The Long Dim Trail

  CHAPTER TWO

  The cattle that Powell and Traynor had watched starting from the DiamondH, constituted the first shipment of the season, contracted to anEastern buyer. Official inspection by the Live Stock Sanitary Board wasexacted, not only regarding the health of shipped cattle, but also toprotect cattlemen from rustlers on the miles of open range.

  After reaching Willcox, the boys of the Diamond H drove the herd intothe shipping pens beside the railroad track, locked the gates and turnedwith joyous expectation toward the main street of town. Limber partedfrom the others a short distance from the corrals.

  "I'll tell the inspector we'll be ready tomorrow mornin' soon as thecars get in," he said, and without waiting reply rode toward the part oftown where the more pretentious houses were bunched.

  Like schoolboys out for a holiday, Bronco, Holy and Roarer raced theirponies to the Cowboys' Rest Corral. Here they were greeted vociferouslyby Buckboard Bill, who had retired from driving a skeleton stage andestablished the only place where horses or vehicles might be hired.

  A few minutes elapsed before the three cowpunchers, afoot, made theirway along the street. Ponies standing with dangling reins and hoofsburied fetlock deep in the fine, white alkali sand in front of thestores, told that many other cowpunchers from other ranches were intown. The Diamond H boys quickly identified the owner of each pony byits brand.

  A row of irregular buildings, consisting of three stores, a Chineserestaurant, several saloons and a hotel, formed the principal street ofWillcox. Facing the stores across the dusty expanse, lay the SouthernPacific depot which was the heart of the town, while radiating from iteast and west, like great arteries, ran the steel tracks of therailroad. Pack burros, loaded with miners' supplies, shuffled out on theroad to Dos Cabezas. Many of these tiny animals were animatedwoodpiles--only legs and wagging ears visible from beneath a canopy ofsplit wood destined for a camp where fuel was not procurable, otherwise.The only break in the grey monotone of the landscape was the fewcottonwood trees, planted by optimistic souls around their dwellingplaces.

  It was a typical frontier town of three hundred people, two-thirds ofwhom were Mexicans speaking no English. If, by chance, a strangeralighted from the "passenger" train, the arrival of which was the mostimportant event of each day, the town, like a naughty child with dirtyface and torn clothes, looked the new-comer over critically. If he metthe inspection squarely, it held out a friendly hand, and as long as he"played fair" that hand was ready to fight for him and his.

  The boys from the Diamond H sauntered leisurely along the street,exchanging greetings with those they knew, until, under their usualpretext of expecting mail, they reached the combination store andpost-office. It was an important duty to ascertain beyond doubt whetherany letters were waiting to be claimed by Peter N. Hewland, DickReynolds and Henry Jackson, who were thus able to keep their legalidentification. At all other times they were known as Bronco Pete, HolyDick, whose vocabulary of cuss-words held the Arizona record, andHell-roarer Jack, with a gentle falsetto voice which under stress ofemotion became a tiny squeak. Convenience had curtailed these names toBronc, Holy and Roarer.

  Having digested the information that no mail awaited them, they enteredinto conversation. One could learn the news of territory, county andnation in the post-office, besides ascertaining what outfits were intown. Additional attractions were found in the posters to be read,notices of round-up work, advertisements of stolen horses or straycattle.

  It was while browsing on such literature that Bronco halted with mouthhalf-open and disbelieving eyes. He read the hand-written noticedeliberately to the end twice before he turned to where Roarer and Holywere inspecting silver-mounted spurs--which they did not need, butintended to buy because they had to spend their money someway.

  "Say, boys, thar's goin' to be a ice-cream festival tonight!"

  "Shucks!" squeaked Roarer. "Try something else, Bronc. You all know thatthar ain't no ice any nearer than Tucson. And nobody's fool enough tosend ninety miles and pay cut-throat rates for ice just to makeice-cream, except a regular ijit."

  The grin on Roarer's face and the faces of other by-standers recalledBronco's exploit of ordering ice from Tucson, and reaching the Diamond Hwith nothing but a wet blanket in the wagon.

  Succumbing to the alluring display in a mail order catalogue, Bronco hadbought an ice-cream freezer, declaring he was going to get filled up onthat delicacy for once in his life--if it took three months' pay. Theepisode became historic, and the freezer kindling wood.

  "If you don't believe me," challenged Bronco, "come and see foryourself! What's more, it says here, it's goin' to be free with cakethrowed in," he finished triumphantly.

  Holy edged beside Bronco and peered over his shoulder. "Derned if itain't so," he acknowledged at last. "But, mebbe that air paper's lyin'."

  "What do you think of that?" ruminated Bronco, his mouth watering inanticipation. "Ice-cream--and cake throwed in free gratis for nothin'.Looks like some one's struck it rich--turnin' all that loose on therange for everybody to corral."

  "I don't believe it," gloomily asserted Holy, who had acted as escortfor Bronco and the ice that failed. "You can't get ice from Tucson so'sthar'd be anything left unless you order a whole carload at onct."

  "Well," retorted Bronco in self-defence, "it depends on who's cartin'the ice. You would keep on cussin' all the way to the ranch that time,Holy, an it's no wonder the ice was all melted up. But, this yer ice isgoin' to be in the church and won't have its constitution tried sohard."

  Holy and Roarer looked at each other uncertainly. They hungered for thatice-cream and cake; but the necessity of treading consecrated boardfloors made the matter serious.

  "I wonder if you've got to have 'em deal you a ticket if you don'tbelong in the pasture?" speculated Bronco, unable to tear himself fromthe vicinity of the poster. "Say, Larry," he called to the store-keeper,"how about this here ice-scream layout? Is it a bluff, or sure enoughfree-for-all?"

  "Sure enough," answered Larry. "There's a new minister come to town andthe women-folks have pitched in and fixed this up so he can getacquainted with people. You boys had better take it in. Every one'sgoing to be there. We're shutting up the stores at seven o'clocktonight, so everybody can go."

  "Say, Larry, did they sure enough get the ice here all right?"questioned Holy doubtfully.

  "They sure did! And that ice-cream and cake is way up in G. Home-made,every bit of it. What's more, the ladies went to the saloon-keepers andgot them all to promise to shut up the saloons from seven till eleventonight. So every one's got to go to the Festival or else go home tobed."

  "I guess we're headed for the ice-scream, boys;" announced Bronco, andthe others nodded acquiescence.

  They filed out of the store and, after registering on the empty page ofthe hotel book, received a key and mounted the protesting stairs thatascended outside the hotel to the upper rooms.

  While they were engaged in splashing soapy water over faces and hands,brushing dusty coats and plastering down anarchistic locks, Limberjoined them and was informed of the evening plans.

  "Well, I'll see you over there," he promised. "I'm goin' to supper now.Then I've got to have a talk with Paddy Lafferty and find out what he'sholdin' his herd at."

  He reached the door, paused and looked back quizzically. "I reckon youboys'll be all right tonight, seein' as how you'll all be in church. Solong."

  After supper the three cowboys joined a stream of people moving towardthe church, where open doors emitted rays of welcoming light. It was amedley of humanity possible only in a frontier town. Women hadresurrected dresses more or less old in style, from the depths ofswaddling sheets necessary to keep them from the dust of sandstormspenetrating chests and trunks. Husbands, whose "best suits" smelled ofcamphor, helped shoo small girls in stiffly starched white dresses, tiedwith varied-coloured sashes, and boys who twisted and squirmed uneasilyunder the galling yoke of white collars and shirts.

  Fortified with promises of ice-cream and ca
ke, the youngsters weredistributed on a double row of chairs back of the minister and facingthe audience, where they had a full view of the other victims. Manyminers had wandered into town for their usual Saturday-night and Sundayrecreation, only to face the unprecedented situation of the closedstores and saloons--learning that there was no "balm in Gilead" fromseven till eleven, for the first time on record in the Territory, theyheaded voluntarily for the church. Mexicans, whose own Catholic churchwas only opened twice a year, when the Padre came to marry and baptizewholesale--and frequently married the parents when he baptized theinfant--rubbed elbows with clerks from the stores, bartenders andprospectors.

  Holy, Bronco and Roarer, with amiable, though uneasy grins, faced thepretty school-teacher, Miss Gordon, a recent importation from SanFrancisco. She smiled sweetly at them and held out a small, white hand,which Bronco took hold of as gingerly as though it were a hotbranding-iron, and let it drop as quickly. Holy, not to be outdone,extended his own horny hand, but Miss Gordon said, "I have to ask foryour pistols, please, until you are ready to go. There are so manypeople here tonight we had to make this rule."

  In consternation that was almost paralysis, they stared at heroutstretched hand, then looked at her wheedling smile. Reluctantly,half-bewildered, each man slowly drew his beloved gun from the holsterin which it reposed, and helpless, watched her add it to the stack on atable behind her. Then they looked at each other forlornly. Still underthe influence of that dazzling smile, they made no resistance as MissGordon drove them forward. They were as embarrassed as though strippedof more conventional apparel than six-shooters, but they hoped thecontortions of their faces might be classed as happy smiles when theysaw they were expected to shake hands with the long, rigid line of theCommittee of Ladies which flanked the minister.

  As Limber entered the church, he saw his outfit run the gauntlet ofintroductions, then they turned precipitately with relieved countenancesand slipped into chairs at the centre of the room. Bronco advised thislocation. "Ice-cream might give out if we get too fur back. Thar's a lotof people here tonight."

  A program followed in which the school children sang a song, pitched inas many keys as there were voices. A recitation by a boy of fourteen,starting in a megaphone voice, and after the fifth line lapsing into awhisper, a gasp, silence--a bobbing head--and ending in hasty exit.

  Next a five-year old carefully starched youngster galloped breathlesslywithout a pause through a couple of verses, exploiting her knowledgethat she knew the audience would be surprised that "one my age shouldspeak in public on the stage." The applause had hardly died when a buxomlady with white kid slippers three sizes too small, appropriated thepiano. She arranged her toes on the pedals, then wiggled her feet untilthe heels slid out. An expression of beatitude adorned her face, herchubby hands were lifted and came down on the tinkling keys.

  The assaulted, helpless piano responded with the familiar "Maiden'sPrayer," while an apparition in a white lace curtain materialized at theback door of the room, flopping and twisting toward the spell-boundspectators. The number had been announced as an "Interpretative dance,"and Holy whispered cautiously to Bronco, "Is it an Apache dance, or hasshe just tooken carbolic acid?"

  "Search me," was the response. "Looks like a mixture of both of 'em."

  The dancer was agile and angular. She had the distinction of being theonly old maid in the county. Her bare, thin arms waved, gyrated,supplicated; her knees cracked audibly several times, but her mind wasfar away. She was mentally repeating the instructions she had studied socarefully from a book entitled, "The Art of Classic Dancing without aTeacher." Then with a last squirm, a convulsive shudder, she flopped tothe floor, and ended the agony with one or two feeble kicks.

  "It was a fit!" decided Bronco. "But it's the wust one I ever seedanything have."

  The last number on the program was a little, weazened man with brilliantred hair, lighter red beard, faded blue eyes, who had brought a smalltalking machine. With stupendous dignity he wound it up, then stood witha new record ready to immediately replace the one being scratched out bythe needle. The pile of records was formidable and he was apparentlydetermined to skip none, until the head committee lady gently, butfirmly and diplomatically, came to the rescue.

  He bowed his appreciation of the tumulutous applause, assuming it wasintended for him. It continued unabated. He opened his mouth wide, toexpress his gratification at the ovation accorded. The muscles of hisface twitched, his eyes stared wildly and as the audience leaned forwardanxiously, a terrific sneeze smote the air and a set of false teethcatapulted like a meteor in the midst of the audience.

  A suppressed titter, a bobbing of bodies in the vicinity of the teeth,and then one of the children, groping on the floor, located the lostproperty and rose with a triumphant squeal.

  "I got 'em!"

  The red-haired individual grasped the rescued property with a smile thatproved Nature may abhor a vacuum but sometimes permits it to exist. Theowner of the touring teeth surveyed them, then nonchalantly popped theminto their accustomed place before he gathered up his records, machine,and resumed his seat in the front row of the audience, which directedits attention to the minister.

  He was a tall, raw-boned man in long-tailed coat and the white muslintie needed a woman's touch, for one end had escaped and hung like thetail of a kite, as he advanced to the table on which stood a whitepitcher, decorated with brilliantly coloured flowers; a part of thechina set loaned by one of the ladies, whose artistic soul scorned suchtrifles as proportion, perspective or the mere "holding the mirror up toNature."

  In a few words the minister expressed his delight at this largegathering when he had expected a small one, and thanked the dear ladieswho had arranged the beautiful program. Then he beamed graciously at thewiggling children.

  "I know these little ones are growing impatient, so will only hold youlong enough to relate an incident that returned to my memory as I sathere tonight.

  "Many years ago I was travelling through an unsettled Southern district,and passing a high, board fence heard a child's voice praying. I stoodup in my buggy and looked over. I saw a little girl, a dog, a cat and asmall Jersey calf. I waited till her prayer ended, then asked, 'My dear,what are you doing?'

  "'I'm playing Sunday school,' she replied. 'Kitty and Ponto and the calfare my Sunday-school scholars, and I'm the preacher.'

  "A few more words and I went on my way, meditating upon the beauty ofthe child's devotion. I did not happen to return for nearly a year, butwhen I approached the fence I paused and peered over. The child wasthere alone.

  "'How is your Sunday-school getting along?' I asked. She broke intosobs.

  "'Kitty and Ponto got to fighting something awful,' she answered,'and--'

  "'And where is the calf?' I said.

  "'He got too big to come--unless I had a box of grain for him to eat!'

  "The story came back to me and I wondered how many of you who are heretonight will get 'too big to come' to services tomorrow morning?"

  There were amused titters from many, guilty faces and sidelong glances,but the tension was relieved by the next words of the minister; "Now, wewill enjoy the refreshments so generously provided by our dear sisters!"

  At the back of the room were three immense ice-cream freezers. Thecommittee, armed with heaping plates of the frozen delicacy, flanked bygenerous slices of chocolate layer cake, moved swiftly among theaudience. Miss Jenkins carried a large tray to the group formed by Holy,Bronco and Roarer.

  Their eyes appraised the huge heaps of tri-coloured cream--chocolate,vanilla and strawberry, without a doubt. Their hands were reaching toappropriate the plates when Miss Jenkins, who had danced the Maiden'sPrayer, lisped affectedly, "Won't you boys help me a tiny, tiny bit,peath?"

  She held out the tray and rolled her eyes pathetically. "It's awfullyheavy for poor little me, and there are so many people to wait on. Won'tyou, peath, path it around and when it's all gone I'll have some moreready for you to therve."

  Appalled
they stared at her, as she continued her baby appeal and keptthe tray in front of them so there was no possible retreat. The threereached out simultaneously. By some slip the tray lowered a bit andHoly's hand went into a cold, wet mess. With a half-choked oath hejerked back--and the tray crashed to the floor. A scream rose from thelady who had lent her hand-painted plates, and in the confusion thatfollowed the three cowpunchers slipped out of the church obsessed withvisions of a tri-coloured milky way that wended between gobs of squashedchocolate cake and hand-painted flowers.

  Down the street they moved. It was no time for mere words. Even Holy'svocabulary was inadequate to express their feelings. Everything wasdark, every place was closed. It was not later than eight o'clock andthere was no place to go except to their room in the hotel.

  In gloomy silence they mounted the stairs and sought refuge in thelittle room. Through the window they had a view of the church and themoving silhouettes within. The iron entered more deeply.

  Roarer went to the window, and like the prophet of old contemplated thePromised Land that his feet were not to tread. Suddenly his gentle,falsetto voice pierced the silence.

  "I hope that ice-scream will choke that outfit, especially thatlace-curtain female critter! Why didn't she let us alone, anyhow? We wasgettin' along all right until she went and butted in!"

  There was no response, and he continued forlornly, "Gosh! There wasstrawberry and chocolate and vanilly all on the same plate, and thathunk of cake was as big as my fists! And every one in town's eatin' itexceptin' us!"

  They lighted the tiny coal oil lamp and tried to reconcile themselves tothe inevitable. As the smoke from their cigarettes filled the room theireffervescent spirits reasserted themselves. Holy minced over to one ofthe narrow beds and robbed it of a sheet which he proceeded to pull overhis shoulders and twist about his wrists while the other two watched himcuriously. Then the empty corridors and rooms rang with shouts oflaughter as Holy twisted, cavorted and gyrated, waved his long arms andextended supplicating hands in an amusingly accurate imitation of thedance of the Maiden's Prayer. It was their revenge for the loss of thecream.

  An unexpected climax was reached when the sheet slipped and precipitatedHoly full-length on the floor, but the sounds that rose on the air couldnever be confused with the words of any Maiden's Prayer.

  Bronco leaned forward listening intently, and as silence reigned oncemore, he announced, "Say, Holy, that was the best you ever done yet. Icounted sixteen new cuss words that I never heerd you use before. Thatwas the best Maiden's Swear I ever listened to!"

  Roarer looked up suddenly. "Say, did you notice them freezers was rightalong side the back door? Mebbe we kin slip over and corral one of 'emwithout being cotched. I'm powerful thirsty and there ain't no place toget nothin' till eleven o'clock except the church."

  "We could make a try at it," responded the others hopefully.

  They slipped down the stairs. At the bottom, Bronco suggested they getspoons from the hotel kitchen. It was a matter of generalship to boostRoarer through the window, where his collision with pots and pans was noimpediment to his triumphal return with a soup ladle and two largespoons. In the darkness Roarer was able to retain the ladle for himself,handing the spoons to the other boys. Thus equipped they sneaked to therear of the church and crawled cautiously to the open door. One of thecans was within easy reach--the other two some distance from the door.Conversation was in full swing and every one's attention was directedtoward the minister at the front part of the room.

  "Slip her quick," whispered Bronco, "and then we kin pack her out on theprairie and eat all we want."

  The plan was carried out successfully. Roarer and Bronco slid thefreezer until it was outside the door. Swiftly they lifted the tin canfrom the tub of ice and hastened away with their prize, while Holy keptpace with them.

  At a safe distance from the church, they paused and removed the cover.Roarer thrust his dipper down, but had to reach further than heexpected. Deeper he scooped without reward. Once more he tried. It wastoo dark to see inside of the can.

  "Say, are you tryin' to hog it all yourself?" protested Bronco.

  "Nope, Take your turn now."

  Bronco wasted no time, and the other two listened to the click of hisspoon against the tin can. After a few seconds, he raised up, saying,"All right, Holy. You're next!"

  "How is it?" asked Holy as he leaned over the can.

  "Fine as silk," was Bronco's recommendation.

  "Best ice-scream I ever et," asserted Roarer.

  Holy's spoon tattooed on the tin; it scraped forlornly, then there wasbreathless silence, a grunt, followed by the sound of an empty ice-creamfreezer receiving several vigorous kicks accompanied by a terrificvolley of cuss-words.

  "You darn chumps," he gasped at last, "what made you go and take the onethat hadn't northin' in it!"

  "Oh, darn it all. What's the use," piped Roarer's gentle voice. "Let'sgo back and go to bed. Thar ain't nothin' else to do in this yere town."

  They were settled in their beds when Limber opened the door and peeredinto the room.

  "Hello! I been lookin' all over for you," he announced. "When did youget back? I was up here a while ago and none of you was in."

  "Oh, we was just walkin' around town a piece," was Bronco's answer.

  "Well, I got your guns for you. You all went off in sech a hurry fromthe church that you forgot 'em. It's too bad you boys didn't stay forthe feed. It was fine."

  "Oh, we knowed we had a hard day's work ahead of us," drawled Bronco,"so we figured we'd better come home and git to bed."

  "Some one stole one of the freezers," continued Limber, soberly. "Butwhoever done it got the empty one."

  "Served the derned galoots right," pronounced Bronco virtuously.

  "That's what I say," endorsed Roarer, while Holy expressed hissentiments more forcibly.

  Limber struck a match which he held to his cigarette, but his eyesregarded the grave faces of the boys. The match flickered out and theroom was again in darkness, but not before they had seen the ghost of atwinkle in Limber's grey eyes.

  "They got the freezer all right," he continued in the darkness.

  "Who found it?" asked Bronco carelessly, pretending to smother a yawn.

  "I done it," said Limber. "I was just a walkin' around town a piece,like you all was doin', and I come across it accidental like."

  Silence was the only comment.

  "The Inspector will be ready for us at eleven o'clock. Agent says thecars will be here by that time, so we can load out and get back to theranch by supper."

  "All right," chorused three voices in the dark, and Limber went to hisown room. As he lighted the lamp there was a broad grin on his face, andhis eyes danced with laughter, while he reiterated Bronco'sdenunciation, "Served the darned galoots right!"

  Willcox slept late Sunday morning, so no one noticed shadowy figuresdismount from three cowponies two hours before daylight. A strugglingcalf was making a heroic fight for freedom, but found itself propelledtoward the picket fence surrounding the church and thrust through thegate. The mysterious men hitched the animal firmly inside the fence,then two placards of pasteboard, tied loosely together, were thrownacross the calf's back and secured like a pack-saddle by strong cord.This accomplished, the three men mounted their ponies and disappeared inthe starlight.

  Willcox woke, rubbed its eyes and remembered a minister was to holdDivine Services that day of the year. Ten o'clock arrived. The firstyoungsters and their adult family connections approached the churchgate. They congregated in animated groups, were joined by others, andfinally spectators across the street, realizing that somethinginteresting was detaining the congregation from entering the church,sauntered over. These inquirers hastened back to town and circulatednews that caused a veritable stampede.

  By the time the minister reached the scene the crowd composed the entirepopulation of the town--men, women, children and dogs, several of thelatter adding to the excitement by proceeding to settle feuds of lon
gstanding.

  The Reverend Silas Hunter passed through the gate and his eyes swept thecrowd, then rested on the centre of attraction--a husky, white-facedcalf tethered to the fence by a rope. The animal had been lying down, inno way disturbed by the people or dog-fights, but as the Dominiescrutinized it, it rose and bellowed loudly into his face amid shouts oflaughter. Across the calf's back swung the placards on which, printedin irregular letters, were the words;

  I AM NOT TO BIG TO KUM BUT FOR GODS SAKE HEAD OF THE PROJIGUL SON.

  "Oh!" ejaculated the Reverend Hunter, beaming upon the assemblage. "Isee we have a donation. We will keep the calf, sell it and apply theproceeds to our Church Funds. Now," he addressed two half-grown lads,"you boys sit close to the door during services and see that the calfdoes not get away. Some unprincipled person might try to steal it, youknow. We will find a place to care for it after services."

  Across the street Bronco, Roarer and Holy stood in consultation. Theyhad hovered on the edge of the crowd when the minister made hisannouncement, and they realized there was to be no opportunity to getpossession of that calf in order to turn it loose--as they had planned.

  "Say, he sure called our hands," said Holy despondently. "He's tooderned smart to be a minister. What the devil are we goin' to do aboutit?"

  "Let him keep the doggone calf and we'll have to put up a jackpot forthe feller that owns it," advised Bronco.

  "It ain't marked," squeaked Roarer excitedly. "Did any of you see thebrand on the cow it was with?"

  None of them had noticed such a trifle in their desire to capture thecalf and accomplish the trick without discovery.

  "Well, I guess we'll have to own up," asserted Holy, as they droppedside by side on the wooden bench in front of the hotel, and staredhopelessly across at the calf and the widely-opened church door.

  "We sure got a hoodoo on us this trip," said Bronco. "First we gotbuncoed out of the ice-scream by that female window-curtain, then wegoes and steals an empty ice-cream freezer and now we're stuck aboutthat air calf. It'd be easy enough, to pay for it if we knowed themother's brand, but seein' as we didn't pay attention to that, we'vejust got to buck up and go to that gospel-shark and tell him we done it.There's no tellin' what he'll do about it, let alone the feller thatowns the calf. Darn it all, why didn't Limber stick along with us allthe time and keep us from gettin' into this mix-up?"

  "Looks to me like Limber can't do nothin' more'n he's done, except hechloroforms us the next time we get in town," replied Holy emphatically.

  Then the unexpected happened. The restless calf, working against thestiff, new rope, untied it. Before any one in the church had observedit, the animal was down the railroad track and pushing its way amongnumbers of cattle that always congregated near the inspection chutes. Itmoved to and fro, searching for its mother. The watching cowboys couldsee the two placards still firmly in place.

  "Gee! If we could just get them pasteboards off'n her, nobody would knowwhat calf it is"; Bronco said breathlessly.

  "Come along!"

  It was Holy who spoke and led the way to where their ponies stood tiedand saddled ready for work when Limber and the Inspector arrived.

  "We kin ride down there and scoop it off in no time."

  The ponies dashed forward in a cloud of dust, but as they neared thegroup, a long-horned buckskin cow turned angrily as the calf pushedagainst it, and with a sidesweep of her horn she caught the string thatheld the placards. The string broke, but the placards snapped over thecow's eyes, twisted lightly to her horn, and with a frightened bellowshe dashed down the railroad track, past the emerging congregation, withthe pasteboards banging and flapping across her face until shedisappeared.

  "That's the fust decent buckskin cow I ever seed," said Bronco. "Shemay have a yeller hide but she's a thoroughbred Hereford inside, youbet!"

  Then Limber and the Inspector came toward them, and joined in the rideto the corrals. As they passed the group of cattle they saw the calfcontentedly taking nourishment from a cow that was evidently its mother.Bronco, Holy and Roarer cast surreptitious glances at the ear-marks andbrand of the cow. Their eyes met. Idiotic grins spread over each face.The cow was branded Diamond H. None of them spoke.

  The cattle were inspected and loaded without any untoward incident, andLimber breathed more easily as the time approached for him to head hismen toward the ranch. It was only during leisure hours in town thatmischief hatched, and the foreman could never tell what might developein a very short time.

  It was with a feeling of relief from responsibility that Limber tuckedthe certified check in his pocket, but as they started homeward the boyswere as glad as he. Bronco's ear-splitting whistles, "Home, sweet home,"found sympathetic response in the breasts of the other men. It had beena strenuous trip. The ranch loomed like a haven of rest.

  The next morning Powell and Traynor discussed Paddy's proposition withLimber, as they sat in the court-yard of the ranch, after Limber hadstarted the men for their day's work.

  "Thirty-five thousand in gold coin is what he wants," said the foreman,"and his bunch of stuff is worth every cent of it with the ranch throwedin. He won't count anything under six months old, if you want to tallythe herd out, and tail 'em."

  "It's a good buy," Traynor replied. Then turned to Powell. "Paddy isunique. He is seventy-six years old and has toiled many years toaccumulate a herd. He cannot read or write a word, and carries everyitem of his accounts in his memory. The storekeepers say that Paddynever makes an error when their statements for six months are read tohim, no matter whether the mistake is to his advantage or not. He livesalone. Refuses to accept silver or paper money and insists on gold forall sales. He buries his money secretly, as he has no faith in banks. Heis a joke in the corrals, but no joke, however, when he is roused. Abunch of rustlers found that out to their sorrow."

  Limber's eyes twinkled, as Traynor added, "Tell the doctor whathappened. You were there, I wasn't."

  "Well, the rustlers rounded up a band of fine horses and cattle and wasmakin' for the Mexican border. Pretty near got thar when ol' Paddy runinto them alone. Him and me had just parted trails, and when I heerdshootin' I hurried to him. The rustlers was back of some rocks on thehill-slope, Paddy a lyin' down in back of a bit of brush not big enoughto hide a good-sized jack-rabbit. His head was hid and all the rest ofhim in plain sight, and those rustlers was pumpin' lead as fast as theycould. So was Paddy, but they had the advantage of him every way. Fourof 'em back of the rocks. Paddy had shot two of their horses from underthem, and they let the stolen stock run whilst they hunted shelterafoot. Jest as I got near enough to help him, he got a cartridge jammedin his Winchester, and couldn't get it out. He worked and cussed around,then got right up on his feet and walked around that hillside, as if hewas prospectin' for a mine, takin' his time to find something to pry outthat cartridge. And those rustlers kept popping away at him. Every timethe dust kicked up close, Paddy'd squint at the rocks and cuss harder.Then jest as I got into the game, he got that gun fixed, and derned ifhe didn't jest walk slow up the hill, and fust thing, the rustlers comea humping out from the rocks in every direction, and all of 'em--fourmen--with their hands helt up over their heads, and Paddy back of 'em."

  "That was one of the times Paddy did not whisper," laughed Traynor."Well, I'll see Paddy for you, and now, Limber, Doctor Powell wants togo see the Hot Springs and talk with Doctor King."

  "Doctor Powell could cut across the Galiuros the day the boys start fromhere with the herd," said Limber, "or, if Doctor Powell wanted to stayat the Springs a couple of days with King, I could take him there andthen go on to Willcox to attend to the loadin', and go back to theSprings. Anyway suits me that suits him and you."

  "That would be the best," commented Traynor. "You and Doctor Powell canleave here the same day that the herd starts to Willcox. Then let thedoctor wait at Hot Springs until you get back there after the shipment."

  "It would suit me perfectly," was Powell's hearty reply. "That is if Iwill not be imposing u
nwarrantedly on Doctor King's hospitality."

  "If you knew him you would not say that," Traynor spoke earnestly. "Heis one of the biggest-hearted men I have ever known. You and he willfind many topics of mutual interest apart from your profession. I ampretty sure he will be delighted with your idea of sanitarium forchildren as he loves children dearly. He has not an enemy in Arizona.Every one likes him."

  So the matter was settled, and four days later Limber and Doctor Powellstarted just after daylight breakfast for their ride of twenty-six milesacross the Galiuro Mountains to the Hot Springs.