CHAPTER XXIX
THE SHOW
Jansen, the big Swede, was the first to finish his meal in Drew'sdining-room. For that matter, he was always first. He ate withastonishing expedition, lowering his head till that tremendous,shapeless mouth was close to the plate and then working knife and forkalternately with an unfaltering industry. To-night, spurred on by adesire to pass through this mechanical effort and be prepared for thecoming action, his speed was something truly marvellous. He did notappear to eat; the food simply vanished from the plate; it was absorbedlike a mist before the wind. While the others were barely growingsettled in their places, Jansen was already through.
He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, produced Durham and papers,and proceeded to light up. Lawlor, struggling still to re-establishhimself in the eyes of Bard as the real William Drew, seized theopportunity to exert a show of authority. He smashed his big fist onthe table.
"Jansen!" he roared.
"Eh?" grunted the Swede.
"Where was you raised?"
"Me?"
"You, square-head."
"Elvaruheimarstadhaven."
"Are you sneezin' or talkin' English?"
Jansen, irritated, bellowed: "Elvaruheimarstadhaven! That's where I wasborn."
"That's where you was born? Elvaru--damn such a language! No wonder youSwedes don't know nothin'. It takes all your time learnin' how to talkyour lingo. But if you ain't never had no special trainin' in manners,I'm goin' to make a late start with you now. Put out that cigarette!"
The pale eyes of Jansen stared, fascinated; the vast mouth fell agape.
"Maybe," he began, and then finished weakly: "I be damned!"
"There ain't no reasonable way of doubtin' that unless you put out thatsmoke. Hear me?"
Shorty Kilrain, coming from the kitchen, grinned broadly. Having feltthe lash of discipline himself, he was glad to see it fall in anotherplace. He continued his gleeful course around that side of the table.
And big Jansen slowly, imperturbably, raised the cigarette and inhaled amighty cloud of smoke which issued at once in a rushing, fine blue mist,impelled by a snort.
"Maybe," he rumbled, completing his thought, "maybe you're one damnfool!"
"I'm going to learn you who's boss in these parts," boomed Lawlor. "Putout that cigarette! Don't you know no better than to smoke at thetable?"
Jansen pushed back his chair and started to rise. There was no doubt asto his intentions; they were advertised in the dull and growing redwhich flamed in his face. But Kilrain, as though he had known such amoment would come, caught the Swede by the shoulders and forced him backinto the chair. As he did so he whispered something in the ear ofJansen.
"Let him go!" bellowed Lawlor. "Let him come on. Don't hold him. I ain'thad work for my hands for five years. I need exercise, I do."
The mouth of Jansen stirred, but no words came. A hopeless yearning wasin his eyes. But he dropped the cigarette and ground it under his heel.
"I thought," growled Lawlor, "that you knew your master, but don't makeno mistake again. Speakin' personal, I don't think no more of knockin'down a Swede than I do of flickin' the ashes off'n a cigar."
He indulged in a side glance at Bard to see if the latter were properlyimpressed, but Anthony was staring blankly straight before him, unable,to all appearances, to see anything of what was happening.
"Kilrain," went on Lawlor, "trot out some cigars. You know where they'rekept."
Kilrain falling to the temptation, asked: "Where's the key to thecabinet?"
For Drew kept his tobacco in a small cabinet, locked because of longexperience with tobacco-loving employees. Lawlor started to speak,checked himself, fumbled through his pockets, and then roared: "Smashthe door open. I misplaced the key."
No semblance of a smile altered the faces of the cowpunchers around thetable, but glances of vague meaning were interchanged. Kilrainreappeared almost at once, bearing a large box of cigars under each arm.
"The eats bein' over," announced Lawlor, "we can now light up. Open themboxes, Shorty. Am I goin' to work on you the rest of my life teachin'you how to serve cigars?"
Kilrain sighed deeply, but obeyed, presenting the open boxes in turn toBard, who thanked him, and to Lawlor, who bit off the end of his smokecontinued: "A match, Kilrain."
And he waited, swelling with pleasure, his eyes fixed upon space.Kilrain lighted a match and held it for the two in turn. Two rows ofwaiting, expectant eyes were turned from the whole length, of the table,toward the cigars.
"Shall I pass on the cigars?" suggested Bard.
"_These_ smokes?" breathed Lawlor. "Waste 'em on common hands? Partner,you ain't serious, are you?"
A breath like the faint sighing of wind reached them; the cowpuncherswere resigned, and started now to roll their Durham. But it seemed as ifa chuckle came from above; it was only some sound in the gasoline lamp,a big fixture which hung suspended by a slender chain from the centre ofthe ceiling and immediately above the table.
"Civilizin' cowpunchers," went on Lawlor, tilting back in his chair andbracing his feet against the edge of the table, "civilizin' cowpunchersis worse'n breakin' mustangs. They's some that say it can't be done.But look at this crew. Do they look like rough uns?"
A stir had passed among the cowpunchers and solemn stares of hatetransfixed Lawlor, but he went on: "I'm askin' you, do these lookrough?"
"I should say," answered Bard courteously, "that you have a prettyexperienced lot of cattle-men."
"Experienced? Well, they'll pass. They've had experience with bar whiskyand talkin' to their cards at poker, but aside from bein' pretty muchdrunks and crookin' the cards, they ain't anything uncommon. But when Igot 'em they was wild, they was. Why, if I'd talked like this in frontof 'em they'd of been guns pulled. But look at 'em now. I ask you: Lookat 'em now! Ain't they tame? They hear me call 'em what they are, butthey don't even bat an eye. Yes, sir, I've tamed 'em. They took a lot oflickin', but now they're tamed. Hello!"
For through the door stalked a newcomer. He paused and cast a curiouseye up the table to Lawlor.
"What the hell!" he remarked naively. "Where's the chief?"
"Fired!" bellowed Lawlor without a moment of hesitation.
"Who fired him?" asked the new man, with an expectant smile, like onewho waits for the point of a joke, but he caught a series of strangesignals from men at the table and many a broad wink.
"I fired him, Gregory," answered Lawlor. "I fired Nash!"
He turned to Bard.
"You see," he said rather weakly, "the boys is used to callin' Nash 'thechief.'"
"Ah, yes," said Bard, "I understand."
And Lawlor felt that he did understand, and too well.
Gregory, in the meantime, silenced by the mysterious signs from hisfellow cowpunchers, took his place and began eating without anotherword. No one spoke to him, but as if he caught the tenseness of thesituation, his eyes finally turned and glanced up the table to Bard.
It was easy for Anthony to understand that glance. It is the sort oflook which the curious turn on the man accused of a great crime andsitting in the court room guilty. His trial in silence had continueduntil he was found guilty. Apparently, he was now to be both judged andexecuted at the same time.
There could not be long delay. The entrance of Gregory had almost beenthe precipitant of action, and though it had been smoothed over to anextent, still the air was each moment more charged with suspense. Themen were lighting their second cigarette. With each second it grewclearer that they were waiting for something. And as if thoughtful ofthe work before them, they no longer talked so fluently.
Finally there was no talk at all, save for sporadic outbursts, and theblue smoke and the brown curled up slowly in undisturbed drifts towardthe ceiling until a bright halo formed around the gasoline lamp. Achildish thought came to Bard that where the smoke was so thick the firecould not be long delayed.
A second form appeared in the doorway, lithe, graceful, and the lightmade her
hair almost golden.
"Ev'nin', fellers," called Sally jauntily. "Hello, Lawlor; what youdoin' at the head of the table?"