The Lonesome Trail and Other Stories Read online

  THE LAMB

  When came the famine in stock-cars on the Montana Central, and theFlying U herd had grazed for two days within five miles of Dry Lake,waiting for the promised train of empties, Chip Bennett, latelypromoted foreman, felt that he had trouble a-plenty. When,short-handed as he was, two of his cowboys went a-spreeing anda-leisuring in town, with their faces turned from honest toil and theirhands manipulating pairs and flushes and face-cards, rather than good"grass" ropes, he was positive that his cup was dripping trouble allround the rim.

  The delinquents were not "top hands," it is true. They--the HappyFamily, of which Jim Whitmore was inordinately proud--would soonerforswear their country than the Flying U. But even two transients ofvery ordinary ability are missed when they suddenly vanish in shippingtime, and Chip, feeling keenly his responsibilities, rode disgustedlyinto town to reclaim the recreants or pay them off and hire others intheir places.

  With his temper somewhat roughened by the agent's report that no carswere yet on the way, he clanked into Rusty Brown's place after hisdeserters. One was laid blissfully out in the little back room,breathing loudly, dead to the world and the exigencies of life; himChip passed up with a snort of disgust. The other was sitting in acorner, with his hat balanced precariously over his left ear, gazingsuperciliously upon his fellows and, incidentally, winning everythingin sight. He leered up at Chip and fingered ostentatiously his threestacks of blues.

  "What'n thunder do I want to go t' camp for?" he demanded, in answer toChip's suggestion. "Forty dollars a month following your trail don'tlook good t' me no more. I'm four hundred dollars t' the good sencelast night, and takin' all comers. Good money's just fallin' my way.I don't guess I hanker after any more night guardin', thank ye."

  "Suit yourself," said Chip coldly, and turned away.

  Argument was useless and never to his liking. The problem now was tofind two men who could take their places, and that was not so easilysolved. A golden-haired, pink-cheeked, blue-eyed young fellow indainty silk negligee, gray trousers, and russet leather belt, with apanama hat and absurdly small tan shoes, followed him outside.

  "If you're looking for men," he announced musically, "I'm open forengagements."

  Chip looked down at him tolerantly. "Much obliged, but I'm not gettingup a garden-party," he informed him politely, and took a step. He wasnot in the mood to find amusement in the situation.

  The immaculate one showed some dimples that would have been distractingin the face of a woman. "And I ain't looking for a job leading cows towater," he retorted. "Yuh shouldn't judge a man by his clothes,old-timer."

  "I don't--a man!" said Chip pointedly. "Run away and play. I'll tellyou what, sonny, I'm not running a kindergarten. Every man I hire hasgot man's work to do. Wait till you're grown up; as it is, you'd lastquick on round-up, and that's a fact."

  "Oh! it is, eh? Say, did yuh ever hear uh old Eagle Creek Smith, ofthe Cross L, or Rowdy Vaughan, or a fellow up on Milk River they callPink?"

  "I'd tell a man!" Chip turned toward him again. "At least I've heardof Eagle Creek Smith, and of Pink--bronco-fighter, they say, and alittle devil. Why?"

  The immaculate one lifted his panama, ran his fingers through hiscurls, and smiled demurely. "Nothing in particular--only, I'm Pink!"

  Chip stared frankly, and measured the slender figure from accuratelydented hat-crown to tiny shoe-tips. "Well, yuh sure don't look it," hesaid bluntly, at length. "Why that elaborate disguise ofrespectability?"

  Pink sat him down on an empty beer case in the shade of the saloon anddaintily rolled a cigarette.

  "Yuh see, it's like this," he began, in his soft voice. "When theCross L moved their stock across the line Rowdy Vaughan had charge uhthe outfit; and, seeing we're pretty good friends, uh course I wentalong. I hadn't been over there a month till I had occasion t' thumpthe daylights out uh one uh them bone-headed grangers that vitiates theatmosphere up there; and I put him all to the bad. So a bunch uh themgaudy buck-policemen rose up and fogged me back across the line; a manhas sure got t' turn the other cheek up there, or languish in _ga_-ol."

  Pink brought the last word out as if it did not taste good.

  "I hit for the home range, which is Upper Milk River. But it wascussed lonesome with all the old bunch gone; so I sold my outfit andquit cow-punching for good. I wonder if the puncher lives that didn'tsell his saddle and bed, and reform at least once in his checkeredcareer!

  "I had a fair-sized roll so I took the home trail back to Minnesota,and chewed on the fatted calf all last winter and this summer. Itwasn't bad, only the girls run in bunches and are dead anxious to tieup to some male human. I dubbed around and dodged the loop long as Icould stand it, and then I drifted.

  "I kinda got hungry for the feel of a good horse between m' legs oncemore. It made me mad to see houses on every decent bed-ground, andfences so thick yuh couldn't get out and fan the breeze if yuh tried.I tell yuh straight, old-timer, last month I was home I plumb wore outmother's clothes-line roping the gate-post. For the Lord's sake, stakeme to a string! and I don't give a damn how rough a one it is!"

  Chip sat down on a neighboring case and regarded the dapper littlefigure curiously. Such words, coming from those girlishly rosy lips,with the dimples dodging in and out of his pink cheeks, had an oddeffect of unreality. But Pink plainly was in earnest. His eyes behindthe dancing light of harmless deviltry, were pleading and wistful as achild.

  "You're it!" said Chip relievedly. "You can go right to work. Seemsyou're the man I've been looking for, only I will say I didn'trecognize yuh on sight. We've got a heap of work ahead, and only fivedecent men in the outfit. It's the Flying U; and these five haveworked for the outfit for years."

  "I sure savvy that bunch," Pink declared sweetly. "I've heard uh theHappy Family before. Ain't you one uh them?"

  Chip grinned reminiscently. "I was," he admitted, a shade of regret inhis voice. "Maybe I am yet; only I went up a notch last spring. Gotmarried, and settled down. I'm one of the firm now, so I had to reformand cut out the foolishness. Folks have got to calling the rest theFrivolous Five. They're a pretty nifty bunch, but you'll get on, allright, seeing you're not the pilgrim you look to be. If you were, I'dsay: 'The Lord help you!' Got an outfit?"

  "Sure. Bought one, brand new, in the Falls. It's over at the hotelnow, with a haughty, buckskin-colored suitcase that fair squeals withstyle and newness." Pink pulled his silver belt-buckle straight andpatted his pink-and-blue tie approvingly.

  "Well, if you're ready, I'll get the horses these two hoboes rode in,and we'll drift. By the way, how shall I write you on the book?"

  Pink stooped and with his handkerchief carefully, wiped the last speckof Dry Lake dust from his shiny toes. "Yuh won't crawfish on me, if Itell yuh?" he inquired anxiously, standing up and adjusting his beltagain.

  "Of course not." Chip looked his surprise at the question.

  "Well, it ain't _my_ fault, but my lawful, legal name is PercivalCadwallader Perkins."

  "Wha-at?"

  "Percival Cad-_wall_-ader Perkins. Shall I get yuh something to takewith it?"

  Chip, with his pencil poised in air, grinned sympathetically. "It'ssure a heavy load to carry," he observed solemnly. "How do you spellthat second shift?"

  Pink told him, spelling the word slowly, syllable by syllable. "Ain'tit fierce?" he wanted to know. "My mother must have sure beenfrivolous and light-minded when I was born. I'm the only boy she everhad, and there was two grandfathers that wanted a kid named after 'em;they sure make a hot combination. Yuh know what Cadwallader means, inthe dictionary?"

  "Lord, no!" said Chip, putting away his book.

  "Battle arranger," Pink told him sadly. "Now, wouldn't that jostleyuh? It's true, too; it has sure arranged a lot uh battles for me. Itcaused me to lick about six kids a day, and to get licked by a dozen,when I went to school. So, seeing the name was mine, and I couldn'tchuck it, I went and throwed in with an ex-pugilist and learned thet
rade thorough. Since then things come easier. Folks don't open upthe subject more'n a dozen times before they take the hint. And thissummer I fell in with a ju-jutsu sharp--a college-fed Jap that suresavvied things a white man never dreams except in nightmares. I set athis feet all summer learning wisdom. I ain't afraid now to wear myname on my hatband."

  "Still, I wouldn't," said Chip dryly. "Hike over and get the haughtynew war-bag, and we'll hit the sod. I've got to be in camp bydinner-time."

  A mile out Pink looked down at his festal garments and smiled. "Iexpect I'll be pickings for your Happy Family when they see me in thesewar-togs," he remarked.

  Chip turned and regarded him meditatively for a minute. "I was justwondering," he said slowly, "if the Happy Family wouldn't be pickingsfor _you_."

  Pink dimpled wickedly and said nothing.

  The Happy Family were at dinner when Chip and Pink rode up anddismounted by the bed-tent. Chip and Pink went over to where theothers were sitting in various places and attitudes, and the HappyFamily received them, not with the nudges and winks one might justlyexpect, but with decorous silence.

  Chip got plate, knife, fork, and spoon and started for the stove.

  "Help yourself to the tools, and then come over here and fill up," heinvited Pink, over his shoulder. "We don't stand on ceremony here.May look queer to you at first, but you'll get used to it."

  The Happy Family pricked up its ears and looked guardedly at oneanother. This wasn't a chance visitor, then; he was going to work!

  Weary, sitting cross-legged in the shade of a wagon-wheel looked up atPink, fumbling shyly among the knives and forks, and with deceitfulinnocence he whistled absently:

  Oh, tell me, pretty maiden, Are there any more at home like you?

  Pink glanced at him quickly, then at the solemn faces of the others,and retreated hastily inside the tent, where was Chip; and every man ofthem knew the stranger had caught Weary's meaning. They smileddiscreetly at their plates and said nothing.

  Pink came out with heaped plate and brimming cup, and retireddiffidently to the farthest bit of shade he could find, which broughthim close to Cal Emmett. He sat down gingerly so as not to spillanything.

  "Going to work for the outfit?" asked Cal politely.

  "Yes, sir; the overseer gave me a position," answered Pink sweetly, inhis soft treble. "I just came to town this morning. Is it very hardwork?"

  "Yeah, it sure is," said Cal plaintively, between bites. "What withtaming wild broncos and trying to keep the cattle from stampeding, ourshining hours are sure improved a lot. It's a hard, hard life." Hesighed deeply and emptied his cup of coffee.

  "I--I thought I'd like it," ventured Pink wistfully.

  "It's dead safe to prognosticate yuh won't a little bit. None of uslike it. I never saw a man with soul so vile that he did."

  "Why don't you give it up, then, and get a position at something else?"Pink's eyes looked wide and wistful over the rim of his cup.

  "Can't. We're most of us escaped desperadoes with a price on ourheads." Cal shook his own lugubriously. "We're safer here than wewould be anywhere else. If a posse showed up, or we got wind of onecoming, there's plenty uh horses and saddles to make a getaway. We'djust pick out a drifter and split the breeze. We can keep on the dodgea long time, working on round-up, and earn a little money at the sametime, so when we do have to fly we won't be dead broke."

  "Oh!" Pink looked properly impressed. "If it isn't toopersonal--er--is there a--that is, are you----"

  "An outlaw?" Cal assisted. "I sure am--and then some. I'm wanted forperjury in South Dakota, manslaughter in Texas, and bigamy in Utah.I'm all bad."

  "Oh, I hope not!" Pink looked distressed. "I'm very sorry," he addedsimply, "and I hope the posses won't chase you."

  Cal shook his head very, very gravely. "You can't most always tell,"he declared gloomily. "I expect I'll have an invite to anecktie-party some day."

  "I've been to necktie-parties myself." Pink brightened visibly. "Idon't like them; you always get the wrong girl."

  "I don't like 'em, either," agreed Cal. "I'm always afraid the wrongnecktie will be mine. Were you ever lynched?"

  Pink moved uneasily. "I--I don't remember that I ever was," heanswered guardedly.

  "I was. My gang come along and cut me down just as I was about all in.I was leading a gang----"

  "Excuse me a minute," Pink interrupted hurriedly. "I think theoverseer is motioning for me."

  He hastened over to where Chip was standing alone, and asked if heshould change his clothes and get ready to go to work.

  Chip told him it wouldn't be a bad idea, and Pink, carrying his haughtysuit-case and another bulky bundle, disappeared precipitately into thebed-tent.

  "By golly!" spoke up Slim, "it looks good enough to eat."

  "Where did yuh pluck that modest flower, Chip?" Jack Bates wanted toknow.

  Chip calmly sifted some tobacco in a paper. "I picked it in town," hetold them. "I hired it to punch cows, and its name is--wait a minute."He put away the tobacco sack, got out his book, and turned the leaves."Its name is Percival Cadwallader Perkins."

  "Oh, mamma! Percival Cadwolloper--what?" Weary looked utterly at sea.

  "Perkins," supplied Chip.

  "Percival--Cad-wolloper--Perkins," Weary mused aloud. "Yuh want todouble the guard to-night, Chip; that name'll sure stampede the bunch."

  "He's sure a sweet young thing--mamma's precious lamb broke out uh thehome corral!" said Jack Bates. "I'll bet yuh a tall, yellow-hairedmamma with flowing widow's weeds'll be out here hunting him up inside aweek. We got to be gentle with him, and not rub none uh the bloom uhinnocence off his rosy cheek. Mamma had a little lamb, his cheeks werered and rosy. And everywhere that mamma went--er--everywhere--thatmamma--went----"

  "The lamb was sure to mosey," supplied Weary.

  "By golly! yuh got that backward," Slim objected. "It ought uh be:Everywhere the lambie went; his mamma was sure to mosey."

  The reappearance of Pink cut short the discussion. Pink as he hadlooked before was pretty as a poster. Pink as he reappeared would havedriven a matinee crowd wild with enthusiasm. On the stage he would bein danger of being Hobsonized; in the Flying U camp the Happy Familylooked at him and drew a long breath. When his back was turned, theyshaded their eyes ostentatiously from the blaze of his splendor.

  He still wore his panama, and the dainty pink-and-white striped silkshirt, the gray trousers, and russet-leather belt with silver buckle.But around his neck, nestling under his rounded chin, was a gorgeousrose-pink silk handkerchief, of the hue that he always wore, and thathad given him the nickname of "Pink."

  His white hands were hidden in a pair of wonderful silk-embroideredbuckskin gauntlets. His gray trousers were tucked into number four tanriding-boots, high as to heel--so high that they looked two sizessmaller--and gorgeous as to silk-stitched tops. A shiny, new pair ofsilver-mounted spurs jingled from his heels.

  He smiled trustfully at Chip, and leaned, with the studiously gracefulpose of the stage, against a hind wheel of the mess-wagon. Then he gotpapers and tobacco from a pocket of the silk shirt and began to roll acigarette. Inwardly he hoped that the act would not give him away tothe Happy Family, whom he felt in honor bound to deceive, and bewailedthe smoke-hunger that drove him to take the risk.

  The Happy Family, however, was unsuspicious. His pink-and-whiteprettiness, his clothes, and the baby innocence of his dimples and hislong-lashed blue eyes branded him unequivocally in their eyes as thetenderest sort of tenderfoot.

  "Get onto the way he rolls 'em--backward!" murmured Weary into Cal'sear.

  "If there's anything I hate," Cal remarked irrelevantly to the crowd,"it's to see a girl chewing a tutti-frutti cud--or smoking a cigarette!"

  Pink looked up from under his thick lashes and opened his lips tospeak, then thought better of it. The jingling of the cavvy coming incut short the incipient banter, and Pink turned and watched intentlythe corralling process.
To him the jangling bells were sweetest music,for which ears and heart had hungered long, and which had come to himoften in dreams. His blood tingled as might a lover's when hissweetheart approaches.

  "Weary, you and Cal better relieve the boys on herd," Chip called."I'll get you a horse, P--Perkins"--he had almost said "Pink"--"and youcan go along. Then to-night you'll go on guard with Cal."

  "Yes, sir," said Pink, with a docility that would have amazed any whoknew him well, and followed Chip out to the corral, where Cal and Wearywere already inside with their ropes, among the circling mass.

  Chip led out a gentle little cow-pony that could almost day-herdwithout a rider of any sort, and Pink bridled him before the covertlywatching crew. He did not do it as quickly as he might have done, forhe "played to the gallery" and deliberately fumbled the buckle andpinned one ear of the pony down flat with the head-stall.

  A new saddle, stiff and unbroken, is ever a vexation unto its proudowner, and its proper adjustment requires time and much language. Pinkomitted the language, so that the process took longer than it wouldnaturally have done; but Cal and Weary, upon their mounts, madecigarettes and waited, with an air of endurance, and gave Pink muchadvice. Then he got somehow into the saddle and flapped elbows besidethem, looking like a gorgeous-hued canary with wings a-flutter.

  Happy Jack, who had been standing herd disconsolately with two aliens,stared open-mouthed at Pink's approach and rode hastily to camp, fairbursting with questions and comments.

  The herd, twelve hundred range-fattened steers, grazed quietly on aside hill half a mile or more from camp. Pink ran a quick, appraisingeye over the bunch estimating correctly the number, and noting theirsplendid condition.

  "Never saw so many cattle in one bunch before, did yuh?" queried Cal,misinterpreting the glance.

  Pink shook his head vaguely. "Does one man own all those cows?" hewanted to know, with just the proper amount of incredulous wonder.

  "Yeah--and then some. This ain't any herd at all; just a few thatwe're shipping to get 'em out uh the way uh the real herds."

  "About how many do you think there are here?" asked Pink.

  Cal turned his back upon his conscience and winked at Weary. "Oh,there's only nine thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one," he liedboldly. "Last bunch we gathered was fifty-one thousand six hundred andtwenty-nine and a half. Er--the half," he explained hastily in answerto Pink's look of unbelief, "was a calf that we let in by mistake. Icaught it, after we counted, and took it back to its mother."

  "I should think," Pink ventured hesitatingly, "it would be hard to findits mother. I don't see how you could tell."

  "Well," said Cal gravely, sliding sidewise in the saddle, "it's thisway. A calf is always just like its mother, hair for hair. This calfhad white hind feet, one white ear, and the deuce uh diamonds on itsleft side. All I had to do was ride the range till I found the cowthat matched."

  "Oh!" Pink looked thoughtful and convinced.

  Weary, smiling to himself, rode off to take his station at the otherside of the herd. Even the Happy Family must place duty a pace beforepleasure, and Cal, much as he would liked to have continued theconversation, resisted temptation and started down along the nearestedge of the bunch. Pink showed inclination to follow.

  "You stay where you're at, sonny," Cal told him, over his shoulder.

  "What must I do?" Pink straightened his tie and set his panama morefirmly on his yellow curls, for a brisk wind was blowing.

  Cal's voice came back to him faintly: "Just dub around here and don'tdo a darn thing; and don't bother the cattle."

  "Good advice, that," Pink commented amusedly. "Hits day-herding off toa T." He prepared for a lazy afternoon, and enjoyed every minute.

  On his way back to camp at suppertime, Pink rode close to Cal andlooked as if he had something on his mind. Cal and Weary exchangedglances.

  "I'd like to ask," Pink began timidly, "how you fed that calf--beforeyou found his mother. Didn't he get pretty hungry?"

  "Why, I carried a bottle uh milk along," Cal lied fluently. "When thebottle went empty I'd catch a cow and milk it."

  "Would it stand without being tied?"

  "Sure. All range cows'll gentle right down, if yuh know the right wayto approach 'em, and the words to say. That's a secret that we don'ttell anybody that hasn't been a cowboy for a year, and rode fourteenbroncos straight up. Sorry I can't tell yuh."

  Pink went diplomatically back to the calf. "Did you carry it in yourarms, or--"

  "The calf? Sure. How else would I carry it?" Cal's big, baby-blueeyes matched Pink's for innocence. "I carried that bossy in my armsfor three days," he declared solemnly, "before I found a cow with whitehind feet, one white ear, and the deuce uh--er--clubs----"

  "Diamonds" corrected Pink, drinking in each word greedily.

  "That's it: diamonds, on its right hind--er--shoulders----"

  "The calf's was on its left side," reminded Pink reproachfully. "Idon't believe you found the right mother, after all!"

  "Yeah, I sure did, all right," contended Cal earnestly. "I know,'cause she was that grateful, when she seen me heave in sight over ahill a mile away, she come up on the gallop, a-bawling, and--er--lickedmy hand!"

  That settled it, of course. Pink dismounted stiffly and walkedpainfully to the cook-tent. Ten months out of saddle--with a new,unbroken one to begin on again--told, even upon Pink, and made forextreme discomfort.

  When he had eaten, hungrily and in silence, responding to the mildlyironical sociability of his fellows with a brevity which only his softvoice saved from bruskness, he unrolled his new bed and lay down withnot a thought for the part he was playing. He heard with absoluteindifference Weary's remark outside, that "Cadwolloper's about all in;day-herding's too strenuous for him." The last that came to him, someone was chanting relishfully:

  Mamma had a precious lamby his cheeks were red and rosy; And when he rode the festive bronk, he tumbled on his nosey.

  There was more; but Pink had gone to sleep, and so missed it.

  At sundown he awoke and went out to saddle the night horse Chip hadcaught for him, and then went to bed again. When shaken gently formiddle guard, he dressed sleepily, added a pair of white Angora chapsto his afternoon attire, and stumbled out into the murky moonlight.

  Guided and coached by Cal, he took his station and began thatmonotonous round which had been a part of the life he loved best.Though stiff and sore from unaccustomed riding, Pink felt quite contentto be where he was; to watch the quiet land and the peaceful,slumbering herd; with the drifting gray clouds above, and the moonswimming, head under, in their midst. Twice in a complete round he metCal, going in opposite direction. At the second round Cal stopped him.

  "How yuh coming?" he queried cheerfully.

  "All right, thank you," said Pink.

  "Yuh want to watch out for a lop-horned critter over on the otherside," Cal went on, in confidential tone. "He keeps trying to sneakout uh the bunch. Don't let him get away; if he goes, take after himand fog him back."

  "He won't get away from me, if I can help it," Pink promised, and Calrode on, with Pink smiling maliciously after him.

  As he neared the opposite side, a dim shape angled slowly out beforehim, moving aimlessly away from the sleeping herd. Pink followed.Farther they went, and faster. Into a little hollow went the"critter", and circled. Pink took down his rope, let loose a good tenfeet of it, and spurred unexpectedly close to it.

  Whack! The rope landed with precision on the bowed shoulders of Cal."Yuh will try to fool your betters, will yuh?" Whack! "I guess I canpoint out a critter that won't stray out uh the bunch again fer aspell!" Whack!

  Cal straightened, gasping astonishment, in the saddle, pulled up with ajerk, and got off, in unlovely mood.

  "And I can point to a little mamma's lamb that won't take down his ropeto his betters again, either!" he cried angrily. "Climb down and getyour ears cuffed proper, yuh darned, pink little smart Aleck; or themshin
y heels'll break your pretty neck. Thump me with a rope, will yuh?"

  Pink got down. Immediately after, to use a slang term, they "mixed."Presently Cal, stretched the long length of him in the grass, with Pinksitting comfortably upon his middle, looked up at the dizzying swim ofthe moon, saw new and uncharted stars, and nearer, dimly revealed inthe half-light, the self-satisfied, cherubic face of Pink.

  He essayed to rise and continue the discussion, and discovered a quitesurprising state of affairs. He could scarcely move: and the more hetried the more painful became Pink's diabolical hold of him. Heblinked and puzzled over the mystery.

  "Of all the bone-headed, feeble-minded sons-uh-guns it's ever been myduty and pleasure to reconstruct," announced Pink melodiously, "yousure take the sour-dough biscuit. You're a song that's been tried onthe cattle and failed t' connect. You're the last wail of a coyotedying in the dim distance. For a man that's been lynched and cut downand waiting for another yank, you certainly--are--mild! You're thetamest thing that ever happened. A lady could handle yuh with safetyand ease. You're a children's playmate. For a deep-dyed desperadothat's wanted for manslaughter in Texas, perjury in South Dakota, andbigamy in Utah, you're the last feeble whisper of a summer breeze._You_ cuff my ears proper? Oh, my! and oh, fudge! It is to laugh!"

  Cat, battered as to features and bewildered as to mind, blinked againand grinned feebly.

  "Yuh try an old gag that I wore out on humans of your ilk in Wyoming,"went on Pink, warming to the subject. "Yuh load me with stuff thatwould bring the heehaw from a sheep-herder. Yuh can't even lieconsistent to a pilgrim. You're a story that's been told andforgotten, a canto that won't rhyme, blank verse with club feet.You're the last, horrible example of a declining race. You're extinct."

  "Say"--Pink's fists kneaded energetically Cal's sufferingdiaphragm.--"are yuh--all--ba-a-d?"

  "Oh, Lord! No. I'm dead gentle. Lemme up."

  "D'yuh think that critter will quit the bunch ag'in to-night?"

  "He ain't liable to," Cal assured him meekly. "Say, who the devil areyuh anyhow?"

  "I'm Percival Cadwallader Perkins. Do yuh like that name? Do yuhthink it drips sweetness and poetry, like a card uh honey?"

  "_Ouch_! It--it's _swell_!"

  "You're a dam' liar," declared Pink, getting up. "Furthermore, yuh oldchuckle-head, yuh ought t' know better than try t' run any ranikabooson me. I've got your pedigree, right back to the Flood; and it's safebetting yuh got mine, and don't know it. Your best girl happens to bemy cousin."

  Cal scrambled slowly and painfully to his feet. "Then you're MilkRiver Pink. I might uh guessed it," he sighed.

  "I cannot tell a lie," Pink averred. "Only, plain Pink'll do for me.Where d'yuh suppose the bunch is by this time?"

  They mounted and rode back together. Cal was deeply thoughtful.

  "Say," he said suddenly, just as they parted to ride their rounds, "theboys'll be tickled plumb to death. We've been wishing you'd blow inhere ever since the Cross L quit the country."

  Pink drew rein and looked back, resting one hand on the cantle. "Mygentle friend," he warned, "yuh needn't break your neck spreading theglad tidings. Yuh better let them frivolous youths wise-up in theirown playful way, same as you done."

  "Sure," agreed Cal, passing his fingers gingerly over certain portionsof his face. "I ain't a hog. I'm willing they should have some sportwith yuh, too."

  Next morning, when Cal appeared at breakfast with a slight limp andseveral inches of cuticle missing from his features, the Happy Familylearned that his horse had fallen down with him as he was turning astray back into the herd.

  Chip looked up quizzically and then hid a smile behind his coffee-cup.

  It was Weary that afternoon on dayherd who indulged his mendacity forthe benefit of Pink; and his remarks were but paving-stones for ascheme hatched overnight by the Happy Family.

  Weary began by looking doleful and emptying his lungs in sighs deep andsorrowful. When Pink, rising obligingly to the bait, asked him if hefelt bad. Weary only sighed the more. Then, growing confidential, hetold how he had dreamed a dream the night before. With picturesquelanguage, he detailed the horror of it. He was guilty of murder, heconfessed, and the crime weighed heavily on his conscience.

  "Not only that," he went on, "but I know that death is camping on mytrail. That dream haunts me. I feel that my days are numbered inwords uh one syllable. That dream'll come true; you see if it don't!"

  "I--I wouldn't worry over just a bad dream, Mr. Weary," comforted Pink.

  "But that ain't all. I woke up in a cold sweat, and went outside. Andthere in the clouds, perfect as life, I seen a posse uh men gallopingup from the South. Down South," he explained sadly, "sleeps myvictim--a white-headed, innocent old man. That posse is sure headedfor me, Mr. Perkins."

  "Still, it was only clouds."

  "Wait till I tell yuh," persisted Weary, stubbornly refusing comfort."When I got up this morning I put my boots on the wrong feet; that's asure sign that your dream'll come true. At breakfast I upset the canuh salt; which is bad luck. Mr. Perkins, I'm a lost man."

  Pink's eyes widened; he looked like a child listening to a story ofgoblins. "If I can help you, Mr. Weary, I will," he promisedgenerously.

  "Will yuh be my friend? Will yuh let me lean on yuh in my dark hours?"Weary's voice shook with emotion.

  Pink said that he would, and he seemed very sympathetic and anxious forWeary's safety. Several times during their shift Weary rode around towhere Pink was sitting uneasily his horse, and spoke feelingly of hiscrime and the black trouble that loomed so closer and told Pink howmuch comfort it was to be able to talk confidentially with a friend.

  When Pink went out that night to stand his shift, he found Weary at hisside instead of Cal. Weary explained that Cal was feeling pretty bumon account of that fall he had got, and, as Weary couldn't sleep,anyway, he had offered to stand in Cal's place. Pink scented mischief.

  This night the moon shone brightly at intervals, with patches ofsilvery clouds racing before the wind and chasing black splotches ofshadows over the sleeping land. For all that, the cattle lay quiet,and the monotony of circling the herd was often broken by Weary andPink with little talks, as they turned and rode together.

  "Mr. Perkins, fate's a-crowding me close," said Weary gloomily, when anhour had gone by. "I feel as if--what's that?"

  Voices raised in excited talk came faintly and fitfully on the wind.Weary turned his horse, with a glance toward the cattle, and, beckoningPink to follow, rode out to the right.

  "It's the posse!" he hissed. "They'll go to the herd so look for me.Mr. Perkins, the time has come to fly. If only I had a horse thatcould drift!"

  Pink thought he caught the meaning. "Is--is mine any good, Mr. Weary?"he quavered. "If he is, you--you can have him. I--I'll stay and--andfool them as--long as I can."

  "Perkins," said Weary solemnly, "you're sure all right! Let that possethink you're the man they want for half an hour, and I'm safe. I'llnever forget yuh!"

  He had not thought of changing horses, but the temptation mastered him.He was riding a little sorrel, Glory by name, that could beat even theHappy Family itself for unexpected deviltry. Yielding to Pink'spersuasions, he changed mounts, clasped Pink's hand affectionately, andsped away just as the posse appeared over a rise, riding furiously.

  Pink, playing his part, started toward them, then wheeled and sped awayin the direction that would lead them off Weary's trail. That is, hesped for ten rods or so. After that he seemed to revolve on an axis,and there was an astonishing number of revolutions to the minute.

  The stirrups were down in the dark somewhere below the farthest reachof Pink's toes--he never once located them. But Pink was not known allover Northern Montana as a "bronco-peeler" for nothing. He surprisedGlory even more than that deceitful bit of horseflesh had surprisedPink. While his quirt swung methodically, he looked often over hisshoulder for the posse, and wondered that it did not appear.
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  The posse, however, was at that moment having troubles of its own.Happy Jack, not having a night horse saddled, had borrowed one notremarkable for its sure-footedness. No sooner had they sighted theirquarry than Jack's horse stepped in a hole and went head-long--whichwas bad enough. When he got up he planted a foot hastily on Jack'sdiaphragm and then bolted straight for the peacefully slumberingherd--which was worse.

  With stirrup-straps snapping like pistol-shots, he tore down throughthe dreaming cattle, with none to stop him or say him nay. The herddid not wait for explanations; as the posse afterward said, it quit theearth, while they gathered around the fallen Jack and tried to discoverif it was a doctor or coroner that was needed.

  When Jack came up sputtering sand and profane words, there was no herd,no horse and no Pink anywhere in that portion of Chouteau County.Weary came back, laughing at the joke and fully expecting to see Pink aprisoner. When he saw how things stood, he said "Mamma mine!" andheaded for camp on a run. The others deployed to search the range fora beef-herd, strayed, and with no tag for its prompt delivery.

  Weary crept into the bed-tent and got Chip by the shoulder. Chip satup, instantly wide-awake. "What's the matter?" he demanded sharply.

  "Chip, we--we've lost Cadwolloper!" Weary's voice was tragic.

  "Hell!" snapped Chip, lying down again. "Don't let that worry yuh."

  "And we've lost the herd, too," added Weary mildly.

  Chip got up and stayed up, and some of his remarks, Weary afterwardreported, were scandalous.

  There was another scene at sunrise that the Happy Family votedscandalous--and that was when they rode into a little coulee and cameupon the herd, quietly grazing, and Pink holding them, with each blueeye a volcano shooting wrath.

  "Yuh knock-kneed bunch uh locoed sheep-herders!" he greeted spitefully,"if yuh think yuh can saw off on your foolery and hold this herd, I'llgo and get something to eat. When I come to this outfit t' work, Inaturally s'posed yuh was cow-punchers. Yuh ain't. Yuh couldn't holda bunch uh sick lambs inside a high board corral with the gate shut andlocked on the outside. When it comes t' cow-science, you're the limit.Yuh couldn't earn your board on a ten-acre farm in Maine, driving onemilk-cow and a yearling calf t' pasture and back. You're a hot bunchuh rannies--I don't think! Up on Milk River they'd put bells on everydam' one uh yuh t' keep yuh from getting lost going from the mess-houset' the corral and back. And, Mr. Weary, next time yuh give a man ahorse t' fall off from, for the Lord's sake don't put him on a gentleold skate that would be pickings for a two-year-old kid. I thoughtthis here Glory'd give a man something to do, from all the yawping I'veheard done about him. I heard uh him when I was on the Cross L; and Iwill say right now that he's the biggest disappointment I've met upwith in many a long day. He's punk. Come and get him and let me havesomething alive. I'm weary uh trying to delude myself into thinkingthat this red image is a horse."

  The Happy Family, huddled ten paces before him, stared. Pink slid outof the saddle and came forward, smiling, and dimpling. He held out agloved hand to the first man he came to, which was Weary himself. "Areyuh happy to meet Milk River Pink?" he wanted to know.

  The Happy Family, grinning sheepishly, crowded close to shake him bythe hand.