CHAPTER XVII
COUNTING THEIR CHICKENS
The "Happy Family" of The Colonial had decided to make up a congenialparty and spend the remainder of the summer at the Lolabama Ranch inWyoming. They were expected on the morrow, everything was in readinessfor their coming, and, after supper, down by the corrals Wallie andPinkey sat on their heels estimating their probable profits.
Pinkey's forehead was furrowed like a corrugated roof with the mentaleffort as he figured in the dust with a pointed stick while Wallie'sface wore a look of absorption as he watched the progress, although hewas already as familiar with it as with his multiplication tables.
"Ten head of dudes at $100 a month is a $1,000," said Pinkey. "Andtwelve months in the year times a $1,000 is $12,000. And, say----"
Wallie interrupted:
"But I've told you a dozen times they all go South in the winter. Themost we can count on is two months now and perhaps more next summer."
Pinkey replied confidently:
"You can't figger out ahead what a dude is goin' to do any more than acalf or a sheep. If we treat 'em right and they get stuck on the countrythey're liable to winter here instead of Floridy. Now, if we couldwinter--say--ten head of dudes at $150 a month for seven months, thatwould be $10,500. The trip through the Yellowstone Park and Jackson HoleCountry is goin' to be a big item. Ten head of dudes--say--at $5.00 aday for--say--fifteen days is----"
"But you never deduct expenses, Pinkey. It isn't all profit. There's theinterest on the investment, interest on the money we borrowed,groceries, the cook's wages, and we'll need helpers through theYellowstone."
"You're gettin' an awful habit of lookin' on the black side of things,"said Pinkey, crossly.
"If we can pay expenses and have a $1,000 clear the first year, I'll besatisfied."
"A thousand dollars!" Pinkey exclaimed, indignantly. "You're easypleased--I thought you had more ambition. Look at the different ways wegot to git their money. Two bits apiece for salt water baths and eightbaths a day--some of 'em might not go in reg'lar--every day, but, sayeight of 'em do, anyway, eight times two bits is $2.00. Then $10.00apiece every time they go to town in the stage-coach is, say, $100 atrip--and they go twict a week, say, that's $200."
"But they might not go twice a week," Wallie protested, "nor all of themat a time."
"You shore give me the blues a croakin'. Why don't you look on thebright side of things like you useta? Do you know, I've been thinkin' weought to make out a scale of prices for lettin' 'em work around theplace. They'd enjoy it if they had to pay for it--dudes is like that,I've noticed. They're all pretty well fixed, ain't they?"
"Oh, yes, they all have a good deal of money, unless, perhaps MissEyester, and I don't know much about her in that way. But Mr. Penrose,Mr. Appel, and Mr. Budlong are easily millionaires."
Pinkey's eyes sparkled.
"I s'pose a dollar ain't any more to them than a nickel to us?"
Wallie endeavoured to think of an instance which would indicate thatPinkey's supposition was correct, but, recalling none, declaredenthusiastically:
"They are the most agreeable, altogether delightful people you everknew, and, if I do say it, they think the world of me."
"That's good; maybe they won't deal us so much grief."
"How--grief?"
"Misery," Pinkey explained.
"I can't imagine them doing anything ill-natured or ill-bred," Walliereplied, resentfully. "You must have been unfortunate in the kind ofdudes you've met."
Pinkey changed the subject as he did when he was unconvinced but he wasin no mood for argument. He climbed to the top pole of the corral fenceand looked proudly at the row of ten-by-twelve tents which the guestswere to occupy, at the long tar-paper room built on to the originalcabin for a dining room, at the new bunk-house for himself and Wallieand the help, at the shed with a dozen new saddles hanging on theirnails, while the ponies to wear them milled behind him in the corral.His eyes sparkled as he declared:
"We shore got a good dudin' outfit! But it's nothin' to what we _will_have--watch our smoke! The day'll come when we'll see this country, asyou might say, lousy with dudes! So fur as the eye kin reach--dudes!Nothin' but dudes!" He illustrated with a gesture so wide and vigorousthat if it had not been for his high heels hooked over a pole he wouldhave lost his balance.
"Yes," Wallie agreed, complacently, "at least we've got a start. And itseems like a good sign, the luck we've had in picking things up cheap."
Instinctively they both looked at the old-fashioned, four-horsestage-coach that they had found scrapped behind the blacksmith shop inProuty and bought for so little that they had quaked in their boots lestthe blacksmith change his mind before they could get it home. But theirfears were groundless, since the blacksmith was uneasy from the samecause.
They had had it repaired and painted red, with yellow wheels thatflashed in the sun. And now, there it stood--the last word in thepicturesque discomfort for which dudes were presumed to yearn! Theyregarded it as their most valuable possession since, at $10.00 a trip,it would quickly pay for itself and thereafter yield a large returnupon a small investment.
Neither of them could look at it without pride, and Pinkey chortled forthe hundredth time:
"It shore was a great streak of luck when we got that coach!"
Wallie agreed that it was, and added:
"Everything's been going so well that I'm half scared. Look at thathotel-range we got second hand--as good as new; and the way we stumbledon to a first-class cook; and my friends coming out--it seems almost toogood to be true."
He drew a sigh which came from such contentment as he had not knownsince he came to the State, for it seemed as if he were over the hardpart of the road and on the way to see a few of his hopes realized.
With the money he had collected from Canby he had formed a partnershipwith Pinkey whereby the latter was to furnish the experience and hisservices as against his, Wallie's, capital.
Once more the future looked roseate; but perhaps the real source of hishappiness lay in the fact that he had seen Helene Spenceley in Prouty agood bit of late and she had treated him with a consideration which hadbeen conspicuously lacking heretofore.
If he made a success she _must_ take him seriously and--anyway, histrain of thought led him to inquire:
"Don't you ever think about getting married, Pink?"
His partner regarded him in astonishment.
"Now wouldn't I look comical tied to one of them quails I see runnin'around Prouty!"
"But," Wallie persisted, "some nice girl----"
"Aw-w---- I'd ruther have a good saddle-horse. I had a pal that tried itonct, and when I seen him, I says: 'How is it, Jess?' He says, 'Well,the first year is the worst, and after that it's worse and worse.' No,sir! Little Pinkey knows when he's well off."
It was obvious that his partner's mood did not fit in with his own. Thenew moon rose and the crickets chirped as the two sat in silence on thefence and smoked.
"It's a wonderful night!" Wallie said, finally, in a hushed voice.
"It's plumb peaceful," Pinkey agreed. "I feel like I do when I'm gittin'drunk and I've got to the stage whur my lip gits stiff. I've alwayswisht I could die when I was like that."
Wallie suggested curtly:
"Let's go to bed." He had regretted his partner's lack of sentiment morethan once.
"Time to git into the feathers if we make an early start." Pinkeyunhooked his heels. "Might have a little trouble hitchin' up. The twobroncs I aim to put on the wheel has never been drove."