CHAPTER II
A BLUFF CALLED
The Quarter Circle KT was a womanless ranch. Came now, like a bolt fromthe clear sky or the sudden clang of a fire-alarm bell, the threat ofviolation of this Eveless Eden by the intrusion of a pair of strange andunknown females. The arrival of the telegram telling of the coming ofCarolyn June Dixon, Old Heck's niece, and Ophelia Cobb, her chaperon,filled with varying emotions the hearts of Old Heck, Parker and thecowboys.
To Old Heck their presence meant nothing less than calamity. Long yearsof he-man association had made him dread the petty restraints heimagined would be imposed by intimate contact with womankind. Good lord,a man wouldn't be able even to cuss freely, and without embarrassment,with a couple of women in the house and prowling around the ranch!
Skinny, Bert, Chuck, Pedro, Charley, the Ramblin' Kid, even the Chinkcook and Parker, quivered with excitement and curiosity behind thinlyveiled pretense of fear and horror. Secretly they rejoiced. It wasmarvelous news borne by the telegram Skinny brought. Here would bediversion ample, unusual, wholly worth while and filled withpossibilities of romance as luring as the first glimpse of a strange newland shadowed with mystery and promise of thrilling adventure.
Sing Pete paddled back to the unfinished business of the kitchen,chattering excitedly. The cowboys stood mutely and stared at Old Heckand the fatal slip of yellow paper.
"What'll I do?" Old Heck asked the group despairingly. "They'll ruineverything."
"Can't you head 'em off, somehow?" Parker suggested.
"Can't be done. They're already on their way and probably somewhere thisside of Kansas City by now."
"Find out which train they're on and let the Ramblin' Kid and me cutacross to the Purgatory River bridge and wreck it," Skinny Rawlins,always tragic, darkly advised.
"I ain't particular about killin' females," the Ramblin' Kid objected,"besides, we ain't got no dynamite."
"Send them a telegram and say Old Heck's dead and not to come," BertLilly volunteered.
"Aw, you blamed idiot, they'd come anyhow then, just to attend thefuneral--"
"I got an idea," Chuck Slithers exclaimed; it's a telegram too. Sendthem one C.O.D. in care of the train that will get to Eagle Butte thetwenty-first and tell them we've all got the smallpox and we're sorrybut everybody's dangerously sick and to please answer!"
"That might work," Parker said; "they'd be mighty near sure not to wantto catch it."
"We'll try it," Old Heck agreed. "Chuck wants to ride over to EagleButte anyway and he can have the depot agent send it and wait for areply."
"Go get your horse ready, Chuck," Parker said, "we'll write it whileyou're saddlin' up!"
Chuck hurried to the corral while Old Heck went into the house forpencil and writing-paper. Parker and the cowboys moved in a group to theshade of the porch in front of the house.
"What'll we tell them?" Old Heck asked, reappearing with writingmaterials. "Here, Parker, you write it."
"Dear niece Carolyn June Dixon and Chaperon: Sorry, but there's anepidemic of smallpox at the Quarter Circle KT and you can't come. Chuckis dying with it. Old Heck's plumb prostrated, Bert is already brokeout, Pedro is starting to and Skinny Rawlins and the Ramblin' Kid arejust barely able to be up. I love you too much to want you to catch it.Please go back to Hartville and give my regards to your pa and don'texpose yourself. Answer by return telegram so I'll know your intentions.Affectionately and absolutely your Uncle Josiah Heck," Parker read afterwriting a few moments. "How's that?"
"Sounds all right."
"Got it ready?" Chuck called from the fence, while Silver Tip, thetrim-built half-blood Hambletonian colt he was riding, reared andpranced, eager for the road and a run.
"For lord's sake hurry up, Chuck," Old Heck yelled as the Ramblin' Kidhanded the paper to Chuck and the cowboy whirled his horse into a galloptoward Eagle Butte. "Have the agent send it in care of whatever trainthey might be on and get an answer, then come back as quick as possible--waiting is agony!"
It was a long afternoon for Old Heck and the cowboys of the QuarterCircle KT. A band of colts were in the circular corral to be gentled torope, saddle and hackamore. Old Heck sat on the top pole of the corraland moodily watched the struggle of the men and horses in the dry, dustyenclosure as one by one each young broncho was roped, saddled andridden. Frequently he turned longing eyes toward Eagle Butte, anxiousfor sight of the cloud of dust from which Chuck would emerge bringing,he hoped, word that Carolyn June and Ophelia Cobb had heeded themisleading message.
The sun crept across the western sky and dropped lower and lower untilit hung at last, a blazing disk of fire, close above the highest peaksof the Costejo mountain range. The poplars in front of the house flungslim black shadows across the low adobe buildings and splashed the tipof their shade in the dust-cloud that filled with haze the corral ahundred yards away. Sing Pete stepped from the door and beat a tattoo onthe iron triangle suspended by a piece of wire from the lowest branch ofa mesquit tree at the corner of the house, announcing by the metallicclamor that the work of the day was finished and supper was ready andwaiting. Parker swung back the heavy gate at the corral entrance and thedozen colts, sweat streaks on heads and backs and bellies wherehackamore, saddle and cinches told of the lessons of the afternoon,pushing and jamming and with a clatter of hoofs, whirled out to freedom,around the stable and down a lane into an open meadow.
Kicking off their chaps the cowboys tossed them on the riding gear,piled already against the fence of the corral, and straggled stifflytoward the house. On the wire enclosing the back yard Sing Pete had hunga couple of heavy towels, coarse and long. Some basins and severalchunks of yellow laundry soap were on a bench beside an irrigation ditchthat ran along the fence just inside the gate. Old Heck, Parker and thecowboys stopped at the ditch, pitched their hats on the grass anddipping water from the ditch scoured the dust and sweat from their facesand hands.
All were silent as if each was troubled with thoughts too solemn to bespoken aloud.
At last, Skinny, handing a towel to Bert after drying his ownsun-tanned face and hands, remarked inanely:
"Chuck ain't come, has he?"
"Slupper!" Sing Pete called.
They filed into the kitchen and each took his regular place at the long,oilcloth covered table. The food, wholesome, plain and abundant, wasalready served.
Silently each heaped his plate with the viands before him while SingPete circled the table pouring coffee into the white porcelain cups. TheQuarter Circle KT was famous for the excellence of its grub and theChink was an expert cook.
"Lordy, oh, lordy," Old Heck groaned, "it don't seem possible them womenare coming!"
"Maybe they won't," Parker sympathized. "When they get that telegramthey ought to turn around and go back--"
"Chuck's coming!" Bert Lilly exclaimed at that moment and the sound of ahorse stopping suddenly at the front of the house reached the ears ofthe group at the table.
"Go ask him if he got an answer, somebody, quick!" Old Heck cried.
As Charley Saunders sprang to his feet Chuck yelled, "They got it andsent an answer! I got one--" and rushed excitedly through the house andinto the kitchen waving an envelope, twin to the one Skinny had broughtearlier in the day. "They're on Train Number Seventeen, the agentsaid--"
"My Gawd!" Old Heck gasped, "what does it say? Give it here!" reachingfor the message the cowboy held in his hand.
"Good lord, it didn't work!" he groaned as he read the telegram andhanded it across the table to Parker.
"Read it out loud," several spoke at once.
"'We've both had it,'" Parker read, "'and are not afraid. Anyhow wethink you are a darned old lovable liar. Will arrive according toschedule. If you are not a liar we'll nurse you back to health andhappiness. If you are, watch out! Your affectionate but suspiciouslittle niece Carolyn June Dixon. Postscript: Are there any nice wild,untamed, young cowboys out there?--Carolyn J.'"
"Hell-fire!" Skinny said, "what'll we do?"
No ans
wer. Chuck went moodily out to attend to his horse, and the mealwas finished in silence. Even Sing Pete seemed deeply depressed. Aftersupper Old Heck straightened up and in a do-or-die tone said:
"We'll all go out where it's cool and hold a caucus and figure whatought to be done."
"There ain't nothing we can do but surrender, as far as I can see,"Parker observed gloomily as they gathered on the porch in front of thehouse. "They seem plumb determined to arrive--"
"I've already give up hope," Old Heck answered, "but what will we dowith them when they get here? We can't just brand 'em and turn themloose on the range."
"I make a motion we elect Skinny to ride herd on 'em!" Bert Lillysuggested.
"Damned if I do!" Skinny exclaimed uneasily.
"It's a good idea," Parker said. "From all accounts the young oneexpects to be made love to and if she ain't she'll probably be weepingaround all the time--"
"Well, I can't stand sobbin'!" Old Heck declared. "Any female is hardenough to endure and one that gets to mourning is plumb distasteful!
"That's probably the best thing to do," he continued, "just appointSkinny to be official love-maker to Carolyn June while she's at theQuarter Circle KT. It will probably save confusion--"
"I brought the telegram telling about them coming and I've done myshare," Skinny protested; "somebody else can be delegated to do thelove-making!"
"That's just the reason it ought to be your job," Old Heck argued; "youwent and got the telegram in the first place and are sort of responsiblefor them being here."
"Aw, let th' Ramblin' Kid do it," Skinny pleaded, "he's an easy talkerand everything--"
The Ramblin' Kid straightened up and started for the gate.
"Where you going?"
"To catch Capt'n Jack," he drawled; "after that for a little ride downto th' Pecos or over in Chihuahua somewhere a couple hundred miles. Idecline with enthusiasm to fall in love on th' spur of th' moment forany damned outfit!"
"You come on back," Parker called, "Skinny'll have to do it. He can haveall his time for it and just pretend he's in love and sort of entertainher. He don't need to go and do it in earnest. Come on back, you darnedchump, I need you on the beef hunt!"
"What'll I have to do?" Skinny asked cautiously.
"Just set on the front porch with her at night and make your eyes rollup like a calf's that's being branded and kind of sigh heart-broken oncein a while," Bert volunteered. "It'll be easy when you get used to it--"
"If you know so much about it why don't you enlist yourself?" Skinnyasked irritably. "Some of you fellows go on and volunteer," he pleadeddolefully.
"I would in a minute," Chuck chipped in, "if I was good-looking likeSkinny and had a white shirt--"
"What's a white shirt got to do with it?"
"Listen to the innocent child," Chuck laughed, "as if any darned fooldidn't know that the first thing a professional love-maker has to haveis a white shirt!"
"That settles it," Skinny declared with emphasis, "I won't wear a whiteshirt to make love to no blamed woman--"
"Chuck's locoed," the Ramblin' Kid interposed; "you don't need to haveno white shirt--of course it would be better but it ain't downrightnecessary--women don't fall in love with shirts, it's what's inside ofthem."
"Where did you find out so much about women?" Bert queried.
"I didn't find out--I'm just guessin'--"
"There ain't no use arguing," Old Heck broke in. "Skinny will have to beexpert love-maker for that Carolyn June niece of mine--I'll allow himten dollars a month more wages while he's doing it. I ain't going tohave her writing letters to her pa and telling him she didn't have noconveniences or nothing. Anyhow, she's young and I reckon it's sort ofnecessary."
"What about th' other one--Ophelia Cobb or whoever she is?" Bert Lillyasked.
"She's past the age for it, probably," Parker said uneasily.
"They don't pass it," the Ramblin' Kid interrupted laconically; "whenfemales get too old to want to be made love to they die--"
"I'd like to know where in hell a juvenile like you got your educationabout women!" Bert insisted to the Ramblin' Kid.
"I ain't got none--I'm just guessing I told you," the other replied,"but it's the truth, anyhow."
"Well, if I've got to make love to the young one Old Heck or Parker orsomebody's got to do it for the other one," Skinny declared positively.
"Ophelia don't need it," Old Heck said hastily, "she's a widow and hasdone been--"
"Widows are th' worst," the Ramblin' Kid drawled; "they've hadexperience an' don't like to give it up."
"Th' Ramblin' Kid's right," Chuck broke in. "I read a book once thatsaid that's the way they are. It's up to Old Heck or Parker to representCupid to the widow--"
"Who the hell's Cupid?" Skinny asked curiously.
"He's a dangerous little outlaw that ain't got no reg'lar range," theRamblin' Kid answered for Chuck.
"I'll not do it--" Old Heck and Parker spoke at once.
"Then I won't either," Skinny declared flatly, "I'll quit the dog-gonedQuarter Circle KT first!"
"Let Sing Pete make love to the widow," Bert suggested.
"No, no! Me busy cookee," Sing Pete, who had been listening from theopen doorway, jabbered and darted, frightened, back into the house.
"Anyhow I'd kill him if he did," the Ramblin' Kid said softly; "nodarned Chink can make love to a white woman, old, young or indifferent,in my presence an' live!"
"Well, Old Heck'll have to do it, then," Skinny said; "hanged if I'mgoing to be the only he-love-maker on this ranch!"
"Let Parker and Old Heck divide up on Ophelia," Chuck advised, "one ofthem can love her one day and the other the next--"
"That's reasonable," Bert declared, "she'd probably enjoy a changeherself."
"I tell you I ain't got time," Parker protested.
"Neither have I," Old Heck added.
"All right then, I ain't either!" Skinny declared. "If you two ain'twilling to take turn about with the widow and love her off and onbetween you I'll be everlastingly hell-tooted if I'm going to stand fora whole one by myself all of the time! I'll go on strike first and startright now!"
"We'll stay with you, Skinny," the Ramblin' Kid exclaimed with a laugh,"th' whole bunch will quit till Parker an' Old Heck grants our demands."
"We'll all quit!" the cowboys chorused.
"Oh, well, Parker," Old Heck grumbled, "I reckon we'll have to do it!"
"It won't be hard work," the Ramblin' Kid said consolingly, "all you gotto do is set still an' leave it to Ophelia. Widows are expertlove-makers themselves an' know how to keep things goin'!"
It was settled. Skinny Rawlins, at an increase of ten dollars a month onhis wage, protestingly, was elected official love-maker to Carolyn JuneDixon, Old Heck's niece, speeding unsuspectingly toward the QuarterCircle KT, and Old Heck and Parker between them were to divide theaffections of Ophelia Cobb, widow and chaperon.
In the mind of every cowboy on the ranch there was one thoughtunexpressed but very insistent that night, "Wonder what She looks like?"thinking, of course, of Carolyn June.
Old Heck and Parker also were disturbed by a common worry. As each sankinto fitful sleep, thinking of Ophelia Cobb, the widow, and his ownpredestinated affinity he murmured:
"What if she insists on getting married?"