The Texan Page 3

  CHAPTER II

  WOLF RIVER

  A uniformed flagman, with his flag and a handful of torpedoes swungfrom the platform and started up the track.

  "What's the trouble up in front?" asked the girl as Endicott assistedher to the ground.

  "Cloud busted back in the mountains, an' washed out the trussle, an'Second Seventy-six piled up in the river."

  "Oh, a wreck?" she exclaimed. "Will we have time to go up and see it?"

  "I'd say it's a wreck," grinned the trainman. "An' you've got all thetime you want. We're a-goin' to pull in on the sidin' an' let thewrecker an' bridge crew at it. But even with 'em a-workin' from bothends it'll be tomorrow sometime 'fore they c'n get them box cars drugout an' a temp'ry trussle throw'd acrost."

  "What town is this?"

  "Town! Call it a town if you want to. It's Wolf River. It's ashippin' point fer cattle, but it hain't no more a town 'n what thecrick's a river. The trussle that washed out crosses the crick justabove where it empties into Milk River. I've railroaded through heregoin' on three years an' I never seen no water in it to speak ofbefore, an' mostly it's plumb dry."

  The man sauntered slowly up the track as one who performs a merelynominal duty, and the girl turned to follow Endicott. "It would havebeen easier to walk through the train," he ventured, as he picked hisway over the rough track ballast.

  "Still seeking the line of least resistance," mocked the girl. "We canwalk through a train any time. But we can't breathe air like this,and, see,--through that gap--the blue of the distant mountains!"

  The man removed his hat and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief."It's awfully hot, and I have managed to secrete a considerable portionof the railroad company's gravel in my shoes."

  "Don't mind a little thing like that," retorted the girl sweetly."I've peeled the toes of both of mine. They look like they had scarletfever."

  Passengers were alighting all along the train and hurrying forward tojoin those who crowded the scene of the wreck.

  "It was a narrow escape for us," said Endicott as the two looked downupon the mass of broken cars about which the rapidly falling waters ofthe stream gurgled and swirled. "Had we not been running an hour latethis train would in all probability, have plunged through the trestle."

  "Was anybody hurt?" asked the girl. The train conductor nodded towardthe heap of debris.

  "No'm, the crew jumped. The fireman an' head brakeman broke a legapiece, an' the rest got bunged up a little; but they wasn't no onehurt.

  "I was just tellin' these folks," he continued, "that they'll be atrain along on the other side in a couple of hours for to transfer thepassengers an' mail."

  The girl turned to Endicott. "There isn't much to see here," she said."Let's look around. It's such a funny little town. I want to buysomething at the store. And, there's a livery stable! Maybe we canhire horses and ride out where we can get a view of the mountains."

  As the two turned toward the little cluster of frame buildings, a tall,horse-faced man clambered onto the pilot of the passenger locomotiveand, removing his hat, proceeded to harangue the crowd. As they pausedto listen Alice stared in fascination at the enormous Adam's apple thatworked, piston-like above the neckband of the collarless shirt of vividchecks.

  "Ladies an' gents," he began, with a comprehensive wave of thesoft-brimmed hat. "Wolf River welcomes you in our town. An' whileyou're amongst us we aim to show you one an' all a good time. Thishere desastorious wreck may turn out to be a blessin' in disguise. Asthe Good Book says, it come at a most provincial time. Wolf River,ladies an' gents, is celebratin', this afternoon an' evenin', a eventthat marks an' epykak in our historious career: The openin' of the WolfRiver Citizen's Bank, a reg'lar bonyfido bank with vaults, cashier, an'a board of directors consistin' of her leadinist citizens, with theHonorable Mayor Maloney president, which I introdoose myself as.

  "In concludin' I repeet that this here is ondoubtfully the luckiestwreck in the lives of any one of you, which it gives you aunpressagented chanct to see with your own eyes a hustlin' Western townthat hain't ashamed to stand on her own legs an' lead the world alongthe trail to prosperity.

  "Wolf River hain't a braggin' town, ladies an' gents, but I defy anyone of you to name another town that's got more adjacent an' contigitusterritory over which to grow onto. We freely admit they's a fewonconsequential improvements which is possessed by some bigger an' morenotorious cities such as sidewalks, sewers, street-gradin', an' lightsthat we hain't got yet. But Wolf River is a day an' night town, ladiesan' gents, combinin' business with pleasure in just the rightperportion, which it's plain to anyone that takes the trouble toinvestigate our shippin' corrals, four general stores, one _ho_tel, an'seven saloons, all of which runs wide open twenty-four hours a day an'is accommodated with faro, roulette, an' poker outfits fer the benefitof them that's so inclined to back their judgment with a little money.

  "In concloodin' I'll say that owin' to the openin' of the bank aboutwhich I was tellin' you of, Wolf River is holdin' the followin'programme which it's free to everyone to enter into or to look on at.

  "They'll be a ropin' contest, in which some of our most notoriousropers will rope, throw, an' hog-tie a steer, in the least shortness oftime. The prizes fer this here contest is: First prize, ten dollars,doneated by the directors of the bank fer which's openin' thiscelebration is held in honour of. Second prize, one pair of pantsdoneated by the Montana Mercantile Company. Third prize, one quart ofbottle in bond whiskey doneated by our pop'lar townsman an' leadin'citizen, Mr. Jake Grimshaw, proprietor of The Long Horn Saloon.

  "The next contest is a buckin' contest, in which some of our mostnotorious riders will ride or get bucked offen some of our most fameousoutlaw horses. The prizes fer this here contest is: First, a pair ofangory chaps, doneated by the directors of the bank about which I havespoke of before. Second prize, a pair of spurs doneated by the WolfRiver Tradin' Company. Third prize, a coffin that was ordered by SamLong's wife from the Valley Outfittin' Company, when Sam had theapendiceetis of the stummick, an' fer which Sam refused to pay fer whenhe got well contrary to expectations.

  "Both these here contests is open to ladies an' gents, both of which isinvited to enter. They will also be hoss racin', fancy an' trickridin', an' shootin', fer all of which sootable prizes has be'npervided, as well as fer the best lookin' man an' the homliest lady an'vicy versy. Any lady or gent attendin' these here contests will begave out a ticket good fer one drink at any saloon in town. Thesedrinks is on the directors of the bank of which I have before referredto.

  "An', ladies an' gents, in concloodin' I'll say that that hain't all!Follerin' these here contests, after each an' every lady an' gent hashad time to git their drink they'll be a supper dished out at the_ho_otel fer which the directors of the bank of which you have alreadyheard mention of has put up fifty cents a plate. This here supper isas free as gratis to all who care to percipitate an' which willincloode a speech by the Honorable Mayor Maloney, part of which I havealready spoke, but will repeat fer the benefit of them that hain't here.

  "Followin' the supper a dance will be pulled off in Curly Hardee'sdance-hall, the music fer which will be furnished by some of our mostnotorious fiddlers incloodin' Mrs. Slim Maloney, wife of the HonorableMayor Maloney, who will lead the grand march, an' who I consider one ofthe top pyanoists of Choteau County, if not in the hull United States.It is a personal fact ladies an' gents, that I've heard her set down toa pyano an' play _Old Black Joe_ so natural you'd swear it was _HomeSweet Home_. An' when she gits het up to it, I'll promise she'llloosen up an' tear off some of the liveliest music any one of you'sever shook a leg to.

  "An' now, ladies an' gents, you can transfer an' go on when the trainpulls in on t'other side, or yon can stay an' enjoy yourselves amongstus Wolf River folks an' go on tomorrow when the trussle gits fixed----"

  "Ye-e-e-e-o-o-w! W-h-e-e-e-e."

  Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang! A chorus of wild yells, afusillade of
shots, and the thud of horses' hoofs close at hand drewall eyes toward the group of riders that, spreading fan-like over theflat that lay between the town and the railway, approached at top speed.

  "The cowboys is comin'! Them's the Circle J," cried the Mayor."Things'll lively up a bit when the T U an' the I X an' the Bear PawPool boys gits in." The cowboys were close, now, and the laughing,cheering passengers surged back as the horses swerved at full speedwith the stirrups of their riders almost brushing the outermost rank ofthe crowd. A long thin rope shot out, a loop settled gently about theshoulders of the Mayor of Wolf River, and a cowhorse stopped soabruptly that a cloud of alkali dust spurted up and settled in a greypowder over the clothing of the assembled passengers.

  "Come on, Slim, an' give these folks a chance to get their second windwhile you let a little licker into that system of yours."

  The Mayor grinned; "Tex Benton, hain't you had no bringin' up whatever?That was a pretty throw but it's onrespectable, no mor'n what it'srespectable to call the Mayor of a place by his first name to a publicmeetin'."

  "I plumb ferget myself, your Honour," laughed the cowpuncher as hecoiled his rope. "Fact is, I learnt to rope mares back in Texas, an' Iain't----"

  "Yip-e-i-e!"

  "Ropin' mares!" The cowboys broke into a coyote chorus that drownedthe laughter of the crowd.

  "The drinks is on me!" sputtered the Mayor, when he was able to makehimself heard. "Jest you boys high-tail over to the Long Horn an' I'llbe along d'rectly." He turned once more to the crowd of passengers.

  "Come on, gents, an' have a drink on me. An' the ladies is welcome,too. Wolf River is broad in her idees. We hain't got no sexualrestrictions, an' a lady's got as good a right to front a bar an'nominate her licker as what a man has."

  Standing beside Endicott upon the edge of the crowd Alice Marcum hadenjoyed herself hugely. The little wooden town with its high fencedcattle corrals, and its row of one story buildings that faced thealkali flat had interested her from the first, and she had joined withhearty goodwill in the rounds of applause that at frequent intervalshad interrupted the speech of the little town's Mayor. A bornhorsewoman, she had watched with breathless admiration the onrush ofthe loose-rein riders--the graceful swaying of their bodies, and theflapping of soft hat brims, as their horses approached with a thunderof pounding hoofs. Her eyes had sparkled at the reckless swerving ofthe horses when it seemed that the next moment the back-surging crowdwould be trampled into the ground. She had wondered at the precisionwith which the Texan's loop fell; and had joined heartily in thelaughter that greeted the ludicrous and red-faced indignation withwhich a fat woman had crawled from beneath a coach whither she hadsought refuge from the onrush of thundering hoofs.

  In the mind of the girl, cowboys had always been associated with motionpicture theatres, where concourses of circus riders in impossibleregalia performed impossible feats of horsemanship in the unravellingof impossible plots. She had never thought of them as real--or, if shehad, it was as a vanished race, like the Aztec and the buffalo.

  But here were real cowboys in the flesh: Open-throated, bronzed man,free and unrestrained as the air they breathed--men whose veryappearance called to mind boundless open spaces, purple sage, bluemountains, and herds of bellowing cattle. Here were men bound by nopetty and meaningless conventions--men the very sight of whom served tostimulate and intensify the longing to see for herself the land beyondthe valley rims--to slip into a saddle and ride, and ride, and ride--tofeel the beat of the rain against her face, and the whip of the wind,and the burning rays of the sun, and at night to lie under the winkingstars and listen to the howl of the coyotes.

  "Disgusting rowdies!" wheezed the fat woman as, dishevelled andperspiring, she waddled toward the steps of her coach; while the Mayor,his Adam's apple fairly pumping importance, led a sturdy band ofthirsters recruited from among the train passengers across the flattoward a building over the door of which was fixed a pair of horns ofprodigious spread. Lest some pilgrim of erring judgment should mistakethe horns for short ones, or misapprehend the nature of the businessconducted within, the white false front of the building proclaimed inletters of black a foot high: LONG HORN SALOON. While beneath thelegend was depicted a fat, vermilion clad cowboy mounted upon atarantula-bodied, ass-eared horse of pink, in the act of hurling acable-like rope which by some prodigy of dexterity was made to describethree double-bows and a latigo knot before its loop managed to poise inmid-air above the head of a rabbit-sized baby-blue steer whose hornsexceeded in length the pair of Texas monstrosities that graced thedoorway.

  "We're goin' to back onto the sidin' now," announced the conductor,"where dinner will be served in the dinin' car as ushool."

  The cowboys had moved along to view the wreck and were grouped aboutthe broken end of the trestle where they lolled in their saddles, somewith a leg thrown carelessly about the horn and others lying back overthe cantle, while the horses which a few moments before had dashedacross the common at top speed now stood with lowered heads anddrooping ears, dreaming cayuse dreams.

  The engine bell was ringing monotonously and the whistle sounded threeshort blasts, while the passengers clambered up the steps of thecoaches or backed away from the track.

  "Let's walk to the side track, it's only a little way."

  Alice pointed to where the flagman stood beside the open switch.Endicott nodded acquiescence and as he turned to follow, the girl'shandkerchief dropped from her hand and, before it touched the ground,was caught by a gust of wind that swept beneath the coaches and whirledout onto the flat where it lay, a tiny square of white against thetrampled buffalo grass.

  Endicott started to retrieve it, but before he had taken a half-dozensteps there was a swift pounding of hoofs and two horses shot out fromthe group of cowboys and dashed at full speed, their riders low in thesaddle and each with his gaze fixed on the tiny bit of white fabric.Nose and nose the horses ran, their hoofs raising a cloud of whitealkali dust in their wake. Suddenly, just as they reached thehandkerchief, the girl who watched with breathless interest gasped.The saddles were empty! From the madly racing horses her glance flewto the cloud of dust which concealed the spot where a moment before hadlain that little patch of white. Her fingers clenched as she steeledherself to the sight of the two limp, twisted forms that the liftingdust cloud must reveal. Scarcely daring to wink she fixed her eyesupon the ground--but the dust cloud had drifted away and there were nolimp, twisted forms. Even the little square of white was gone. Inbewilderment she heard cries of approval and loud shouts of applausefrom the passengers. Once more her ears caught the sound of poundinghoofs, and circling toward her in a wide curve were the two riders,erect and firm in their saddles, as a gauntleted hand held high afluttering scrap of white.

  The horses brought up directly before her, a Stetson was swept from athick shock of curly black hair, the gauntleted hand extended therecalcitrant handkerchief, and she found herself blushing furiously forno reason at all beneath the direct gaze of a pair of very black eyesthat looked out from a face tanned to the colour of old mahogany.

  "Oh, thank you! It was splendid--the horsemanship." She stammered."I've seen it in the movies, but I didn't know it was actually done inreal life."

  "Yes, mom, it is. It's owin' to the horse yeh've got, an' yer cinch.Yeh'll see a heap better'n that this afternoon right on this here flat.An' would yeh be layin' over fer the dance tonight, mom?"

  The abrupt question was even more disconcerting than the compellingdirectness of his gaze.

  For an instant, the girl hesitated as her eyes swept from thecowpuncher's face to the brilliant scarf loosely knotted about histhroat, the blue flannel shirt, the bright yellow angora chaps againstwhich the ivory butt of a revolver showed a splotch of white, and theboots jammed into the broad wooden stirrups, to their high heels fromwhich protruded a pair of enormously rowelled spurs inlaid with silver.By her side Endicott moved impatiently and cleared his throat.

  She answered without hesitation. "Yes
, I think I shall."

  "I'd admire fer a dance with yeh, then," persisted the cowpuncher.

  "Why--certainly. That is, if I really decide to stay."

  "We'll try fer to show yeh a good time, mom. They'll be some rightlively fiddlin', an' she don't bust up till daylight."

  With a smile the girl glanced toward the other rider who sat with anair of tolerant amusement. She recognized him as the man calledTex--the one who had so deftly dropped his loop over the shoulders ofthe Mayor, and noted that, in comparison with the other, he presentedrather a sorry appearance. The heels of his boots were slightly runover. His spurs were of dingy steel and his leather chaps, laced upthe sides with rawhide thongs looked as though they had seen muchservice. The scarf at his throat, however, was as vivid as hiscompanion's and something in the flash of the grey eyes that lookedinto hers from beneath the broad brim of the Stetson caused aninexplicable feeling of discomfort. Their gaze held a suspicion ofveiled mockery, and the clean cut lips twisted at their comers into thesemblance of a cynical, smiling sneer.

  "I want to thank you, too," she smiled, "it wasn't your fault yourfriend----"

  "Jack Purdy's my name, mom," interrupted the other, importantly.

  "--that Mr. Purdy beat you, I am sure. And are you always as accurateas when you lassoed the honourable Mayor of Wolf River?"

  "I always get what I go after--sometimes," answered the man meeting hergaze with a flash of the baffling grey eyes. A subtle something, inlook or words, seemed a challenge. Instinctively she realized thatdespite his rough exterior here was a man infinitely less crude thanthe other. An ordinary cowpuncher, to all appearance, andyet--something in the flash of the eyes, the downward curve of thecorners of the lips aroused the girl's interest. He was speaking again:

  "I'll dance with you, too--if you stay. But I won't mortgage none ofyour time in advance." The man's glance shifted deliberately from thegirl to Endicott and back to the girl again. Then, without waiting forher to reply, he whirled his horse and swung off at top speed to jointhe other cowpunchers who were racing in the wake of the Mayor.