CHAPTER XVI. Rustlers on the Range
The affair at Cactus Springs had more effect on the life at the Bar-20than was realized by the foreman. News travels rapidly, and certainmen, whose attributes were not of the sweetest, heard of it and sworevengeance, for Slim Travennes had many friends, and the result of hispassing began to show itself. Outlaws have as their strongest defensethe fear which they inspire, and little time was lost in makingreprisals, and these caused Buck Peters to ride into Buckskin one brightOctober morning and then out the other side of the town. Coming tohimself with a start he looked around shamefacedly and retraced hiscourse. He was very much troubled, for, as foreman of the Bar-20, hehad many responsibilities, and when things ceased to go aright he wasexpected not only to find the cause of the evil, but also the remedy.That was what he was paid seventy dollars a month for and that was whathe had been endeavoring to do. As yet, however, he had only accomplishedwhat the meanest cook's assistant had done. He knew the cause of hispresent woes to be rustlers (cattle thieves), and that was all.
Riding down the wide, quiet street, he stopped and dismounted before theever-open door of a ramshackle, one-story frame building. Tossing thereins over the flattened ears of his vicious pinto he strode into thebuilding and leaned easily against the bar, where he drummed with hisfingers and sank into a reverie.
A shining bald pate, bowed over an open box, turned around andrevealed a florid face, set with two small, twinkling blue eyes, as theproprietor, wiping his hands on his trousers, made his way to Buck's endof the bar.
"Mornin', Buck. How's things?"
The foreman, lost in his reverie, continued to stare out the door.
"Mornin'," repeated the man behind the bar. "How's things?"
"Oh!" ejaculated the foreman, smiling, "purty cussed."
"Anything flew?"
"Th' C-80 lost another herd last night."
His companion swore and placed a bottle at the foreman's elbow, butthe latter shook his head. "Not this mornin'--I'll try one of them vilecigars, however."
"Them cigars are th' very best that--" began the proprietor, executingthe order.
"Oh, heck!" exclaimed Buck with weary disgust. "Yu don't have to palavernone: I shore knows all that by heart."
"Them cigars--" repeated the proprietor.
"Yas, yas; them cigars--I know all about them cigars. Yu gets them fortwenty dollars a thousand an' hypnotizes us into payin' yu a hundred,"replied the foreman, biting off the end 'of his weed. Then he staredmoodily and frowned. "I wonder why it is?" He asked. "We punchers likegood stuff an' we pays good prices with good money. What do we get? Why,cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol an' extract forour drink. Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a sumptious layout, paysless an' gets bang-up stuff. If yu smelled one of them K. C. cigars yu'dshore have to ask what it was, an' as for the liquor, why, yu'd thinkSt. Peter asked yu to have one with him. It's shore wrong somewhere."
"They have more trade in K. C.," suggested the proprietor.
"An' help, an' taxes, an' a license, an' rent, an' brass, cut glass,mahogany an' French mirrors," countered the foreman.
"They have more trade," reiterated the man with the cigars.
"Forty men spend thirty dollars apiece with yu every month." Theproprietor busied himself under the bar. "Yu'll feel better to-morrow.Anyway, what do yu care, yu won't lose yore job," he said, emerging.
Buck looked at him and frowned, holding back the words which formed inanger. What was the use, he thought, when every man judged the world inhis own way.
"Have yu seen any of th' boys?" He asked, smiling again.
"Nary a boy. Who do yu reckon's doin' all this rustlin'?"
"I'm reckonin', not shoutin'," responded the foreman.
The proprietor looked out the window and grinned: "Here comes one ofyourn now."
The newcomer stopped his horse in a cloud of dust, playfully kicked theanimal in the ribs and entered, dusting the alkali from him with a hugesombrero. Then he straightened up and sniffed: "What's burnin'?" heasked, simulating alarm. Then he noticed the cigar between the teeth ofhis foreman and grinned: "Gee, but yore a brave man, Buck."
"Hullo, Hopalong," said the foreman. "Want a smoke?" Waving his handtoward the box on the bar.
Mr. Hopalong Cassidy side-stepped and began to roll a cigarette: "Shore,but I'll burn my own--I know what it is."
"What was yu doin' to my cayuse afore yu come in?" Asked Buck.
"Nothin'," replied the newcomer. "That was mine what I kicked in th'corrugations."
"How is it yore ridin' the calico?" Asked the foreman. "I thought yu wasdead stuck on that piebald."
"That piebald's a goat; he's beein livin' off my pants lately,"responded Hopalong. "Every time I looks th' other way he ambles over andtakes a bite at me. Yu just wait 'til this rustler business is roped,an' branded, an' yu'll see me eddicate that blessed scrapheap intoeatin' grass again." He swiped Billy's shirt th' other day--took it rightoff th' corral wall, where Billy's left it to dry. Then, seeing Buckraise his eyebrows, he explained: "Shore, he washed it again. That makesthree times since last fall."
The proprietor laughed and pushed out the ever-ready bottle, butHopalong shoved it aside and told the reason: "Ever since I was up to K.C. I've been spoiled. I'm drinkin' water an' slush."
"For Pete's sake, has any more of yu fellers been up to K. C.?" queriedthe proprietor in alarm.
"Shore: Red an' Billy was up there, too." responded Hopalong. "Red's gota few remarks to shout to yu about yore pain-killer. Yu better send forsome decent stuff afore he comes to town," he warned.
Buck swung away from the bar and looked at his dead cigar. Then heturned to Hopalong. "What did you find?" He asked.
"Same old story: nice wide trail up to th' Staked Plain--then nothin'."
"It shore beats me," soliloquized the foreman. "It shore beats me."
"Think it was Tamale Jose's old gang?" Asked Hopalong.
"If it was they took th' wrong trail home--that ain't th' way to Mexico."
Hopalong tossed aside his half-smoked cigarette. "Well, come on home;what's th' use stewin' over it? It'll come out all O.K. in th' wash."Then he laughed: "There won't be no piebald waitin' for it."
Evading Buck's playful blow he led the way to the door, and soonthey were a cloud of dust on the plain. The proprietor, despairing ofcustomers under the circumstances, absent-mindedly wiped oil on the bar,and sought his chair for a nap, grumbling about the way his trade hadfallen off, for there were few customers, and those who did call wereheavy with loss of sleep, and with anxiety, and only paused long enoughto toss off their drink. On the ranges there were occurrences whichtried men's souls.
For several weeks cattle had been disappearing from the ranges and thelosses had long since passed the magnitude of those suffered when TamaleJose and his men had crossed the Rio Grande and repeatedly levied heavytoll on the sleek herds of the Pecos Valley. Tamale Jose had raided oncetoo often, and prosperity and plenty had followed on the ranches and thelosses had been forgotten until the fall round-ups clearly showed thatrustlers were again at work.
Despite the ingenuity of the ranch owners and the unceasing vigilanceand night rides of the cow-punchers, the losses steadily increased untilthere was promised a shortage which would permit no drive to the westernterminals of the railroad that year. For two weeks the banks of the RioGrande had been patrolled and sharp-eyed men searched daily for trailsleading southward, for it was not strange to think that the old raiderswere again at work, notwithstanding the fact that they had paid dearlyfor their former depredations.
The patrols failed to discover anything out of the ordinary and thesearchers found no trails. Then it was that the owners and foremen ofthe four central ranches met in Cowan's saloon and sat closeted togetherfor all of one hot afternoon.
The conference resulted in riders being dispatched from all the ranchesrepresented, and one of the couriers, Mr. Red Connors, rode north, hisdestination being far-away Montana. All the
ranches within a radius ofa hundred miles received letters and blanks and one week later the PecosValley Cattle-Thief Elimination Association was organized and working,with Buck as Chief Ranger.
One of the outcomes of Buck's appointment was a sudden and markedimmigration into the affected territory. Mr. Connors returned fromMontana with Mr. Frenchy McAllister, the foreman of the Tin-Cup, who wasaccompanied by six of his best and most trusted men. Mr. McAllister andparty were followed by Mr. You-bet Somes, foreman of the Two-X-Two ofArizona, and five of his punchers, and later on the same day Mr. PieWillis, accompanied by Mr. Billy Jordan and his two brothers, arrivedfrom the Panhandle. The O-Bar-O, situated close to the town of MuddyWells, increased its payroll by the addition of nine men, each of whombore the written recommendation of the foreman of the Bar-20. The C-80,Double Arrow and the Three Triangle also received heavy reinforcements,and even Carter, owner of the Barred Horseshoe, far removed from thezone of the depredations, increased his outfits by half their regularstrength.
Buck believed that if a thing was worth doing at all that it was worthdoing very well, and his acquaintances were numerous and loyal. Thecollection of individuals that responded to the call were noteworthyexamples of "gun-play" and their aggregate value was at par with twicetheir numbers in cavalry.
Each ranch had one large ranch-house and numerous line-houses scatteredalong the boundaries. These latter, while intended as camps for theoutriders, had been erected in the days, none too remote, when Apaches,Arrapahoes, and even Cheyennes raided southward, and they had beenconstructed with the idea of defense paramount. Upon more than oneoccasion a solitary line-rider had retreated within their adobe wallsand had successfully resisted all the cunning and ferocity of a scoreof paint-bedaubed warriors and, when his outfit had rescued him, emergednone the worse for his ordeal.
On the Bar-20, Buck placed these houses in condition to withstand seige.Twin barrels of water stood in opposite corners, provisions were storedon the hanging shelves and the bunks once again reveled in untidiness.Spare rifles, in pattern ranging from long-range Sharp's and buffaloguns to repeating rifles, leaned against the walls, and unbroken boxesof cartridges were piled above the bunks. Instead of the lonesomeoutrider, he placed four men to each house, two of whom were to remainat home and hold the house while their companions rode side by side ontheir multi-mile beat.
There were six of these houses and, instead of returning each night tothe same line-house, the outriders kept on and made the circuit,thus keeping every one well informed and breaking the monotony. Thesemeasures were expected to cause the rustling operations to cease atonce, but the effect was to shift the losses to the Double Arrow, theline-houses of which boasted only one puncher each. Unreasonable economyusually defeats its object.
The Double Arrow was restricted on the north by the Staked Plain, whichin itself was considered a superb defense. The White Sand Hills formedits eastern boundary and were thought to be second only to the northernprotection. The only reason that could be given for the hithertocomparative immunity from the attacks of the rustlers was that itscattle clung to the southern confines where there were numerous springs,thus making imperative the crossing of its territory to gain the herds.
It was in line-house No. 3, most remote of all, that Johnny Redmondfought his last fight and was found face down in the half ruined housewith a hole in the back of his head, which proved that one man wasincapable of watching all the loop holes in four walls at once. Theremust have been some casualties on the other side, for Johnny was reputedto be very painstaking in his "gunplay," and the empty shells which layscattered on the floor did not stand for as many ciphers, of that hisforeman was positive.
He was buried the day he was found, and the news of his death ranquickly from ranch to ranch and made more than one careless puncherarise and pace the floor in anger. More men came to the Double Arrow andits sentries were doubled. The depredations continued, however, andone night a week later Frank Swift reeled into the ranch-house and fellexhausted across the supper table. Rolling hoof-beats echoed flatlyand died away on the plain, but the men who pursued them returned emptyhanded. The wounds of the unfortunate were roughly dressed and in hisdelirium he recounted the fight. His companion was found literally shotto pieces twenty paces from the door. One wall was found blown in, andthis episode, when coupled with the use of dynamite, was more than couldbe tolerated.
When Buck had been informed of this he called to him Hopalong Cassidy,Red Connors and Frenchy McAllister, and the next day the three men rodenorth and the contingents of the ranches represented in the Associationwere divided into two squads, one of which was to remain at home andguard the ranches; the other, to sleep fully dressed and armed and neverto stray far from their ranch-houses and horses. These latter would becalled upon to ride swiftly and far when the word came.