed from a P L; an' ol' Mule Shoe QuarterCircle on her side, one ear's slit an' the other's a jinglebob. Hold on,there's something on the other side."
Continuing his examination he moved around the animal and ejaculated insurprise; "Damned if here ain't a fresh Circle Cross. What d'ye knowabout that, Glendon?"
Every one looked at Glendon, who sat at Limber's left side on therailing. But before he could reply, Paddy Lafferty jumped into thecorral chute and stooping down studied the cow's front legs, then hestraightened up and spoke.
"Oi don't give a dum what brand she carries, that cow is moine. She runsover the Hot Springs range. Oi'd know the ould haythin anywheres becaseshe got cut by barbed-wire and I docthered her, and she give me thedivvle of a toime when I was doin' it, be jabers! There's the marks ofthe woire-cuts on her fore ankles. That brand's been burnt since I soldthe PL herd to Doctor Powell."
"That's a lie!" shouted Glendon. "I bought her four months ago from aMexican on the San Pedro. The B D is his brand. He had ten cows and soldthem all to me before he went back to Mexico."
Paddy looked coolly into Glendon's bloodshot eyes. "Yez must hev laidawake noights fixin' up that loi," he sneered, keeping a close watch onGlendon's right hand. "Oi giss the inspecther hed betther take charge ofher and sittle the matther. But it stroikes me that B D is a moightyquare brand for a Greaser to be running."
"As long as the cow has a P L," spoke Powell suddenly, "I suppose itgives me a voice in the matter also?"
The inspector nodded confirmation, and Powell went on, "Let theinspector take charge, as Paddy suggested. I don't want any animal on myrange that carries a disputed brand. If the cow belongs to me, I wanther shipped or slaughtered, and all possible disputes about her ended."
"Ship her," ordered the inspector. "I'll look up that B D brand, and ifit is not registered the proceeds of sale will be forwarded to DoctorPowell. If it is registered, and the Greaser has left, as Glendonclaims, it is up to Glendon to prove ownership by bill of sale from theGreaser."
"'Tain't the furst toime your brand has got on one of my cows, Glen;"asserted Paddy hotly. "Oi sold my brand and herd clane and straight toDocther Powell, and Oi'll sthand boy that sale to the last critter."
Glendon's hand slipped back a few inches, but Limber, sitting besidehim, saw the movement and gripped his wrist in a steel clutch. It wasdone so quickly and quietly that no one but Paddy saw it, or heardLimber say, "Don't be such a fool, Glen. Killin' people don't change thelaws of the Territory."
"If ever I catch that Greaser, I'll make him sweat blood," blusteredGlendon.
Paddy mounted the fence, settled himself, then filled his corn-cob pipe,lighted it deliberately and took a deep puff before he remarked with agrim smile, "Oi'll hilp yez do it, Glendon--when yez catch him!"
His wrinkled, gnarled hand smoothed the leg of his overalls, which hadoriginally been the orthodox blue of all self-respecting overalls, butlong since had succumbed to Paddy's washtub and vigorous muscles. Belowthe edges of these anemic patched garments, loomed one old boot and oneshoe, laced crookedly with a piece of rawhide.
The hand ceased its caressing movement, and Paddy squinted up again atGlendon, "Don't yez be afther fergittin', Glendon, whin yez catch himI'll take a hand at him--wid yez."