CHAPTER FOUR
A MATTER OF BRANDS
On the grassy expanse known locally as Injun Creek, fifteen hundredhead of cattle were milling restlessly in a close-held herd over whichgray dust hovered and settled and rose again. Toward it other cattlecame lowing, trotting now and then when the riders pressed close,essaying a retreat when the way seemed clear. From Devil's Tooth theycame, and from Lava Bed way, and from the rough sandstone ridges ofMill Creek. Two by two the riders, mere moving dots at first against amonotone of the rangeland, took form as they neared the common center.Red cattle, black cattle, spotted and dingy white, with bandy-legged,flat-bodied calves keeping close to their mothers, kicking up theirheels in sheer joy of their new life when the pace slowed a little,seeking a light lunch whenever the cows stopped to cast a wary glanceback at their pursuer. A dozen brands were represented in thatforegathering: The NL brand of Tom Lorrigan on most, with its variousamendments which differentiated the property of other members of thefamily, since all of the Lorrigans owned cattle. There was the NLBlock of Belle Lorrigan, the ANL which was Al's brand, the DNL of Dukeand the LNL which belonged to Lance; monograms all of them, deftlyconstructed with the fewest possible lines. There was that invitationto the unlawful artistry of brand-working, the Eleven which SleekDouglas thought quite sufficient to mark his cattle. It was mercifulto the calves, he maintained, and as to thieves, the dishonest wouldbe punished by law and the Douglas wrath. The Miller brand, a plainBlock, showed now and then upon the rump of some animal. The AJ fledoccasionally before a rider, and there were brands alien to the BlackRim; brands on cattle that had drifted down from the Snake through theLava Creek pass, or over the sage-grown ridges farther north.
His rifle sheathed in a saddle holster under his thigh, his black eyesroving here and there and letting no small movement of men or animalsescape their seeing glances, Tom Lorrigan rode to the round-up, lordof the range, steadfast upon the trail of his "million on the hoof" ofwhich he dreamed. Beside him rode Al, and the two of them were talkingwhile they rode.
"He ain't safe, I tell you," Al was saying in the tone of reiteration."And you needn't ask me how I know. I know it, that's all. Maybe he'stoo damn' agreeable or something. Anyway, I know I don't like the wayhis eyes set in his head."
"A man that wasn't safe wouldn't dare come into the Black Rim and makethe play he's makin'," Tom contended. "I've had my eye on him eversince he come. I've checked up what he says at different times--theytally like the truth. I can't find nothing wrong."
"I've got him set down for a spotter," said Al.
"If he ain't on the level it'll show up sooner or later," Tomcontended. "I've got my eye on him. I dunno what you pin your argumenton, Al, I'll be darned if I do."
"Well, watch out for Cheyenne. That's all. You're pretty keen, allright, but all a man's got to do to get on your blind side is to blowin here with his chin on his shoulder and his horse rode to a whisperand claim to you he's hidin' out. Cheyenne ain't right, I tell yuh.You take a tip from me and watch him."
"Takes a kid to tell his dad where to head in at!" growled Tom. "Howdo you reckon I ever got along before your time. Ever figure that out,Al?"
"Now, what's eatin' on old Scotty Douglas, do yuh reckon? That's him,all right. I could tell him on horseback ten mile off. He rides like aMormon."
Tom grunted. His boys, he had long ago discovered, were very apt tofind some excuse for changing the subject whenever he mentioned thepast which had not held their arrogant young selves. Tom resented theattitude of superior wisdom which they were prone to assume. They werepretty smart kids, but if they thought they were smarter than theirdad they sure had a change of heart coming to them.
"Supposin' it is old Scotty. Do you reckon, Al, I've got you along fora guide, to point out what my eyes is getting too poor to see? As forCheyenne," he reverted angrily to the argument, "as for Cheyenne, whenyou've growed to be a man, you'll find it's just as much the mark of afool to go along suspecting everybody as it is to bank on everybody.You think now it's funny to put the Judas brand on every man you don'tknow. It ain't. It's a kid's trick. Boys git that way when they beginto sprout hair under their noses. I been pretty patient with yuh, Al.You're growing up fast, and you're feeling your oats. I makeallowances, all kinds. But by the humpin' hyenas, don't you start intelling me where to head in at with my own outfit! If you do, I'lljest about wear out a willer switch on yuh!"
This to a youth almost old enough to vote was dire insult. Al pulledup his horse. "Run your own outfit and be darned to yuh!" he criedhotly, and spurred off in the direction of the ranch.
Tom laughed shortly and rolled a cigarette. "Thinks now it'll bust upthe round-up if he goes," he opined. "Lucky for my kids I ain't asstrict as my old dad was; they wouldn't have any hide left, Ireckon."
Up loped Aleck Douglas then, riding stiff-legged, his bony elbowsjerking awkwardly with the motion of his horse, a rusty black vestdangling open under his coat which flapped in the wind. That theDouglas wrath rode with him Tom saw from the corner of his eye andgave no sign.
"Hello," said Tom casually and drew a match along the stamped fork ofhis saddle. "You're quite a stranger." He lighted his cigarette,holding his reins lightly in one hand while he did so; gave the reinsa gentle flip to one side and sent his horse after a cow and calf thatshowed symptoms of "breaking back."
"Mister Lorrigan, 'tis aboot a spotted yearlin' that I've come tospeak with ye. I've found the hide of her in the brush beneath yonhill, and the brand is cut from it. But I wad swear to the hide wi'outthe brand. 'Twas a yearlin' I ken weel, Mister Lorrigan." He rodealongside, and his close-set little eyes regarded keenly Tom's face.
"A spotted yearling with the brand cut out, hey? That looks kinda bad.Have you got the hide with you?"
"I have no got the hide wi' me, but I ken weel whaur it lies, MisterLorrigan, and I thinkit so do you."
"Hm-m. You'd ought to of brought it along." Tom's glance went outtoward the herd and the cattle lumbering toward it far and near. "Therange is plumb lousy with spotted yearlings, Scotty. What do youexpect me to do about it?"
The Douglas face worked spasmodically before he spoke. "I expect ye,Mr. Lorrigan, to pay for yon beastie. I ken weel ye could name the monthat stickit the knife in her throat. An' she made fine eatin', I havena doot. But 'tis the law, Mister Lorrigan, that a mon should pay forthe meat he consumes."
"Meaning, of course, that you think I'm feeding Douglas meat to myoutfit. Don't you think you're kinda hasty? I kill a beef about everythree or four days in round-up time. The boys work hard and they eathard. And they eat NL beef, Scotty; don't overlook that fact. Hidesain't worth anything much, but salt's cheap, too. I ain't throwin'away a dollar when it's no trouble to save it. If you're any curiousat all, you ride over to ranch and count all the green hides you canfind. Belle, she'll show 'em to you. Take a look at the brands, andfigure it out yourself, I don't know how many you'll find, but I'llgamble you a dozen cows against one that you'll wonder what went withall the beef that was in them hides. Humpin' hyenas! Ain't I gotcattle enough of my own, without rustlin' off my neighbors?"
"Aye. Ye ha' cattle, Mister Lorrigan; I ken weel ye should no' be putto it for a wee bit meat--but I ken weel yon spotty yearlin' wasmine. I ken ye've been campin' thereabout--and it wad seem, MisterLorrigan, that the salt was no sa plentifu' when the spotty yearlin'was kilt."
The downright foolhardiness of the Douglas wrath held Tom'shand,--though of a truth that hand trembled and crept backward. Norwas Aleck Douglas nearsighted; he saw the movement and his beardedunderlip met his shaven underlip in a straight line.
"Ye do weel to be reachin' for the gun, Mister Lorrigan. I dinna carryaye weapon save the truth."
Tom flushed. "Blame your oatmeal soul, if I reached for my gun, youwouldn't be telling me about it!" he exploded. "Carry the truth, doyuh? You've got to show me where you keep it, then. If you wasn't anold man--and a darn fool on top of that."
"'Tis no brave to cover shame wi' bitter words, Ta
m Lorrigan. 'Tis theway of ye to bluster and bully until the neighbors all are affrightedto face ye and yere ill deeds."
Toward them clattered two riders hotly pursuing a lean, long-leggedsteer with a wide spread of horns and a gift of speed that carried himforging past the disputants. Tom wheeled mechanically and gave chase,leaving the Douglas wrath to wax hotter or to cool if it would. It wasa harsh accusation that Aleck Douglas had made, and that he did makeit seemed to prove that he had what he considered very good evidencethat he was right. Tom was well schooled in troubles of that kind. Hedid not take the matter so indifferently as Douglas believed.
Duke and Mel Wilson, riding hard, came upon Tom just as he had ropedand thrown the steer in a shallow draw that hid them from the levelwhere Aleck Douglas waited.
"Hey!" Tom beckoned them close. "Old Douglas says there's a hide inthe willows this side of Squaw Butte, with the brand cut out; aspotted yearling, and he claims it's his and he can swear to itwithout the brand. I don't know a darn thing about it. Nobody does inthis outfit; I'll stake all I've got on that. But he's on thefight--and a mule's a sheep alongside him when he's got his back up.He left the hide where he found it. Haze this steer and ride overthere and see what there is to his talk. If you find a hide cached inthe willows, put it outa sight. We don't want any rustling scrapsstarted on this range; that's bad medicine always. If he can't produceany hide, he can't start anything but talk--and talk's cheap."
A few moments later they came tearing up out of the draw, the steerrunning strong, the three riders still hotly pursuing. Duke and Melrushed it on to the herd, and Tom dropped out of the race and camealong across to where Douglas wrath had not cooled but had smolderedand waited for the wind of opposition to fan it to flame again.
"Well, you still mournin' over your spotty yearlin'?" Tom called. "Youmust have more time than you know what to do with to-day. Us, we haveto _work_."
"If it's to the round-up ye're going, then I'll ride wi' ye, TomLorrigan. I'm a fair mon and I wush na ill to my neighbors. But Icanna twiddle the thumbs whilst others fare well on Douglas beef."
"You can ride where you please; it's open range. But if you ride tothe herd I'll show you forty yearlings that I'll bet are dead ringersfor the one that you claim was killed. I never seen that hide neither,unless maybe when the critter was using it.
"Now, I don't want any trouble with yuh, Scotty. But I tell yuh rightnow I can't stand for much more of this talk about beef rustling.Thief's a pretty hard word to use to a man's face--and get away withit."
"'Tis a hard mon I'm usin' it tae," the Douglas retorted grimly.
"Braggin' about your nerve, are yuh, Scotty?"
"I have a name, Tam Lorrigan, and 'tisna Scotty." The Douglas facetwisted with anger. "I will no bandy worrds with ye. 'Tis ill I shoulddescend to the level o' them that deespitefully use me."
"Deespitefully!--why, humpin' hyenas! Ain't I letting yuh _live_? Anddo yuh reckon any other man could walk up to me and call me a thiefand live long enough to take it back? Just because you're old, andsuch a blamed fool you go around without a gun on yuh, I'm keepin' myhands off you. I call yuh a coward. You wouldn't a dared to come overhere with a gun on yuh and talk the way you've done. You've got mehog-tied. You know it. And damn yuh, I'll fight yuh now with thelaw--which is the only way a coward will fight.
"You've done a heap of chawin' around about the Lorrigans, Scotty.Don't think I ain't heard it. Maybe it's your religion to backbiteyore neighbors and say what you wouldn't dare to say to their facewith a gun on you so we'd be equal. I've passed it up. I've consideredthe source and let it go. But when you come belly-achin' around aboutme stealin' a spotty yearlin'--jest as if there wasn't but one on theBlack Rim range!--why, damn it, _you'll prove it_! Do you get that?You'll prove it before a jury, or I'll sue yuh for libel and bust yuh.I don't go much on the law, but by Henry, I'll use it on you!"
The Douglas eyes flickered uncertainly, but the Douglas mouth wasunyielding. "The law can no be cheatit so easy, Tam Lorrigan. I hae nowush to send ye tae jail--but ye ken weel that wad be the penalty forkillin' yon beastie in the willows. I came to settle the matter fairbetween neighbors, and tae warn ye to cease your evil doings on therange. I wadna see yer woman come tae grief--"
"You can cut out that mercy talk, Scotty. And don't try to bring Belleinto this. If it comes to a showdown, lemme advise you, you'd bettersidestep Belle. The grief would all be yourn, if you and Belle lockhorns, and I'm telling yuh so."
They had reached the nearest margin of the herd. Cheyenne, a namelessestray from the Wyoming ranges, chanced to be holding herd where thetwo rode up. At him Tom looked, suspicion for the moment sharpeninghis glance.
"You can ask this man what he knows about any spotted hide over bySquaw Butte," he invited the Douglas stiffly. "He's practically astranger to the outfit--been here about a month. Maybe his word'll beworth something to yuh--I dunno. You can ask him."
Douglas rode over to Cheyenne and said what he had to say. Tommeanwhile held the herd and meditated on the petty injustices oflife--perhaps--and wished that a real he-man had come at him the wayDouglas had come. It irked Tom much to be compelled to meet hard wordswith tolerant derision. Toleration was not much of a factor in hislife. But since he must be tolerant, he swung his horse to meet theDouglas when the brief conversation with Cheyenne was over. TheDouglas head was shaking slowly, owning disappointment.
"Well, yuh might as well make the rounds, Scotty. Go on and ask allthe boys. If I asked 'em myself you might think it was a frame-up. Andwhen you've made the rounds, take a look through the herd. The chancesare that you'll find your spotty yearlin' walking around with her hideon her. And when you're plumb through, you make tracks away from myoutfit. My patience is strainin' the buttons right now, looking atyour ugly mug. And lemme tell yuh--and you mark it down in your littlered book so yuh won't forget it--after you've peddled your woes to thehull outfit, you bring in that hide and some proof, or you get down onthem marrow bones and apologize! I'm plumb tired of the way you act."
Aleck Douglas scowled, opened his hard lips to make a bitter answerand reconsidered. He went off instead to interview the men, perhapsthinking that adroit questioning might reveal a weak point somewherein their denial.
Tom rode over to Cheyenne. "Scotty's got his war clothes on," heobserved carelessly.
"Shore has," Cheyenne grinned. "But that's all right. He didn't makenothin' off me. I never give him any satisfaction at all."
Tom's brows pulled together. "Well, now, if you know anything aboutany hide with the brand cut out, you'd better come through,Cheyenne."
"I never said I knowed anything about it. I guess mebby that's why Icouldn't give him no satisfaction." Cheyenne still grinned, but hedid not meet Tom's eyes.
"You spoke kinda queer for a man who don't know nothing, Cheyenne. Didyuh think mebby it wasn't all NL beef you been eating?"
"Why, no. I never meant anything like that at all. I only said--"
"Straight talk don't need no explainin', Cheyenne. The Devil's Toothoutfit shore likes the taste of its own beef. If any man fails toagree with that, I want him to speak up right now."
Cheyenne pinched out the fire in his cigarette and flipped the stubaway from him. He did not look at Tom when he said:
"NL beef shore suits me. I don't know about any other brand. I ain'tet none to judge by."
"You bet your life you ain't," snapped Tom, as he turned away. "Whenyou sample another brand you won't be drawin' wages with thisoutfit."
He rode away to the wagon, where a fire was already burning and thebranding irons heating. Cheyenne, with his hat pulled down over hisforehead so that he looked out from under the brim that shaded hisface, watched Tom queerly, a corner of his lips lifted in a half smilethat was not pleasant.