CHAPTER XX PLANS AND PREPARATIONS

On the last day of the round-up Johnny rode out to the SV and found a herd held against the wire fence. A branding fire was burning off to one side and Larry Hallock had just thrown a calf, its pitiful bawl turning its mother into a charging fury. The mother, being unbranded, was thrown instead of being diverted and received the same treatment being accorded to her sturdy offspring. Larry's helpers arose, let the calf up and grinned at its eagerness for maternal protection. They wiped their foreheads with wet sleeves and welcomed the visitor.

"There's some calves at that," said Larry, "but they're this year's crop. An' that's th' last brandin', I reckon, for here. Cimarron an' three of th' boys are startin' a clean-up north of th' east end in that grassy valley. I reckon today will finish it."

Slim nodded. "It wouldn't hurt to keep a few men ridin' well back, for a few days, pickin' up strays; but I'm sayin' this ranch has been combed to a T. We've cussed near branded even th' shadows. You'll never have no trouble tellin' them that Larry has branded. He paints wide an' free like he was paintin' a house. Just look at that yearlin' over there; an' them two weaners—they're cussed near all brand."

Larry grinned. "Shore; it saves a lot of ridin' when[262] you can read 'em far off. I'm in favor of histin' flags on 'em an' ridin' sign with a telescope hangin' from th' saddle."

Johnny laughed at the grinning pair, dust and sweat from head to feet. "This ranch will have stampin' irons as soon as it can get 'em, 'though Larry must hate 'em like poison. I'm comin' out here, some of these days, an' put that horse corral at th' house in better shape; an' anybody that offers to help won't get insulted. Now I'm ridin' to th' house. I got an idea an' want to see how it sets with th' Ol' Man. See you later."

"I been scratchin' all day for an idea like that," chuckled Slim. "All I could think of was a drink of water; an' Larry goes an' shoves out his canteen to me!"

"If I didn't," said Larry, "everybody would 'a' got thirsty, an' then who would 'a' held this herd?"

Johnny laughed and rode off, his friends watching him for a few moments. Then Larry went toward his horse, Slim following him.

"Well," said Slim, "Nelson knows where he can find a parson ten miles closer than Highbank, anyhow. After he put her on her hoss th' other day in Gunsight an' went off to get his own, she looked after him—an' I ain't no fool. I'm in favor of holdin' it in town. An' I says this here busted-down ranch needs a good man to take hold of it an' run it. I reckon an outfit of four would swing it handsome. Yes, three good men could do it."

Larry swung into the saddle. "I got three brothers that shore do love singin' since Two-Spot was planted.[263] I'm leanin' strong to th' melodious myself. An' I'm admittin' that I never knowed what singin' was before. Well, you maverick, let's go an' help 'em count that herd. You an' me aim to stop in town tonight on our way home, don't we? Then come on."

Johnny dismounted at the kitchen door and knocked. Charley came running and acted as host.

"Gee!" he exclaimed, his eyes sweeping to the six-guns and resting on them. "Come on in! Peggy's readin' to dad. He's gettin' plumb ornery an' says he's goin' to get up tomorrow, anyhow, come h—l or high water. Here she is now: Hey, Sis! Here's Mr. Nelson—bet yo're plumb glad to see him. Is dad still on th' prod?"

"Charley! What language! How you do pick things up! How-do-you-do, Mr. Nelson?" she smiled, holding out her hand. "I am so glad to see someone who may have a good influence on father. Come in. Father, here is our friend, Mr. Nelson."

"Which gun got Wolf?" demanded Charley.

"Glad to see you, sir!" exclaimed Arnold. "You have been entirely too much a stranger to this house. Sit down, and tell me what is going on. That Cimarron may know how to talk, but he doesn't seem very anxious to prove it. When I ask him how he finds the ranch he tells me about everything else that he can in one minute, pleads work, and leaves."

"I think a whole lot of Cimarron," replied Johnny. "He and his boys have worked like slaves out here—they've done an amazin' lot. They expect to have everything cleaned up and counted by tonight, or by[264] tomorrow, without fail. Then we can do some figgerin' ourselves, an' see how many cows are comin' to you. What I called for was to make a proposition to you, an' I think it's a good one."

"Go ahead; I'm sayin' yes to it right now," smiled Arnold.

"I reckoned mebby you would say that after you heard it," said Johnny. "McCullough, trail boss for Twitchell and Carpenter, is comin' up from th' south with two thousand head of mixed cattle. His deliveries call for four thousand head, an' he is countin' on gettin' th' second two thousand right up here around Gunsight. Th' Bar H is throwin' a thousand over to him an' th' Triangle has promised him five hundred. Th' other five hundred was to come from th' Double X, but Sherwood has got other ideas. He's got a good outfit an' hankers on gamblin' a little. He's made up his mind to sell McCullough only a hundred head of older cattle an' keep th' other four hundred for his own trail herd next year. He says Dodge, but I reckon he's fishin' for a government contract up north; an' if he is, an' lands it, he'll make a lot of money."

"I wish somebody would show me how to make some," replied Arnold, gloomily. "We are headed for some poorhouse, I'm afraid."

"Father!" exclaimed Margaret, reprovingly. "You should not say or think such things. Everything will come out all right. Our luck is turning."

Johnny glanced at her and smiled.

"Perhaps it is, but I can't see its face, yet," retorted Arnold. "We'll know how many head we have, and[265] how many we have lost, but that knowledge won't keep us, will it?"

"Perhaps Mr. Nelson has something to say concerning that."

"I have, Ma'am," smiled Johnny, his eyes for an instant resting full on hers. "I'm goin' to suggest that th' SV sells McCullough that missin' four hundred head. That will be th' best way to turn some of yore cattle into money, an' it will bring you as much as you can hope to get without startin' an outfit up th' trail. If you put a herd on th' trail, it would have to be a small one this year, an' there ain't no profit in drivin' four hundred cows up to Dodge, 'specially th' kind you'd have to take. You'd have th' risk an' th' worry, an th' spendin' of quite some money. This other way you'll get yore money, an' McCullough will have th' wrestlin' to do. Now, I suggests that you let Cimarron drive four hundred head home with him tomorrow, an' keep 'em handy on th' Double X for th' drive herd. They'll road brand 'em an' hold 'em with their own, and when Sherwood gets th' money, he'll send yourn to you, an' you'll have something to work on."

"And we will be four hundred head nearer bankruptcy," growled Arnold, more to give vent to his pessimism, which had become nearly chronic by this time.

"There will be more than that many turned over to you before winter," said Johnny. "Cattle stealin' don't go very long down here, even. Now, don't ask me nothin' about it; but I'm wishin' you'd give me authority to act for you in any little thing that might come up—I might not have time to ride out here for it, then."

[266]

"Why, certainly; and I'll be glad to have somebody act for me who knows what to do," replied Arnold.

"All right. I'm advisin' you to tell Cimarron to go ahead with that little trail herd. I'm goin' out that way now, an' I'll speak to him about it if you want me to."

"I think that is a splendid idea," enthused Margaret. "If we did not sell them, they will be a year older next year, and we will have to sell them then, anyhow."

"All right!" grunted Arnold. "Sell them. I don't care what is done, if only I can get out of this cursed bed. And I'll be out of it tomorrow or know the reason why!"

"We'd better have th' Doc come out an' look at it," said Johnny. "I'll be ridin' to town purty soon an' I'll drop in an' tell him. He shore ought to finish what he started."

Margaret's hand went to his arm. "Please!" she pleaded. "Don't—don't have any trouble—we—father can wait a little longer, I'm sure."

"I certainly can, Nelson," quickly spoke up the quasi-invalid, "if it will save you from any trouble. I don't know just how much I would do for you."

"There won't be no trouble, at all," Johnny gravely assured them. "Doc an' I know each other real well. You've got no idea how well we get along together. You'd be surprised if you only knowed how prompt he'll start for here. Why, trouble with me over a little thing like this is th' last thing he'd think of. You just stay where you are till he sees you an' says you can get up."

[267]

"That's the least I can do," replied Arnold "D—n it, man! If I only were up and about, and could get a few good, honest men to work for me, I'd make something out of the SV!"

"You'll be up an' around before you know it," Johnny assured him. "An' you won't have no trouble gettin' three honest men to ride for you. That parson must 'a' had a good influence on this range, even before he come down to Gunsight. Did I hear Sam Gardner tell him he was tired of workin' for th' Triangle?" he asked Margaret. "Why, of course you didn't. Well, I'll have to ask Sam if I heard right. I'm going to ask you to send to Highbank for three SV stampin' irons—Arch Wiggins is ridin' down there tomorrow. They're real handy—an' chute brandin' shore saves a lot of time. They'll be needed in a month or so. Arch knows a blacksmith that can turn 'em out alike as three cartridges."

"You get anything you think we need," said Arnold. "How about some wire for those quicksands?"

"They're fixed to stay fixed," answered Johnny. "Arch an' that Wood Hallock are great boys when it comes to wire, an' I'm gamblin' on that wire stayin' up till it rusts, which won't be soon. There's six strands, an' they set quite some few more posts. Arch does things right. I reckon he'll be lookin' for a job when he gets through visitin' Highbank. He says as how he's quittin' th' Circle 4. An' from what I've seen of Arch, I like him a lot."

"Tell him to see me before he leaves the ranch," exclaimed Arnold. "Why, we're sailing along at a[268] great clip. Look here, Nelson, there's a spare-room here—you come and use it until you ride south. You're better than a tonic. Quit that hotel—God save the word—and come out here."

"Well, I hardly think I can do that," smiled Johnny, "'though I'm thankin' you, just th' same. I've got business close to Gunsight that'll keep me there for quite a spell, but afterward, I'll mebby spend a couple of days with you."

"Well, come when you can," replied Arnold. "If you think of anything else this ranch needs to get from Highbank, order it. You can tell that Arch that there's a job here if he wants it. I'll leave the question of wages to you."

"All right, but I'll send him in, anyhow," said Johnny, arising. "I'll be goin' now. You better stay where you are till th' Doc comes an' looks you over," and he followed Margaret out.

"You are sure that you will have no trouble with Doctor Reed?" she asked, as he stepped onto the porch.

"Why, no, Ma'am; th' Doc is seein' th' error of his sinful ways, an' I reckons he'll do purty near anythin' I tell him to if I tell him right. An' of course, I wouldn't tell him no other way."

"You are a puzzle to me," confessed Margaret, smiling. "I'm never quite sure about you."

"Puzzle?" He turned his hat over and looked into it as if to find something puzzling. "Why, Ma'am," he said, grinning, daring another deep look into her eyes, "I'm as simple an' easy to read as a—as a—[269]Injun. Now if it was you I'd say there was a puzzle—but, pshaw! I never was no good, at all, figgerin' puzzles. I remember once I was watchin' some tenderfeet playin' billiards, when I was in Kansas City, after leavin' some cattle at th' yards across th' river. They did things to them balls that I never thought could be done, an' they did them easylike. Billiards is mebby an easy game, Ma'am, for them that knows how. It looked plumb easy to me, an' awful temptin'. I got me a table over in a corner an' took off my coat. I ain't never tried it since. Th' proprietor come a-runnin' an tells me that th' blacksmith-shop is down th' street a couple of blocks. That's me, Ma'am—my touch ain't gentle—I can't help smashin'. An' when somebody gives me a puzzle to figger out I allus look to see if I can smash through it. But puzzles ain't made that way I reckon."

Margaret stepped back into the kitchen, half closed the door and said, quickly, quietly, although somewhat breathlessly: "There is no puzzle worth the solving that the right man can't solve—if he tries hard enough."

Johnny started forward, but the door closed in his face and he heard the bar drop, and then the front door slammed. He tensed himself and then relaxed, a smile lighting up his face like a sunrise bathing a granite mountain. "This weather is bound to change," he said, loudly. "I can feel cyclones in th' air—an' I ain't th' only one that had better look to their tent pegs!" He reached Pepper in two leaps, the second of which put him in the saddle, and he dashed off to[270] find Cimarron as though it were a matter of life or death.

The segundo looked up, a covetous expression on his face. The black whirlwind slid to a stop at his feet, a cloud of dust enveloping him and drifting slowly south with the wind.

"I'm solvin' puzzles with an axe," came the astonishing statement from the heart of the cloud. "I mean, have you got a match?"

The round-up boss put his fingers in a vest pocket and produced the desired article. "I got one; but mebby you ought to roll somethin' to smoke before you lights it."

Johnny scratched his head and burst into a roar of laughter, Cimarron joining him purely because it was infectious.

"Seein' where you come from, I'd say you was loco," chuckled Cimarron. "What's on yore mind besides matches an' axes?"

"Why, I was just wonderin' if you could take four hundred head of these cows over to th' Double X, road brand 'em with th' Question Mark, an' throw 'em in with Lin's hundred. McCullough shore is countin' on gettin' five hundred from you fellers, and he shouldn't be disappointed."

"I can do it unless I lose my health an' strength," answered the boss. "We ain't got 'em here—but on yore way to town stop an' tell Slim an' Larry to pick out as many as they can from that herd they're holdin'. If we're still short we can get th' rest easy enough. Where you goin' now?"

[271]

"To see Arch. I reckon he's got a new job if he wants it."

"That so?" replied the round-up boss. "He is a good man. You aimin' to be in Dave's tonight?"

"I am."

"Slim an' Larry will stop there with th' tally figgers on their way home. Are you reckonin' there'll be any blast tonight? They ain't in no hurry—an' I'd just as soon come with 'em."

"There won't be no blast—that'll come later," replied Johnny, smiling. "I only aim to light th' fuse tonight. Mebby it's a long one, an' mebby it's busted somewhere."

"You move cautious just th' same after tonight," warned Cimarron. "Some fuses hang fire; others get crossed, which cuts out some of th' waitin'. You've been packin' in quite some giant, off an' on. I'd say it's overcharged, with Squint, Smitty, Wolf, Lang, an' th' Doc all packed in together. Don't you get slack, son."

"I'll be hummin' like a fiddle string," replied Johnny quietly. "There's Arch, over there. See you later, mebby."

Arch tested an iron and put it back in the fire, and looked up. "Well," he said, smiling cheerfully, "we're near through."

"Glad to hear it," replied Johnny. "Are you aimin' to bum around Highbank, or get yoreself a new job an' keep out of mischief?"

"I knowed that parson wouldn't have no good effect on you," growled Arch, "seein' how strong he affected[272] me with my strong mind. What you want to know for? Found somethin' for my idle hands to do?"

"Arnold needs a good man out here steady; two of 'em to start with, an' mebby another later on. I told him that you wasn't worth a cuss; but bein' stubborn he says mebby you'll do."

"I ain't heard no offer yet," grinned Arch, impudently.

"You ought to be glad that folks will let you hang around," retorted Johnny. "What were you gettin' on th' Circle 4?"

"Forty-five," answered Arch. "I ain't no kid, an' I asks for fifty. They couldn't see it; so here I am."

"Fifty is yours; but you better see Arnold first. Are you goin' down to Highbank tomorrow?"

"I am, an' I'm shore set on it," answered Arch, firmly, "An' when I'm set, I'm set solid. I'm goin'; why?"

"I'm glad of it," chuckled Johnny. "You bring back three stampin' irons for this ranch; an' be shore that you can get both ends of 'em on a cow at th' same time."

"If I'm totin' 'em with me on my hoss, you can gamble they won't be no pets of Larry's," laughed Arch. "Anybody goin' to be in town tonight?"

"I reckon so. I'm dead shore that Fraser will be there. He's got a plumb affectionate disposition. He's been follerin' me around steady since Wolf cashed in. He's over there in that patch of scrub right now—don't look!"

"I ain't lookin', you ignoramus!" retorted Arch,[273] indignantly. "I'm comin' in to have a little of Dave's fire water tonight, an' sleep in a bed once more. It looks like rain," he observed, scanning the cloudless sky, "an' I shore hate a blanket an' slicker roll when it rains."

"So I see," gravely rejoined Johnny. "I don't care where you go, of course, if you don't crowd me. I like plenty of elbowroom when I'm millin' around indoors keepin' out of th' rain. But I don't figger there'll be any trouble tonight."

"You'll have plenty of room," promised Arch. "In case you ain't got enough, sing out an' we'll bust th' front out of th' Palace." He considered a moment. "Mebby it'll be just as well to have a couple of friends hangin' 'round outside in th' dark watchin' th' weather. Dave hardly ever pulls down his curtains."

"It won't be needed—not tonight, anyhow," smiled Johnny, his heart warming to the cocky youngster. "I'm thankin' you just th' same, you flathead. Well, so-long!" and Johnny rode toward town. After he had spoken to Slim about the herd to be collected he sent Pepper into a pace that defied any horse on that range to equal. There was to be no third man present when he visited the Doc.

Arch looked carelessly over the range, stretched the kinks out of his back and let his gaze rest idly for a moment on the distant clump of scrub timber. "You pore jackass," he muttered. "You'll mebby be another one of them fellers that didn't know it was loaded."

The Doc glanced idly out of the door and resumed[274] his packing. Big Tom had promised to send the chuck wagon for his effects on the morrow and to give him the extra room in the ranchhouse. The offer had been accepted with reluctance, for the Doc did not like to live in the same house with another, especially if the other was the boss of the house. Visiting was all very well, but he yearned for privacy, and there was good reason for it besides a natural inclination. He had little in common with the minds about him on the range, for he was a student and a reader, and his book shelves held a literature far above the understanding of those around him. He had no choice, however, for the time had come to get out of an impending storm. Being energetic, and impatient to finish a disagreeable task, he had kept at it and there now remained only a few odds and ends to be collected. He drew the corners of an old blanket over the bundle of clothing, extra bedding, and miscellaneous linen, pulled them tightly together and knelt on the bundle, straining at the rope. He had just finished the knot when a moving shadow on the east wall caught his attention and made him reach instinctively for the gun in its shoulder holster; but he checked his hand in mid-air, and just in time. There was only one man whom he had reason to fear, and that man had killed Wolf Forbes under the noses of his own outfit and in an even break; and what chance had he, a novice, against such gunplay? He let his hand drop to his side and slowly looked around.

"That was shore close, Doc," remarked a quiet but not unfriendly voice. "You don't never need to reach for no gun for me if you acts square. I ain't on th'[275] warpath, at all; I'm peaceful, I am; an' I come down to ask you somethin' that nobody but you can tell me."

The Doc arose, anger glinting in his eyes from the memory of a former indignity. "Well, what do you want?" he growled. "Framing up another kidnapping?"

"There you go," accused Johnny in great disgust. "You shore hop on th' prod as quick as any man I ever knowed. I only come down to ask you how soon Arnold can get out of bed an' get some use of that laig of his'n."

"I don't know," replied the Doc "Not knowing, I wouldn't care to say. I've not been out there since."

"He's all ribbed to get up," continued Johnny. "An' there's this about things: Folks that act square with me allus find that I act square with them. An' I'm tellin' you that them fellers will mebby be plumb lucky durin' th' next few weeks. I've been foolin' a lot down here—holdin' back, sort of; but I quit foolin' th' day I went down an' dug Wolf out of his outfit. I'm aimin' to be serious these days. You said you don't know about Arnold—but it ain't much of a job to make shore, is it? You only got to take th' rough goin' dead east of this shack for a little ways until you get into Green Valley—an' from there on th' ridin' is easy. There's too much confusion along th' reg'lar trail with them touchy Double X punchers ridin' around up there. An' if you left right away you could get back in plenty of time for yore supper. Looks like yo're movin'?"

"I am," replied the other. "I might go down to Highbank, and start practicing."

[276]

"You might," admitted Johnny; "but I'm sayin' that you don't have to go to th' Bar H ranchhouse to keep out of trouble. I've passed you my word—you play square with me an' you'll mebby find this shack is safer for you than that ranchhouse ever will be if you don't play square. I'm meanin' this, Doc."

"I don't see where the question of safety comes in at all. I've found this place pretty lonely, sometimes, and I'm getting tired of it. What's more, I'm squatting on the SV range."

"I'm glad to hear you say that last, an' I reckon mebby it is lonely," replied Johnny, "'though it shouldn't be. Yo're only a couple of miles from town, an' you got a good cayuse. There's some good boys up in town, too. You ought to ride in more often an' get friendly 'stead of holin' up like a bear dodgin' th' winter. An' as for squattin', why I'll say th' SV won't say nothin' at all to you about that, 'specially after you tells some of th' boys in town that you are only squattin' down here an' don't lay no claim to this land. Doc, th' time is shore comin' when nearly everybody on this range will be choosin' sides or settin' on th' fence—an' them as takes to th' fence should set awful tight an' still. But gettin' back to my reason for visitin' you: I reckon Arnold is plumb sick of layin' abed; I'm shore I'd be. You can't say when he should get up?"

The Doc was looking at him intently and his frown had slowly disappeared. He was no fool, had no real affection for Big Tom, and he was beginning to see a great light. He turned deliberately, yanked the knot loose and let the blanket open and spread out over the[277] floor. Picking up his bag, he considered a moment. "Hazarding a guess, I'd say that he has another week in bed. Did you notice any fever, any flush, or anything else that seemed abnormal to you?" he asked.

"Nothin' but stubbornness an' a grouch like a she bear with cubs," answered Johnny. "I reckon he stays on th' prod purty much when there ain't no strangers around. He must make life excitin' for his family. Now that he's gettin' ambitious, he'll be worse."

"Well, I'll go prepared for anything, anyhow. If you are riding down this way tonight drop in and I'll tell you how I found him. It was a clean break and everything was in his favor."

"I reckon I'll be too busy in town tonight," replied Johnny. "I got a job to do. If you ain't got nothin' special to keep you here an' feel like seein' th' boys, ride up an' spend th' evenin' with us. We'll be glad to see you."

The Doc listened intently. "Who's that riding up the trail?" he asked.

Johnny looked deep into his eyes, smiled cynically, banished his suspicions, and glanced out of the window. "I reckoned so," he muttered. "That's Fraser, goin' back to look for somethin' he's lost. He'll mebby find it tonight up in Dave's, if he looks hard enough. Times are shore changin' down here."

The Doc stepped forward and passed out. "When you leave, close the door behind you. The dust gets on my nerves and there will be plenty of it flying with this wind," and he walked briskly to the little corral.

Johnny watched him bridle and saddle the horse,[278] mount, and canter away straight for the rough going east of the trail. Pulling the door shut behind him, he walked to the brush-filled hollow where he had left his horse, mounted, and set off at a lope for Gunsight.

"Mebby he means it," he soliloquized. "If he does, all right. I gave him a chance to go for that shoulder holster when I looked out to see who was ridin' up th' trail, but that don't mean much, for he might have figgered it was too risky. Mebby he's aimin' to set on th' fence waitin' to see how things'll settle down. That's all right, too—it's his natural play—but I'm keepin' cases on him just th' same. He's had his warnin'"—he shrugged his shoulders expressively and looked up the trail where he thought he could distinguish Fraser's horse in front of the Palace. "An' that's all right, too," he growled, "he's where he'll be handy." After a moment he slapped Pepper's shoulder. "Sorry, little hoss," he growled, "but mebby you'll have to play pack animal for a while if I'm goin' to watch them mavericks until after McCullough gets that Bar H herd. Didn't I tell you we'd likely be popular, an' unpopular? Well, it's shore comin' true."