BUTTERNUT 
 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES. 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 A LAMBKIN OF THE WEST 
 
 BY 
 
 TILDEN TILFORD 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 MCMIV 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 PublisJied November, 1903 
 
T574 
 but 
 
 Co 
 KARL HENRY LOGUE 
 
 WHOM I HAVE LONG LOVED, WHOSE NEFARIOUS 
 SCHEMES HAVE BEGUILED ME INTO MANY EXPLOITS, 
 FROM TEACHING A SUNDAY-SCHOOL TO CRUIS 
 ING AMONG PIRATES, BUT NEVER INTO WRITING 
 BOOKS, I PRESENT THE GENTLE BUTTERNUT 
 
 T. T. 
 
 M597423 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGI 
 
 I. A PRAIRIE MATINEE . * . i 
 
 II. THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY ... 20 
 
 III. "GENERAL CUSTER" 34 
 
 IV. TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR. ... 51 
 V. THE RIVER ROAD 67 
 
 VI. CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL . . 78 
 
 VII. KING o THE PLAINS ...... 104 
 
 VIII. TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 116 
 
 IX. THE GREEN FORK DANCE . . . .130 
 
 X. A PREVIOUS INCIDENT 14? 
 
 XI. THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR . .154 
 
 XII. CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE . . .179 
 
 XIII. THE UPPER FORD 193 
 
 XIV. THE SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE . . 209 
 XV. "NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" ... 225 
 
 XVI. OKLAHOMA 239 
 
 XVII. THE LONG, GRIM LINE 251 
 
 XVIII. AT THE BLAST OF A BUGLE .... 262 
 
 XIX. BILLY is GALLANT 271 
 
 vii 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XX. "!F I WERE GOING TO BE HANGED!" 275 
 
 XXI. THE LAMBKIN SEES HUMOR .... 283 
 
 XXII. A FEW HOSTILITIES 293 
 
 XXIII. THE PASSING OF A WHIPPOORWILL . 301 
 
 XXIV. THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE . . . .310 
 XXV. THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH . .321 
 
 XXVI. IN MISSOURI 336 
 
 XXVII. BALANCE ALL! 350 
 
 viii 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 THE Lambkin s cabin stood first on the 
 left of the lane as you went toward the house. 
 It was without architectural ornament, being 
 built on the same simple plan as the cook s 
 and the other cowboys quarters, but you 
 would know it in a crowd. It may have been 
 the wild-rose vine, climbing the wall by the 
 little east window, or the double row of 
 larkspurs running from the door and airily 
 enclosing a spotless walk, which gave it dis 
 tinction; it is only known that there was 
 something about Butternut s abode which 
 pleasingly arrested the eye. 
 
 The Lambkin! Butternut! Where did 
 he get these? The last he had brought with 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 him on the day he anchored at the " Circle- 
 B"; the other had been plastered to him 
 during his first month of service, and though 
 he had early given the lie to its fitness, he 
 was too late, for it had grown to him, and 
 he can never lose it now. It may be that the 
 very paradox helped to keep it in place, such 
 are the surprising ways of the West. 
 
 From East Texas he hailed, which is as 
 different as Massachusetts from the cattle 
 country, but having passed his latter years at 
 a Middle State college, you would hardly 
 have gathered that he was from the pine- 
 woods. Tender in years and greener than 
 spring in his new field, he had arrived in 
 quest of a veteran s place and honors. Hav 
 ing worked his way through school, by the 
 same process he proposed to eventually con 
 trol a ranch or two, and it was this lamb-like 
 confidence, this superb innocence, that first 
 stupefied, then fascinated the foreman into 
 taking him on trial. Within a week it was 
 learned that his extreme fastidiousness came 
 not from weakness, and that his smooth, quiet 
 manners and gentle, elastic speech arose from 
 neither timidity nor the arrogance of conceit. 
 
 2 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 At the end of a month, enrolled as a regular, 
 he had, with that ready adaptation which was 
 part of his nature, assumed the cowpunch- 
 er s garb, while he talked " hawss " like a 
 native, his speech, rarely faulty as to gram 
 mar, beginning to flow in the soft twang of 
 stock-land. But while frequently in jocular 
 mood, and playfully reviling his fellows, 
 never did he lose that veneering of quiet, de 
 licious reserve. His care for appearances was 
 shown in a hundred ways by the use of his 
 razor thrice a week, as well as the way he 
 groomed his pony, by the cleanliness of his 
 dress, by the polish of his spurs; but had all 
 these things not done so, the fact that he 
 owned a library of twenty volumes would 
 have brought him fame in the land. His 
 " calico " pony was the sleekest of the fold, 
 and though he was never flashy, his neckties 
 were known as far east as the Big Arkansas. 
 
 It has been said that his cabin was pleas 
 ing to see, but on the occasion now in mind 
 " Scotty " was not out to inspect either the 
 rose-bush or the larkspurs. He was inside 
 the Lambkin s shanty, for the reasons that the 
 night was heavy and the weather was wet, and 
 
 3 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 he had been some hours in bed. (As the dis 
 trict physician, living at the Circle-B, Scotty 
 had privileges.) Across the room, by the 
 west window, he had been sleeping until, 
 along toward midnight, the cowboy had 
 calmly driven a legless boot rgainst the wall, 
 over his head. As Scotty sat up with a 
 wrench, a soft metallic drawl came clearly 
 through the gloom, above the riotous swish 
 of the rain: 
 
 " I think there s somethin clawin on our 
 door." 
 
 Scotty was about to suggest that by mak 
 ing less noise he could probably assure him 
 self on the point, when the next words re 
 proached him. The Lambkin was feeling 
 along the wall toward the candle on the table 
 among his books, as he said: 
 
 " My apologies to you, sir, but I didn t 
 want you to take me for an intruder. You 
 might have disfigured me." 
 
 He had lit the candle now, and as he 
 moved his shadow from the door there came 
 a wild scratching on the outer side, followed 
 by a long, low whine of melancholy. At once 
 he went to the door and let a wanderer in 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 out of the storm, getting a severe wetting for 
 his pains. For the rain was coming with the 
 wind and sweeping with fury through every 
 crack and crevice. So Butternut, when he 
 turned from the door, was right thoroughly 
 drenched, while " Snuffles " was wetter than 
 the drowned. The cowboy had merely smelt 
 of the storm ; the dog had lived in it so many 
 hours. 
 
 Butternut, clearing away his books, lifted 
 the animal on to the table, and inspected him 
 with critical eye. He was a coarse breed of 
 Skye terrier, about half grown and most un 
 promising to look at, but he had the Lamb 
 kin s sympathy from the start. His wet hair 
 was blacker than the night out of which 
 he had come, and dripping smooth on his 
 strangled body, shone and glistened in the 
 flare of the candle. At first he appeared em 
 barrassed, but anxious to make friends, and 
 presently he ran snuffling about the table, 
 shivered, and put his icy muzzle in the Lamb 
 kin s face. Though the howling wet breath 
 outside was but middling cool, he had dwelt 
 in it long enough to get a chill, and as, un 
 like Butternut, he could not shed his clothes, 
 
 5 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Scotty took the rag-barrel from its corner, 
 kicked it into staves, and started a blaze for 
 his accommodation. Then he gave him a 
 biscuit, smuggled from the supper-table, and 
 the animal ate handsomely, snuffling his 
 thanks. 
 
 " Where do you s pose he blew from? " 
 questioned the Lambkin, as the wanderer 
 snoozed before the fire, his nose on his paws. 
 Scotty shook his head. He had picked up a 
 broken collar, slipped from the traveler with 
 his entrance, and now flung it on the table, 
 its nickel tag toward the light. " You ve been 
 hungerin for romance, Lambkin; I think 
 you ve got it here," he said. 
 
 Butternut seized the leather and inspected 
 the tag eagerly. Certain confidences Scotty 
 had enjoyed by reason of a steady and cordial 
 association (he frequently passed the night in 
 the other s shanty, for he loved his conversa 
 tion and books) told him that the Lambkin, 
 in coming West to be a cowboy, had expected 
 a certain reward in the excitement or ro 
 mance which he had imagined the new life 
 and scenes would bring. Only yesterday he 
 had confided to Scotty his disappointment in 
 
 6 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 this respect. More than once had the doctor 
 surprised in him a maiden-like sentiment, and 
 now as the cowboy scanned the name-plate 
 on the leather, the flush which his compan 
 ion s words brought suffused him to the eyes. 
 
 " Catherine Cloud," he pronounced, with 
 relish. " Another stranger Miss Catherine, 
 the * oldest inhabitant don t know you. The 
 plot deepens." 
 
 He hung the leather on the corner of a 
 picture, and, moving to the window, peered 
 out into the howling night. " I trust she s 
 not abroad in this weather; but nothin can 
 be done till daylight." 
 
 However, before returning to bed, he 
 stood a candle at each window. 
 
 The next morning they found Snuffles, 
 awake before them, familiarizing himself 
 generally with the " lay " of the cabin. But 
 ternut had laid his boots horizontally on the 
 puncheon floor, and finding the pup up to 
 his middle in one of them, took him gently 
 by the tail. But Snuffles, with a smothered 
 yelp, only explored the deeper into the tun 
 nel, as though bent on finding another outlet. 
 Then Butternut, yanking him out bodily, de- 
 
 7 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 livered a terrific shriek and kicked the boot 
 into a remote corner. For Snuffles had been 
 slaying a centiped, and nothing could spread 
 more terror through the Lambkin than one 
 of these numerous-legged reptiles. He ac 
 cordingly petted and praised the pup, and the 
 two became friends for all time. It was not 
 long afterward that he made Snuffles his ad 
 jutant and began taking him out to hunt for 
 lost yearlings. 
 
 Meanwhile, never a word from the adju 
 tant s mistress! The Lambkin s inquiries 
 went wide, extending as far north as the 
 Staked Plains and eastward along the rails of 
 the Southern Pacific, but, as he had guessed, 
 the " oldest inhabitant " knew naught of 
 Catherine Cloud or of Snuffles s origin. True, 
 the somnambulistic agent at the railway sta 
 tion, ten miles distant, said that he had either 
 witnessed or dreamed how a small black dog 
 escaped from a baggage-car one rainy night, 
 but there had been no " short " report from 
 the crew confirming this fantasy; and But 
 ternut shrank from connecting a railroad 
 with the affair, suggesting, as it did, that the 
 fair unknown might be dwelling two thou- 
 
 8 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 sand miles away. Thus the weeks went by 
 until it seemed doubtful if his romance would 
 ever grow beyond a strip of leather suspended 
 across the corner of a picture. 
 
 The adjutant, maturing rapidly, soon 
 grew into a coarse-haired dog of under size, 
 but though of singularly discouraging aspect, 
 was wonderfully keen and appreciative. But 
 ternut, regarding him always with admira 
 tion, said it was the stock of his ancestors 
 creeping out. He found many names for the 
 five-eighths of him which was not terrier, fa 
 voring of course the nobler breeds, such as 
 St. Bernard, Mastiff, or Great Dane, and 
 adapting these in an amazing way to the par 
 ticular exploit in mind. 
 
 Snuffles developed into a valuable hand 
 among the steers. Not on the grand round 
 up, where his lack of endurance would have 
 counted him out, but in the every-day gather 
 ings of a few cows and a few yearlings, which 
 came up as incidents. Being clever and quick 
 with his legs, he could dodge in and out 
 among a cluster of steers with a rapidity that 
 was dazzling. He came so near to being 
 everywhere at the same time that it was diffi- 
 2 9 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 cult to dispute it, though never a hoof nor 
 horn struck him. They often tickled his ears, 
 or brushed the bristles of his scrubby neck, 
 but he inevitably escaped. Butternut once 
 vowed that he had seen Adjutant Snuffles, 
 while endeavoring to flank a galloping two- 
 year-old, pass under the animal s belly with 
 out ruffling a hair, but of that there is a doubt. 
 He was always so fond of the adjutant that 
 it is likely there were times when he overdid 
 his praise. 
 
 One noonday they went into the hills back 
 of the ridge field, and from there into the 
 prairie that lay behind the hills. Rumor had 
 reached them that a bunch of a hundred or 
 more wild steers had been seen heading south 
 ward by Skull Creek, and it was possible that 
 a few of the Circle-B brand were among 
 them. If so, Butternut, aided by Adjutant 
 Snuffles, would cut them out and change their 
 course toward the uplands. 
 
 " Terrapin," the calico pony, moved at a 
 rhythmic gait over the plain, and the dog 
 gamboled gleefully beside him. The Lamb 
 kin rocked easily in the saddle, and looked 
 with pleased eye at the country round. He 
 
 10 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 had seen it all before, but for some reason, on 
 this particularly fine afternoon, it seemed 
 fresh to him, and he rejoiced to be abroad. 
 Occasionally he whistled or sang, or smote his 
 pony in the flank, and once he bent over like 
 a greenbrier and catching the adjutant by the 
 slack of his hide, hoisted him banteringly in 
 the air. 
 
 Soon a line of brown knolls ruffled the 
 horizon ahead, and he knew that beyond them 
 lay the creek. The adjacent valley was spot 
 ted with many cattle, and the drove he was 
 seeking he hoped to find within a mile or two 
 of the ford. Presently leaving the worn trail, 
 he journeyed diagonally across the plain, 
 Snuffles whisking blithely in advance, and a 
 quarter of a mile in this direction brought 
 them to the top of the last rise before the 
 creek, over which the Lambkin rode briskly, 
 sweeping at a lively lope into the valley. 
 
 The level, as he had expected, was dotted 
 with stock of many brands, but to these he 
 gave no attention. His gaze at once skirted 
 the belt of cottonwoods lining the stream to 
 where, in a bend in the timber, were gathered 
 the wickedest collection of " long- orns " he 
 
 ii 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 had seen in many days. Large, lean, and low 
 browed, they were the very meanest of all 
 the mean breeds, their brand, the " Cross-S," 
 being long notorious from its association with 
 vicious stock. 
 
 Butternut was on the point of reining in 
 his steed when disaster was brought upon him 
 by a song. The musical " kick-rick " of a 
 giant grasshopper, wheeling his sidewise 
 flight, smote the air suddenly, and the bronco, 
 shying in affright, bundled violently to the 
 earth. The Lambkin lay morosely on the 
 ground the next instant, with a helpless leg 
 under him, and knew even before he stirred 
 that he was unable to rise. A grinding pain 
 shooting the length of his body, bade him lie 
 still, and this he did, save his head, which he 
 lifted in time to see the calico pony limping 
 toward the creek and his big sombrero, cir 
 cling away on edge, settle crown upward a 
 dozen yards from him. 
 
 And now began a most untimely business. 
 Scarce a minute had elapsed since the mishap 
 before one of the Cross-S steers espied him, 
 but gave him no particular heed. When next 
 the animal looked, however, Butternut ftad 
 
 12 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 remained so mysteriously still that he ogled 
 his head suspectingly. Finally, a stupid 
 wonder taking hold of the brute, he fixed 
 his wicked gaze on Butternut and held it 
 there. Then another caught his look, and 
 that was two, then another, which made 
 three. 
 
 Now every one knows, in the cattle coun 
 try, that there is something about a strange 
 and silent object on the plain especially 
 when it is obviously alive which excites be 
 yond all understanding the average " long- 
 orn." If still and sinister enough, such an 
 object can fill him with mingled curiosity 
 and fear, and finally, if he be of a certain 
 vicious species, he becomes enraged from 
 sheer terror, and then he is a bad customer, 
 known not infrequently to challenge tradi 
 tion and attack men. The Lambkin knew this 
 perfectly, and he knew also that he had left 
 his pistol, in its holster, hanging on a peg at 
 home; and as one after another of the steers 
 looked his way, then eyed him fixedly, then 
 came a step nearer, he began to feel a keen 
 mental discomfort which came not from the 
 suffering in his leg. 
 
 13 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Unable to stir without racking with pain, 
 he had lain motionless, regarding the curious 
 cattle with listless gaze, but the peril of his 
 predicament now flashing upon him, his look 
 became steadfast. By no means, however, 
 was he yet afraid. Too long was he accus 
 tomed to having cattle of all ages yield to his 
 hand. But despite this confidence, he was 
 soon employing the tactics of the desperate, 
 which is to laugh. Then he knew he was 
 afraid. He strove to persuade himself that 
 the hovering steers were like so many mon 
 keys trying to appear ferocious. They looked 
 ridiculous, he argued, ogling him in that 
 manner. One giant bull in particular amused 
 him by coming up in advance of his comrades 
 and gazing at him with an expression of pro- 
 foundest stupidity. He felt like getting up 
 and twisting this fellow s tail. Strange, 
 though, he thought, that none of them could 
 divert their eyes from him, and strange, too, 
 that they should continue to come nearer. 
 The foremost of the brutes were now scarcely 
 twenty yards away, and he saw that instead of 
 terror the frenzy of the baffled was in their 
 gaze. No longer able to deny his peril, he 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 began to strike his hands upon the earth and 
 to jabber insanely at the sky. A wild fear 
 went hammering at his breast, bewildering 
 him with a sensation which he hated and bat 
 tled to keep away. The cattle crowded near 
 er, swelling in number until all the horizon 
 seemed filled with horns glistening horns 
 that bristled uglily horns that were keen 
 and polished and deadly. 
 
 Butternut looked into the eyes of the for 
 ward steers, and thought the afternoon was 
 stiflingly hot. The sun streamed relentlessly 
 upon his bared head, and as the fever struck 
 him, an awful invisible weight seemed to 
 be crushing him into the sod. With swollen 
 eyes he looked again at the bristling steers, 
 and saw that they had come closer closer. 
 Not even the ending of the world, he thought, 
 could stop their advance. Raising himself 
 on his shoulder, he swore at them bitterly, 
 finishing with a groan at the twinge of an 
 guish incident to the movement. Then the 
 fever and the pain and the frenzy sent him 
 delirious. The air grew heavy with a strange 
 mist, evolving presently into curtains of gray 
 fog which floated in folds and through which 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 everything leaped and fell and floundered 
 drowningly. He was lost in a billowy sea, 
 amid writhing fantastic shapes. Or was it 
 one gigantic dragon, with numberless horns 
 and legs? Before he could decide, the objects 
 dwindled into tiny yellow spots, which were 
 joined by others until there was a great 
 swarm, and at times they went crowding 
 everywhere, rushing and tumbling in tangled 
 ranks and files, then they would all swing into 
 one huge yellow ball which zigzagged de 
 moniacally on his vision and came bowling 
 down upon him alone! His head went IOW T 
 and lay upon the sod. A planet sat on his 
 shoulders, crushing him to the center of the 
 earth. 
 
 But Adjutant Snuffles by this time had 
 grown curious. He had gone no farther than 
 the creek, where, halting in the hollow under 
 the cottonwoods, he wondered what was de 
 taining the procession. Having been far in 
 advance at the time of the mishap, the inci 
 dent had escaped his notice; accordingly, 
 after some moments of patient waiting, he 
 returned to the level and searched the land 
 scape for information. Across the open the 
 
 16 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 full significance of Butternut s plight would 
 have been clear to a calm man s eye, but the 
 adjutant s comprehension gathered nothing 
 more than that it was some kind of a game. 
 He accordingly cast about for his part in the 
 play, which was not apparent until his eye 
 fell a second time on the Lambkin s sombrero 
 lying crown up in the open. Then his pur 
 pose became clear he must annihilate this 
 thing. He had despised and hated it ever 
 since Butternut hung it over his eyes and 
 made him wear it twice around the yard, so 
 to destroy it was clearly the only thing to do. 
 It happened, therefore, that the adjutant, 
 his white teeth gleaming expectantly, dashed 
 across the level and fastening fiercely upon 
 the big hat, began to shake it in the manner 
 of his breed when engaged in a bout with 
 rats. But this was no barn-yard task. The 
 sombrero, of the texture of leather, refused 
 to be demolished, and all the adjutant could 
 do was to swing it viciously about, and bear 
 ing it banner-like, run rapidly back and forth. 
 Presently it occurred to him that the cam 
 paign might be waged to better advantage on 
 higher ground, and he ran up the hill looking 
 
 7 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 west. Along its summit he sped, swinging 
 the banner everywhere, until finally it caught 
 the eye of a sunburnt horseman in leggings 
 who, in the company of a lady, had ridden 
 into view down by the ford. 
 
 " Splinter my stirrups! " said this man, as 
 rising on his gaunt legs, he regarded the mo 
 tions on the hill very curiously. He was 
 Foreman Jimsey of the " Twin Bar," engaged 
 upon the important mission of escorting a 
 strange and handsome young woman from 
 the railroad station to his headquarters. 
 
 Now Jimsey knew the adjutant well, and 
 beholding his singular actions, was disposed 
 to make inquiry. He therefore addressed a 
 few hurried words of apology to the lady, and 
 wheeling eagerly from the trail, approached 
 the top of the knoll at a gentle lope. Soon 
 he was near enough to identify the object in 
 Snuffles s grasp, and this so deepened his con 
 cern that he quickened pace to a swift gallop. 
 
 " Curyis almighty curyis," said he. 
 
 As for the adjutant, his one desire in life 
 being to demolish that which he had so long 
 despised, he was too much engrossed to even 
 see Jimsey as he swung over the hill. Im- 
 
 18 
 
A PRAIRIE MATINEE 
 
 mediately, however, he paused as the sound 
 of rapid shots smote the slope, and with his 
 forefeet in the pest and the tough brim fast 
 in his teeth, turned to view the valley. 
 
 Foreman Jimsey was riding like mad, and 
 firing his big pistol into the Cross-S ranks. 
 So close was he that, bending low to a level 
 with their horns, he could lash the weapon 
 along the face of the front line. They 
 swerved, bellowing, and some, bitten by bul 
 lets, flinched, but again he crowded them 
 furiously until the funnels of smoke reached 
 their eyes. They wavered an instant, which 
 gave him the field, and wheeling and stooping 
 in the stirrups, he lifted Butternut by the belt. 
 He rode next in a half-circle, then in a 
 straight line, bearing out and away, and it was 
 then the adjutant howled. As they swept up 
 the slant toward him, he ceased his onslaught 
 on the sombrero, discovering a frantic inter 
 est in these new movements. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 THE spectacle of her late escort galloping 
 toward her with a man across his saddle, and 
 a dog and a pony trailing after him was some 
 thing which the young woman waiting by the 
 ford viewed with round and wondering eyes. 
 
 The Lambkin, on a blanket in the shade, 
 was laid close by the creek, and under fre 
 quent and copious applications of water was 
 quick to revive. And upon opening rational 
 eyes and observing, instead of a menacing 
 line of horns, a serious-eyed and smartly 
 dressed young woman sitting by him, the 
 effect upon him was battery-like. Here was 
 romance, indeed, beyond his most fantastic 
 imaginings. 
 
 Jimsey, with saplings, thongs, and the 
 skill of an Indian, was contriving an " am 
 bulance " a little way up the bank, while the 
 
 20 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 three ponies browsed tranquilly in the adja 
 cent bushes. The alert adjutant, having by 
 accident frightened a dozing turtle into the 
 water, was barking importantly at the spot 
 where it had disappeared. 
 
 The Lambkin s first move told him that 
 his leg was not for use, but through the re 
 sulting pain he gave the girl a weary smile. 
 
 " You seem to have the best of me, 
 
 ma am." 
 
 She made a little commanding gesture. 
 
 " You must keep very, very still," she said, 
 and tried to get a stern note in her voice. 
 
 " Oh, I wasn t goin to stampede," he said, 
 assuringly. " At least not without lettin you 
 know. What s Jimsey makin ? " 
 
 " He s fixing a stretcher to get you 
 home." 
 
 " Yes! Then while we re waitin , ma am, 
 if it s all the same to you, I ll introduce my 
 self. My name is Jones Charley Jones." 
 
 He looked at her in such an innocently 
 expectant way that she flushed, hesitated, then 
 said, simply: 
 
 " Miss Thurston." 
 
 He knew that it was not embarrassment 
 21 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 that had made her hesitate, for she had the 
 confident bearing of one bred in the cities and 
 accustomed to talking with men. 
 
 " You re not long in these parts, Miss 
 Thurston," he drawled, politely. 
 
 " I got here only to-day from Kansas 
 City. Mr. Jimsey met me at the station." 
 
 " You visitin on the Twin Bar? " 
 
 He talked well for a cowboy, she thought, 
 and she liked, too, the cleanliness of his polka- 
 dot tie. 
 
 " Not socially," she answered. " My 
 uncle, in Missouri, is thinking of buying the 
 place, and sent me down to inspect it." Then, 
 reading the further questioning in his gaze, 
 she went on : " He depends a good deal on 
 me in such matters, spending all of his time in 
 politics, and I really know more than he does 
 about business and values." 
 
 The Lambkin suppressed a strong inclina 
 tion to whistle. 
 
 " Well," he said, deliberatingly, " I hope 
 you ll buy it. How does the country suit you 
 what you ve seen of it? " 
 
 " I am much pleased, except that it looks 
 dreadfully lonesome. But I suppose that is 
 
 22 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 because one can see so far on the plains. Do 
 you never get tired living here?" 
 
 " Never. It s as near the center of the 
 earth as Rome." 
 
 She smiled quizzically. 
 
 "What do you know about Rome?" 
 
 The Lambkin flushed as he said, evenly: 
 
 "Not a great deal, ma am; but I ve seen 
 it once on the map ; and since they built the 
 pyramids there I ve tried to keep in touch 
 with the place." 
 
 She fidgeted. 
 
 " You don t talk like a college-bred man." 
 
 " I can talk better on a pinch, ma am." 
 
 He was smiling, and she fidgeted again. 
 This quiet man with a drawl and a broken 
 leg was too much for her. 
 
 " Why do you wish we would buy the 
 Twin Bar? " 
 
 " Well, I think you d make a good neigh 
 bor, and that we could entertain you. We ve 
 got some powerfully distinguished folks on 
 our place Bismarck, Spartacus, and Gen 
 eral Custer " 
 
 "Mercy! Who are they?" 
 
 " They re a bear, a bull, and a goat. Bis* 
 
 23 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 marck and the General belong to us, but 
 Spartacus, he just comes around and boards 
 occasionally. If you settle here, you ll have 
 to pay em a visit. You ll like them amaz- 
 in ly, and you ll interest them because 
 you re a most interestin young woman." 
 
 She looked quickly to see if this was im 
 pudence, but his face was all frankness. 
 
 " I suppose I ought to thank you," she 
 said; " but why do you think I m interest 
 ing? " 
 
 "Well," drawled the Lambkin, "partly 
 because you re a prospective neighbor, and 
 partly because you ve lied to me." 
 
 She colored violently to the hair, while 
 he went on, serenely: 
 
 " You called yourself < Miss Thurston ! " 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " You should have said * Catherine 
 Cloud !" 
 
 She did not know whether to look help 
 less or defiant. 
 
 " Haven t you seen anything round here 
 that belongs to you?" he asked, gently. 
 
 " You mean the dog < Boodler ? " 
 
 " We call him Snuffles, ma am. The 
 
 24 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 way you looked at him told me he was an old 
 friend of yours. He s grown considerably, 
 and has lost his collar, but you recognized 
 him. Would you like to take him to-day, 
 ma am? " 
 
 She could not know how much this cost 
 him, he said it so lightly. 
 
 Before she could reply, Jimsey, with a 
 knowing smile and the remark, " I notice 
 ye re introduced," had led the calico pony, 
 drawing the ambulance, between them. He 
 had hitched Terrapin to a couple of poles, 
 as to the shafts of a buggy, and stretched a 
 blanket between in a way that made a not 
 uncomfortable conveyance. He now gath 
 ered the Lambkin in a roll and placed him 
 gently on the stretcher, then, glancing casu 
 ally at the sun, turned to the girl with regret 
 in his face. 
 
 " I m sorry I can t finish the journey with 
 you, miss, but it s only an hour s ride, and you 
 can make it easy fore sundown. The trail 
 is plain, and I trust you re not afear d to try 
 it alone." 
 
 " By no means," she said, quickly. " I 
 only hope you ll get him to a physician as 
 3 25 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 soon as it s possible or to some one who can 
 manage him," with a vengeful glance at 
 Butternut. 
 
 " Jimsey," he drawled, irrepressibly, " she 
 was afraid I d jump a tree." 
 
 The foreman led her pony to her and 
 assisted her to mount. " There s only one 
 fork, miss," he called, as she rode splashing 
 across the ford and ascended the opposite 
 bank, " where you take the south road. Tell 
 the boys they needn t look for me till morn- 
 in ." To the Lambkin, as she disappeared 
 beyond the horizon of the bank, he added, 
 warmly: "There s a monstrous peart gal." 
 
 She had made no move toward taking 
 charge of Snuffles, and as the cowboy was not 
 particular that she should, he had not men 
 tioned the matter again. 
 
 Jimsey s praises had only begun. For the 
 first three miles, as he led the injured Butter^ 
 nut on his strange vehicle over the back trail, 
 he talked of nothing save this young lady 
 from Missouri, her mission, and the little of 
 her history that he knew. Whether this was 
 due to a strong friendly interest in her (it 
 could not have been more, for Jimsey was 
 
 26 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 already a much involved and thoroughly sat 
 isfied husband) or to his simple desire as a 
 loyal neighbor to give Butternut the news, 
 is not known, but it is certain that no topic 
 could have been more to the Lambkin s 
 choice. It may be, too, that the foreman, who 
 felt himself a born match-maker, with that 
 marvelous perception inevitable with the spe 
 cies, had scented in the air certain delightful 
 possibilities. One of his earliest remarks 
 after leaving the ford seems to sustain this 
 view: 
 
 " Lambkin, if I was single and know d 
 as much as you about things besides stock, I 
 ain t so all-fired certain t I wouldn t set up to 
 her!" 
 
 Butternut sought to elaborate on this joke. 
 
 " You think there d be a chance, Jimsey? " 
 he said, with innocent earnestness. 
 
 Now Jimsey of course knew that this was 
 the young woman whose name Butternut had 
 been putting at the end of a question and 
 whose dog he had been caring for these last 
 three months, and nobody, he thought, could 
 want a better start than that. 
 
 " Chaince, Lambkin! Chaince! Why, 
 27 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 I m blamed if you ain t got a double-girted 
 cinch and a down-hill pull! And ain t she 
 a lily-queen? Well, I should jedge. Ye see, 
 I know d she was comin cause Boss and her 
 uncle been keepin the mails hot for two 
 months, and last week come a letter sayin he 
 was sendin his secretary and niece, i Miss 
 Catherine Cloud I come nigh jumpin 
 clean out o my spurs at the name to look 
 over the place, with full authority to close, 
 subjeck of course to their lawyers approvin 
 the papers. Well, of course they was a 
 chaince o there bein two ladies o the same 
 name, so after meetin her this mornin I kept 
 sorter quiet till we d traveled a mile or so, 
 then I said, mighty casual: * Your dawg s 
 been in this section some time, ain t he? and 
 you orter seen her face. It lit up like fire 
 works, and then she told me how the dawg 
 was given her by some friends in Los Angeles 
 she was visitin , how she lost him from the 
 cyars on the way home, and how he must have 
 eat up his tag, for she never got track of him. 
 Then I told her all about you Your leg 
 hurtin , Butternut?" 
 
 The Lambkin had groaned. 
 28 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 " Jimsey Jimsey, you didn t hint that I d 
 been lookin for her? " 
 
 He adroitly reasoned that she would at 
 tribute his anxiety not so much to return the 
 dog as to see the owner, which, being true, 
 was something he of course preferred to con 
 ceal. 
 
 " Lambkin," said the foreman, in a pained 
 voice, " you mustn t take me for a centiped. 
 I jest told her you was a gradgit, and that 
 you d been takin monstrous good care o her 
 dawg nothin more." 
 
 Butternut could now understand why a 
 sudden playful whim could have caused the 
 girl, knowing him as her dog s keeper, to 
 withhold her name. 
 
 " She s mighty well fixed," persisted Jim 
 sey. " Her uncle is a senator or somethin or 
 other, and buys ranches for pastime. You 
 better set up to her." 
 
 The Lambkin laughed uncontrollably. 
 
 " Jimsey, you ve done a whole lot for me 
 to-day, but I m obliged to say you re a damn 
 fool." 
 
 Nevertheless, he had found something not 
 unpleasant in Jimsey s remarks, and they set 
 
 29 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 him to musing in a sort of whimsical fash 
 ion. He believed he had read in the girl s 
 eyes that she was a long way from him, but 
 that did not prevent him from dwelling with 
 relish on the thought that he had passed a 
 half-hour with her in right friendly converse. 
 He began to wish that he had made more of 
 himself at twenty-six than a cowpuncher, 
 and to wonder if in the game of life, so far 
 as he had traveled it, he could not have 
 played to better advantage. His standards 
 had suddenly become what he supposed were 
 the standards of this girl from Missouri, and 
 in the pigeon-holes of his past he went delv 
 ing for an excuse for his splendorless show 
 ing. There came to his mind that period 
 when, by managing the principal s corre 
 spondence and wielding a labored nightly 
 pen in the interest of a few country journals, 
 he had made his way to the end of the college 
 term. Colorless days were they sometimes, 
 when his only luxury was butternuts, and 
 that because they made no demand on his 
 purse, his access to the master s store (sup 
 plied by a thoughtful gentleman in Ohio) 
 enabling him to keep his pocket and stomach 
 
 30 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 filled when other ways were scant. His jocu 
 lar companions, when they named him, had 
 never suspected that frequently he had noth 
 ing more to eat. The way he had surmounted 
 obstacles in the old days showed that he had 
 had ambitions and delusions, but it was cer 
 tain that these had not troubled him through 
 later years, while his poverty had continued 
 to flourish nobly. And what would she say 
 to that? Thus unconsciously and most pre 
 sumptuously he involved the girl from Mis 
 souri in his fancies as he journeyed with a 
 broken leg over the plain. 
 
 It was three weeks, despite Scotty s best 
 offices, before the Lambkin left his bed, and 
 six before he again bestrode the calico pony. 
 A lover of books, however, the whole inert 
 period was like a holiday to him, save when 
 Jimsey rode the twenty miles once a week to 
 see him. That gentleman s visits, Scotty gath 
 ered early, were as much a source of exasper 
 ation as of pleasure to the patient, though the 
 young doctor never stayed to hear some of the 
 matters reported on by the garrulous foreman. 
 At certain points of their talk Scotty would 
 withdraw to water the larkspurs or feed the 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 bear Bismarck, and more than once, reenter- 
 ing the room, was he just in time to see the 
 departing Jimsey catch on his elbow a copy 
 of Vanity Fair, or an equally heavy volume, 
 intended for his head. 
 
 " Captain Kitty," as she was becoming 
 known throughout the section, had bought 
 the Twin Bar, and her uncle was expected 
 down from Missouri in September. She had 
 made no changes on the rolls, and Jimsey 
 thought her the sun, moon, and stars of the 
 range, save on one subject Butternut. The 
 simple foreman was disappointed at her ap 
 parent lack of interest in the cowboy, which 
 he could not understand, and it tried his heart 
 not to be able to say on his weekly visits, 
 " Lambkin, she asked about you." Once only, 
 a month after the incident at the ford, had 
 she mentioned him, and then it was to ask 
 the foreman casually if the cowboy he had 
 taken home that day on a stretcher ever got 
 well. And Jimsey, swearing under his 
 breath, had been tempted to say that he had 
 died, just to see if her face would not show 
 that she had been " puttin on " a little. 
 
 As for the Lambkin, he would have been 
 32 
 
THE LAMBKIN AND THE LADY 
 
 surprised indeed had she sent to the Circle-B 
 any particular inquiries about him. Her 
 maidenly reticence was in perfect accord 
 with his very high opinion of her, and he 
 would have even been disappointed at any 
 expressed interest on her part. It was this 
 keener appreciation which so provoked him 
 with the senseless Jimsey. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 " GENERAL CUSTER " 
 
 " SPARTACUS," King o the Plains, came 
 with a soft roar from the underbrush. His 
 great brindle eyes, gleaming wickedly in the 
 firelight, looked over the shoulder of Butter 
 nut, who was nearest. His back, which it 
 took a tall man to see over, hid half the 
 horizon. 
 
 " Wow! " cried the Lambkin, with a mo 
 tion toward his belt. McCormick, the giant, 
 stared helplessly at the stars. 
 
 " Don t ye dare, Lambkin! " he wheezed. 
 " He ain t bellered! " This in a chattering 
 hope. 
 
 So they waited, breathless, while the king 
 sized them up. Apparently he thought well 
 of them, for he only roared. Had he bel 
 lowed, it would have been time to clear the 
 vicinity, as in that case they feared every inch 
 of his mountainous body. 
 
 34 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 "Wow!" repeated Butternut, in a swift 
 breath. There was silence for a time. Mc- 
 Cormick stood, his back to the fire, stretched 
 with the luxurious sense of a man living 
 again, and looked thoughtfully off into the 
 shadows. The tread of the king came faintly 
 in the short mesquit woods. 
 
 It was months since the bull had been 
 seen in the neighborhood of the Circle-B, 
 and Talbot, the foreman, and his cowboys, 
 who in other days had been taught to go 
 about with weapons at half-rest and a wary 
 eye on the landscape, had begun to take cheer 
 in the belief that he had made his home on 
 some distant range. To have him turn up, 
 therefore, in this unexpected way was de 
 pressing. 
 
 Nobody dared to say they owned him, as 
 to do so would immediately bring them to 
 law in response to an endless list of damage 
 claims, while his brands were too obscured 
 by the scars of combats to show where he be 
 longed. Without question, he was the big 
 gest and wickedest bull in the whole brown 
 country. McCormick had on one or two 
 occasions set out to slay him, but unfortu- 
 
 35 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 nately in each case had forgotten it. At least 
 it was supposed that was the way of it, for 
 on no account should it be hinted that the 
 giant was not the man to carry out his inten 
 tions. Most persons were confused when it 
 came to looking Spartacus in the eye. He 
 was so tough and massive that bullets, even 
 if they pierced his flint hide, might have noth 
 ing more than an irritating effect, in which 
 case men were few who would care to be on 
 the same acre of ground with him. 
 
 The king s horns alone monstrous affairs 
 which he wore with pride were a long his 
 tory of battles, being cracked and chipped 
 from base to tip, while his great shaggy face, 
 battered and scar-marked, told of a life of 
 wickedness and crime. He fought his way 
 from range to range, and the agitation of a 
 stampede was his delight. 
 
 Talbot and four comrades had been for 
 some days on a ride up the divide, and were 
 nearing home with that sense of peace and 
 restfulness natural to men after a season of 
 hard service. They were serenely figuring 
 upon lying around for a spell, allowing them 
 selves to be disturbed only in case of fire or 
 
 36 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 flood. But this sudden appearance of Sparta- 
 cus threw them into a fever. It was surpris 
 ing, the sense of deep uneasiness which the 
 presence of the bull could put in a man s 
 breast. Not necessary at all that he should 
 be at one s heels. Anywhere in the same gen 
 eral locality was enough. 
 
 On this occasion McCormick was most 
 affected. He turned presently, breathing 
 through his teeth, and swung a menacing 
 weapon into view. 
 
 " Fellers, if me and that beast ever meet 
 ag in, it ll be the last time! " 
 
 " A remark I ve heard once or twice be 
 fore," drawled Butternut, between drafts on 
 a pipe, the puffing of which the excitement 
 had caused him to suspend. " It strikes me 
 you ve just missed a dazzlin opportunity." 
 
 The giant growled and kicked a stick into 
 the fire. 
 
 "Yeh don t say! He wuzn t comin fer 
 me, wuz he? I reckon nobody s lookin to 
 murder him." 
 
 The Lambkin laughed musically. 
 " Of course not. Nobody wants the ad 
 vantage of him. But, say? " 
 
 37 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 "Well, say it." The behest was unani 
 mous. 
 
 " I was just thinkin . S pose he meets the 
 general? " 
 
 The question, carelessly offered, caught 
 them simultaneously, and silence like a blan 
 ket enfolded them. For a full minute each 
 was lost in speculation. 
 
 General Custer had come to the Circle-B 
 some weeks before, with mud on his short, 
 straight horns and cactus needles in his beard. 
 From somewhere in the sweeps of the plain 
 he had come, sidling, not timidly, but with 
 the arrogance of a person approaching his 
 own house. Though all visible evidence 
 pointed to his being lost, the fact, if he was 
 conscious of it, gave him no concern. He 
 was an exceedingly serious-minded goat, to 
 whom the permanent loss of his bearings was 
 a circumstance too trifling for notice. 
 
 The cowboys might have rejoiced more at 
 his arrival had it not been for the ill-man 
 nered way in which he " put up " at the 
 ranch. He did this exactly as if he were boss 
 of the place, ignoring the authority of every 
 one, even to Talbot, who viewed him with a 
 
 38 
 
" GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 stern eye from behind a corner of the stable, 
 but was forced to flee to the hay-loft for 
 safety. Did any one but regard the general 
 evilly, he would divine it on the instant and 
 come for the particular offender with an 
 arrow-like speed and a marvelously accurate 
 aim. As a consequence the cowboys were 
 continually dodging and leaping from his 
 path, until Talbot declared that their agility 
 excelled anything he had seen them previ 
 ously display, even on the liveliest occasions. 
 For this very prowess, however, at stirring 
 up things, his business-like ways being most 
 diverting, they suffered him to remain, know 
 ing, too, that there could be no particular dis 
 comfort in his presence so long as they be 
 haved themselves and allowed him to run the 
 ranch. They began, then, to watch for his 
 approval before venturing on any moves 
 which might be ill-timed, and it often became 
 a matter of rivalry among them as to who 
 could cross the vacant ground between the 
 house and the corrals with the least show of 
 concern, the general standing meanwhile in 
 the open, his gaze directed quizzically tow 
 ard them, while he chewed placidly a bit of 
 
 39 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 broken stirrup-leather or an outcast saddle- 
 girth. 
 
 It was this characteristic of the goat 
 this stubborn idea with which he seemed to 
 have been born, of having absolute right of 
 way over all living objects, regardless of pro 
 portions which brought him now so strik 
 ingly to the minds of Talbot and his com 
 panions. 
 
 Since the hour of his arrival he had con 
 ducted himself on this principle, but now 
 from out of the blue North there had come a 
 famed gladiator who, if their paths met and 
 there was any show of officiousness, would 
 demolish him, and the sound of whose voice 
 alone should make him tremble. But therein 
 lay the general s stupidity. He had not the 
 intelligence to tremble at anything, and they 
 knew that he would regard this monarch of 
 the prairies as an insect which a whiff of his 
 breath would cause to fade into the horizon. 
 And when the king should refuse to vanish 
 and ignore his bluster, there would be trouble 
 which, as a matter of course, could only mean 
 the ending of the general. Their anxiety, 
 then, was deep for the " little fellow," whose 
 
 40 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 inexhaustible meanness had made them love 
 him. McCormick especially regarded his 
 peril in a serious light and Spartacus had 
 headed toward the ranch. 
 
 They struck the trail early next morning, 
 and rode with speed, intending to reach home 
 by noon. The brushwoods stood thinner and 
 thinner as they advanced, dwindling finally 
 to a scattering growth which told them that 
 the prairie was at hand. Toward the end of 
 the morning they emerged upon the broad 
 sweep of rolling plain at the farther edge of 
 which stood the ranch-houses, smaller than 
 blackbirds in the distance. 
 
 That Spartacus had gone before was evi 
 dent, for occasionally in a soft spot of the 
 trail McCormick would pause to direct atten 
 tion to the marks of the bull s great hoof. 
 Nor was- it long before they came up to him. 
 By the roadside, between two knolls, he was 
 browsing leisurely, from time to time taking 
 a step in the direction of the ranch. 
 
 McCormick at once called the company 
 to a halt, and said, with earnestness : 
 
 " Fellers, this hyer s a serious matter. 
 Somebody must hold him back while some- 
 4 41 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 body else goes V gits the general into a safe 
 place." 
 
 " Easy enough in part," remarked the 
 gentle Lambkin, with a glance at the king s 
 magnificent horns. " I ll agree to tend to the 
 goat, and " bending with some impatience 
 toward the giant " I s pose you re achin 
 to do the holdin back? " 
 
 The words stung the giant. He was in 
 the exact mood to take them as a direct af 
 front. He looked savagely at Butternut, and 
 from him to Spartacus, and his mind seemed 
 made up to something. Dismounting, he re 
 moved a long lariat of triple strength from 
 his saddle-horn, his fingers working with 
 vicious swiftness. Then he slid his six- 
 shooter into the saddle-bags, and passed 
 the bridle of his mount to the Lambkin, 
 whose word of restraint sank at once in his 
 throat. 
 
 " Close up you! " commanded the giant. 
 " I want no interference, and I ll hev none." 
 With a gesture of his fist toward the king: 
 " Me and that animal hev been on ill terms 
 for some time, V it behooves us to settle our 
 account squar . I ll tackle him afoot, n if 
 
 42 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 ye watch close, ye ll see him roped V staked 
 with less trouble V a lame colt." 
 
 He was clearly at ill temper, and when 
 the giant reached that state no one was in the 
 habit of venturing advice, especially when, as 
 in this case, his anger overbalanced all judg 
 ment. His intention was to lasso the king, 
 drive the picket-pin at the rope s other end 
 into the earth with his heel, and, before the 
 bull could reach him, leap beyond the play 
 of the lariat. Ticklish business, indeed, but 
 that was his plan. His state of mind, too, left 
 him with a reckless desire to make the exploit 
 as hazardous as possible. To show his pre 
 tended contempt for the bull, he deliberately 
 walked in a half-circle around him, halting 
 at the top of the slope beyond a useless 
 maneuver, which left him facing, unmounted 
 and unarmed, the wickedest pair of horns in 
 the Pecos Valley. Spartacus for the moment 
 was tranquil, but the buzzing of a fly was 
 enough to turn the tide of his temper. 
 
 The giant arranged the noose, and curved 
 his long body into position for the cast, while 
 his mounted audience gave breathless atten 
 tion. The next moment the loop went spin- 
 
 43 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ning a graceful flight, and the audience 
 groaned as it saw that he had not calculated 
 sufficiently for the slope of the land. Spar- 
 tacus, lifting his head at the instant, presented 
 a clear target, but the noose, falling short by 
 a few inches, merely struck him across the 
 nose! 
 
 Immediately the king lowered his head, 
 while he roared in sudden anger at the giant, 
 who squared himself for the leap of his life. 
 Another roar, then a bellow, and the cowboy, 
 squatting with his hands on his thighs, awaited 
 the lunge. Could he but dodge the first sweep 
 of the horns there would be a fair chance of 
 his reaching his bronco. But a miraculous 
 interruption spared him the effort. 
 
 The king was on the point of charging 
 when his eye caught a new object, and he 
 hesitated. This object was nothing more than 
 a solemn-looking head, with two straight 
 horns and a wagging beard, which bobbed at 
 this juncture over the summit of the knoll. 
 
 The general was in a reverie, as usual, 
 and chewed meditatively on a weed, his head 
 cocked sidewise against the breeze. On the 
 brow of the knoll, however, he became 
 
 44 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 suddenly aware that the present moment 
 promised something of greater interest than 
 memories of other days. He regarded the 
 delegation before him with a thoughtful and 
 critical eye. He had the important manner 
 of a new overseer. His beard rose and fell 
 reflectively until he was given the expression 
 of a sage. 
 
 The audience and McCormick looked at 
 the king. He had paused with the first step 
 of his rush, and was now gazing with curios 
 ity at this venerable citizen who had come so 
 unceremoniously upon his vision. It was not 
 unlikely that he had never seen such a beast 
 before, for in those days goats were few on 
 the Pecos range. Again he started up the 
 slant, and again he came to a halt to look in 
 astonishment at the creature before him. The 
 general, on the summit above, tilted his head 
 at a new angle and looked ever so w r ise. 
 
 Spartacus roared softly, raking the earth 
 with his front hoof and switching his tail, 
 and McCormick suddenly found himself an 
 outside party to an embarrassing piece of 
 business. Some distance away he assumed a 
 respectful attitude, his chin in his hand. 
 
 45 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Spartacus roared again sullenly perhaps 
 it was the beard that puzzled him so then 
 advanced slowly, bellowing. His head swung 
 lower in the dust, and his great hoof at in 
 tervals pawed the trail, lifting the earth in 
 clouds which showered on his back, cover 
 ing the red and white spots. Whatever this 
 thing this beast with a beard he would 
 annihilate it. But now came an amazing 
 performance. 
 
 The general stood suddenly on his hind- 
 legs, bleating like a young bully unable 
 longer to restrain himself. Then he waltzed 
 off at an angle, and, doubling sharply from 
 a new quarter, came plump against the big 
 brute s side with the force of a battering- 
 ram. The astounded spectators saw the king 
 stagger and heard his mighty bellow of rage, 
 then the battle was on with a swiftness and 
 fury that took the power of motion from 
 them. A gasp from Talbot, a howl from 
 McCormick, and they were rigid with sus 
 pense. 
 
 The general assailed his adversary at an 
 gles and from all sides. In a manner rapid 
 and dexterous he evaded the rushes of the 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 king, who charged repeatedly, bellowing and 
 sweeping up the earth in his frenzy. Each 
 thrust of the bull was calculated to end the 
 business, but the goat seemed always in a 
 safe place. 
 
 The general wheeled and dodged in in 
 numerable circles and squares, and, calculat 
 ing his time to the second, at intervals went 
 in and established his forehead in the enemy s 
 flank. The sound when he did this was like 
 a blow on an empty barrel. And the bull 
 would bellow again furiously, and it would 
 seem that they fought amid smoke, so thick 
 was the dust which rose, fog-like, choking 
 the air until one could but dimly see the 
 combatants and catch faintly the red gleam 
 of the king s eyes. The general was every 
 where in the commotion, wheeling and dodg 
 ing with bewildering speed, and when he 
 periodically landed on his adversary, the re 
 bound was as though he were an object of 
 india-rubber. He feinted and countered and 
 thrust with a skill that was dazzling, and 
 seemed to be following a planned line of bat 
 tle. There was a veteran s generalship on his 
 side, and lumbering overconfidence on the 
 
 47 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 part of the bull, who, finding his great 
 strength of so little importance, grew dis 
 turbed in mind and, in consequence, awk 
 ward. His lunges were terrific but ill-timed, 
 and the general evaded them in a manner so 
 scientific as to fairly stupefy the wondering 
 audience. Again and again would the king 
 sweep at him, bellowing, only to swing into 
 space and in the same instant feel the weight 
 of his enemy against his ribs. These repeated 
 persistent bumps were as violent as the blows 
 of a sledge. They began to tell upon the 
 king. Their machine-like regularity grew 
 monotonous. The great horns cleaved the air 
 fiercely, but with less precision. Unable to 
 inspire terror in his antagonist, he became so 
 enraged that his rushes came blindly. 
 
 As for the general, he gave no sign of 
 weakening. In this tempest of war he was 
 as fresh and unruffled as when enjoying a 
 frolic with the calves at dawn. He now grew 
 zealously aggressive, lest his part in the fes 
 tivities should lag, preceding each telling 
 blow with a playful bleat of challenge. 
 Spartacus finally grew tired. His body 
 swayed uncertainly through the dust-clouds, 
 
"GENERAL CUSTER" 
 
 and several inches of his tongue showed life 
 lessly. Presently the general seemed to take 
 his resistance as a personal affront, and, doub 
 ling into a ball, hurtled himself with the 
 velocity of a thunderbolt against the king s 
 belly. The bellow of the bull was changed 
 to a grunt as this happened, but he whirled 
 heroically in a world of dust which hid for 
 a moment the motions of the conflict. Then 
 out of the tumult there came the sound of a 
 succession of thumps, rapid and regular, and 
 abruptly a pair of immense horns and a mass 
 ive, dust-coated body emerged into the clear 
 air and swung at a jaded pace over the plain. 
 
 The awestricken horsemen of the Circle- 
 B looked after him until the tallest hair of 
 his back had sunk from view behind a knoll 
 and the silence of the prairies enveloped 
 them. As the dust of conflict lifted, the gen 
 eral could be seen inspecting the vegetation 
 along the slope. 
 
 "Wow!" said the Lambkin, finally, and 
 there was reverence in his voice. 
 
 McCormick passed his hand carefully 
 across his brow, as though brushing cob 
 webs from his vision. Then he executed a 
 
 49 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 strange, wild dance, chanting as he flung his 
 arms abroad: 
 
 " Oh, my queen my jewel my primy 
 donner my Lally Rook! Come Oh, come 
 tome!" 
 
 But bethinking himself, and lest the gen 
 eral should take him at his word, he gained 
 his bronco with marvelous strides, and mount 
 ed with agility and speed. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 OVER on the Twin Bar Jimsey had been 
 foreman long before Little Jimsey began to 
 toddle about and take walks with the brindle 
 calf. That had been but a few weeks ago, 
 and the calf was still very young, uncom 
 monly lively, and with the same passion for 
 cookies that had given him his name. A 
 burnt cooky to his eye was a feast, and a 
 brown one a luxury almost as unsurpassable 
 as twenty minutes of his own mother s milk. 
 
 Small Jimsey, by a private arrangement 
 with the kitchen hands, always carried a sup 
 ply of the dainties in his apron, which in 
 duced Cookies to hover so constantly in his 
 neighborhood that, as a matter of course, they 
 were chums. More, they were the idols, the 
 pride, the delight of Captain Kitty. 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 It was a pity the calf grew so fast. They 
 had made a pretty pair when of the same 
 height, waddling everywhere in company, 
 though for that matter they were still a team 
 very pleasing to look at. Small Jimsey 
 would go nowhere without Cookies, and the 
 calf was stubbornly of the same mind toward 
 Small Jimsey, so that to see one singly in the 
 open was as rare as an eclipse. Evenings 
 before dusk always found them on review, 
 and, even when Captain Kitty was not 
 around, there was not a cowboy who cared 
 when they got in his way. In making these 
 rounds they had an important air, and were 
 apparently much concerned over the proper 
 performance of every duty. For there was 
 scarcely a spot about the ranch which they 
 did not daily visit. From the cribs to the 
 cowpens, from the woodpile to the stables, 
 they sauntered, pausing at intervals to amuse 
 each other by tumbling for both were acro 
 bats these exercises always occurring be 
 tween cookies. First Small Jimsey would 
 tumble, then the calf, after some preliminary 
 flourishes, would show him how it ought to 
 have been done, then the boy would tumble 
 
 52 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 as before, signifying that he thought his way 
 the better, and Cookies would swing his head 
 negatively and again illustrate his idea of the 
 feat. And Captain Kitty, superintending, 
 would scream uncontrollably. 
 
 Matters went well until the time came to 
 brand Cookies, when there rose such a howl 
 from Small Jimsey that the irons were never 
 heated. No one could blame him for not 
 wishing to see his chum burned, his blue-and- 
 white side disfigured, though everybody knew 
 what would be the outcome. It was difficult 
 to keep an unbranded calf on the range, es 
 pecially one of Cookies breeding. They 
 started to fence him in, but there came an 
 other howl. Small Jimsey was most unrea 
 sonable. He refused to see any logic in his 
 elders, and was determined that Cookies 
 should have the whole prairie. Captain 
 Kitty iinally gave in to him, and that ended 
 it. 
 
 The expected happened at the end of just 
 two weeks. Cookies was stolen on a still and 
 moonless night when even the mosquitoes 
 were sleeping. For miles around the cow 
 boys scanned the prairie next morning, but 
 
 53 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 twas no use. The calf was " nabbed " in the 
 manner of other " mavericks," and ere this 
 was doubtless numbered in a passing herd, 
 with the map of five counties burned into 
 his hide. 
 
 Had Small Jimsey been Foreman Jimsey, 
 he would have sworn. As it was, he lay on 
 the floor and bawled systematically. They 
 expected he would subside by noon, but after 
 dinner he took a fresh start, and continued 
 a relentless wail the balance of the day. But 
 Jimsey thought it useless to follow the thieves, 
 as from the trail of their herd they were 
 clearly a good number, and he simply had 
 not the men, all but two of his cowboys being 
 away on errands of importance. So the fore 
 man could only shake his head, while Little 
 Jimsey howled afresh and Captain Kitty 
 lifted her hands in despair. 
 
 It happened that at this particular wo- 
 ful moment on the Twin Bar, Butternut, re 
 turning from a mission twenty miles north 
 ward, met a company of sinister horsemen 
 driving a bunch of beeves toward the uplands. 
 Turning aside, he gave them a wide road, 
 and, nodding civilly to the drovers, sent a 
 
 54 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 careless eye through the herd. He was on 
 the branded side of the bunch, which had 
 nearly passed him when he observed toward 
 the rear an unmarked blue-brindle calf. But 
 though he had seen this animal several times 
 when passing the Twin Bar, and knew it as 
 the beloved of Little Jimsey as well as a 
 favorite of Captain Kitty s, he rode intently 
 in the opposite direction. 
 
 " Six mavericks besides the brindle," he 
 mused. " I guess they ll do some brandin 
 to-night. Things must be in a stew at Jim- 
 sey s Terrapin, we ll have to take the back 
 trail." 
 
 This was toward the end of the after 
 noon, and the Lambkin, turning and keeping 
 just out of sight, followed the thieves until 
 they camped for the night, just across Devil s 
 River. His own blanket he spread in a hol 
 low of the hills, about half a mile from the 
 stream. 
 
 A long, steep ridge stretched on his left 
 and right, limiting narrowly his view of the 
 stars, and between these hills, blown softly up 
 the hollow as he slept, came an odor which 
 aroused him. It was a trifling thing, this 
 
 55 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 scent, but coming as it did from scorching 
 hair, it threw the Lambkin very wide-awake. 
 They had begun operations sooner than he 
 had calculated. 
 
 To Butternut at once was suggested a 
 pretty, if perilous, game. Without further re 
 flection, he took a hitch in his belt, and, feel 
 ing over the ground, gripped the ivory handle 
 of a large revolver. A moment afterward, 
 with the noiseless stride of a specter Indian, 
 he was moving down the hollow toward the 
 river, his stooping figure scarcely visible in 
 the light of the stars. 
 
 Suddenly an abrupt turning of the paral 
 lel ridges brought into his view the yellow 
 glow of a camp-fire. Thinner than cobwebs 
 was this light, and but for the time of night 
 it might have been taken for the first gray of 
 the dawn by eyes less keen than the cowboy s. 
 In the pale haze he outlined the branches of 
 a bush, which reminded him that the river 
 flowed between. He grumbled a little here. 
 Though the night was warm, the prospects 
 of a swim did not strike him as pleasant. 
 
 He kept on until presently his head and 
 shoulders bulged from a fringe of chaparral 
 
 56 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 over the river, whence he peered into the 
 shadows of the farther shore. Across the 
 stream, and a little to his left, the smoldering 
 fire still glowed, and now he could occasion 
 ally hear the piteous bawl of a brute in dis 
 tress. That they were branding was certain, 
 and he wondered if Cookies had yet been to 
 the ropes. He grinned grimly at the thought, 
 and thrust his head farther over the river in 
 his effort to pierce the gloom. Nothing of 
 definite shape could he see. The night hov 
 ered heavily about his shoulders, and every 
 thing seemed a shadow. The farthermost 
 bank was so black and fantom-like that it 
 might have been some long, dark monster in 
 wait. 
 
 The river he knew was there from the 
 gurgle of its current and the scent of mois 
 ture spreading upward. He was convinced 
 that a gathering of horses, cattle, and thieves 
 were encamped on the opposite bank, and 
 that few, if any, were asleep. Now and then 
 he glimpsed a dusky figure, pausing an instant 
 in the dull ember-light. 
 
 He resolved to move toward the glow. 
 Accordingly, he drew off his boots and hung 
 5 57 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 his sombrero and belt, with the ivory-han 
 dled weapon, in the fork of a bush. Prowl 
 ing for some moments along the verge of the 
 bank, he finally found a descent gradual 
 enough to admit of his reaching the water 
 without the noise of a plunge. Even then he 
 slid guardedly, plowing deep furrows in the 
 clay with his cautious heels. Within another 
 moment he was at the river s edge, and set 
 tling dexterously to his neck in the water, 
 balanced against the current. 
 
 As he struggled forward the glow from 
 the dim fire deepened to a hue so brilliant 
 that he no longer closed his eyes experimen 
 tally to see if he might lose it. It was an 
 assured reality. 
 
 Carefully, slowly, he swam onward, 
 planting his strokes deep that there might 
 come no sound save the ripple of the surface 
 eddying and swirling past his ears. But the 
 novelty of the proceeding and the impressive 
 quiet of it all presently took somber hold 
 upon Butternut. Out of so much silence and 
 darkness grew the thought that his hazard 
 ous errand was one of benevolence, and he 
 wondered if he were not having more trouble 
 
 58 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 and running longer chances than the object 
 of his mission was worth. He felt for the 
 first time a menacing presence in the dark 
 ness. Along the horizon of his fancy peril 
 was pointing his way. 
 
 " All for the kid," he mumbled as he 
 swam on. "And Captain Kitty," he came 
 near adding, in spite of himself. 
 
 Soon he had crossed the stream and began 
 to nose along the bottom of the bank. His 
 movements here were not unlike those of a 
 foxhound mousing along a hedge fence. 
 Presently he stopped, lifted himself clear of 
 the current, and began to cautiously ascend 
 the slant. The gravelly clay loosened in 
 places and rattled down into the water, and 
 at such times he would pause to see if the 
 noise had caused a stir above him. 
 
 Upward another yard he climbed. The 
 camp-fire shone brighter. With each lifting 
 of his body his view became clearer, while 
 more distinct were the signs of industry on 
 the plain. Listening now, he could readily 
 hear men talking. They spoke at inter 
 vals, and their voices were coarse and low 
 and deep. Butternut found a certain cheer 
 
 59 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 in their talk, though it was the speech of 
 foes. 
 
 " All for the kid," he mumbled again. 
 " And " He added it this time. 
 
 His forehead and eyes now rose above the 
 brow of the bank, and he looked between a 
 cactus and a bush. The scene was about as 
 he had imagined. The light was thrown 
 dimly where he lay, but was brighter farther 
 on where the fire was flickering smartly. 
 The embers were being stirred. 
 
 The Lambkin peered eagerly about in the 
 task of making out objects. There were four 
 men around the fire, and he thought he saw 
 another in the shadow beyond. Over to his 
 left a few large bodies were arched irregu 
 larly against the clouds. It was the begin 
 ning of the herd. Then nearer he descried 
 another bulky figure, not so large, which he 
 found it impossible to name. It lay partially 
 between him and the fire. Butternut craned 
 his neck forward in the effort to determine 
 the nature of this object. Suddenly he saw 
 it move. A portion of it turned until against 
 the firelight he glimpsed a profile with 
 which he was familiar. Cookies was con- 
 
 60 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 tentedly chewing a weed, and a grateful feel 
 ing took hold of the cowboy as he realized 
 there was time. 
 
 Meanwhile the men had finished with 
 their last " subject," and were about ready 
 for another. The branding-rods were at 
 proper heat, and the person who was to wield 
 them was getting impatient. 
 
 " For Captain Kitty," growled Butternut, 
 viciously, as he swung half of his body over 
 on the level. Cookies was hardly three feet 
 away! As the Lambkin stretched forth an 
 arm, on the very eve of victory, an appalling 
 doubt crossed his mind. He must catch a 
 leg indeed, by no mischance must he miss a 
 leg! Then came an instantaneous maneuver, 
 and the commotion began. A quick lunge 
 and a fierce clutch, then a rapid scramble 
 backward. He had seized Cookies by a hind- 
 leg and drawn him sliding to the verge, 
 where a second wrench sent them plunging 
 over the bank together. So powerful was the 
 swing that in their downward flight they 
 scarcely struck the slant, but dropped at once 
 into the river, where, like a boulder, they 
 went to the bottom. Cookies was half-stran- 
 
 61 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 gled when they rose, but the Lambkin had 
 closed his mouth, and now swam for both, 
 keeping one arm under the floundering calf s 
 neck and thus holding his nose above water 
 until time to put it under again. 
 
 And that time arrived quickly, when four 
 furious men with blazing torches came rush 
 ing along the high bank. Butternut at once 
 pulled Cookies under and dived diagonally 
 with the current. Rising for breath, he 
 found they were drifting close in by the op 
 posite shore, beyond the flare of the torches. 
 Cookies was half strangled again, which left 
 him a cumbersome burden, so laboriously 
 they kept afloat. But the Lambkin smiled a 
 wide smile, for his mission was as good as a 
 success, though there were yet times when 
 they were obliged to duck under, as when one 
 of the flaming brands was thrown out over 
 the water. 
 
 The cowboy heard the men wrangling, 
 and caught some of their talk between dives. 
 
 " Thunder," said one. 
 
 " Did ye see it? " asked another. 
 
 "Sh dsay I did!" 
 
 " What wuz it? " 
 
 62 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 " The ca af stumbled." 
 
 " Stumbled hell ! He wuz shoved! " 
 
 Then came the sput-t, sput-t of bullets 
 striking harmlessly in the dark. 
 
 There were a number of good reasons why 
 the Lambkin should make easy escape. The 
 thieves were little inclined to swim the river 
 for a brindle calf, and to saddle horse and 
 cross at the shallow ford, far up the stream, 
 would take a good half-hour. Besides, this 
 prowler might be one of a number, and they 
 could not all forsake the herd. Thus Butter 
 nut, returning with some difficulty to his 
 boots and belt, moved in peace through the 
 darkness with Cookies in charge, and joined 
 the calico pony in the hollow. 
 
 By noon the next day he had reached the 
 Twin Bar, with Cookies at the end of his 
 lariat. Jimsey, putting some shingles on the 
 bunk-house, sighted him a quarter of a mile 
 away, and descended to the yard in a fit. 
 Captain Kitty and Mrs. Jimsey, hearing the 
 foreman shout, hurried to the gate, with Lit 
 tle Jimsey, frantic with delight, at their 
 skirts. 
 
 "Well, well," drawled the Lambkin, as 
 63 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 he swung from the stirrups, " you all don t 
 seem to have been expectin me. Jimsey, you 
 got some dry hose and other things? " 
 
 He blushed violently, having forgotten 
 Captain Kitty for the moment, or rather had 
 forgotten all save her presence. 
 
 An hour later, serene in dry linen, he was 
 at dinner with them, and then in his modest 
 way he told of the rescue of Cookies. Cap 
 tain Kitty saw that he was shunning all de 
 tails involving the slightest self-credit, and 
 when he had finished and asked politely if 
 her uncle would not be down next month, 
 she thrilled him unutterably by saying, with 
 simple candor: 
 
 " You are the bravest man I ever saw." 
 
 So, it had been worth the risk after all! 
 He was glad he looked a better figure to-day 
 than he had with his leg in a sling ten weeks 
 ago. His face went crimson with his happi 
 ness, but he said, depreciatingly: 
 
 " You mustn t think that, ma am. It was 
 nothing, I m sure. Anybody Jimsey here 
 would have done the same thing." 
 
 "I don t believe it!" She whirled 
 vehemently on the unexpectant foreman. 
 
TROUBLE ON THE TWIN BAR 
 
 " Jimsey, tell me the truth. Would you have 
 done it? " 
 
 And Jimsey, cornered, let his fork fall 
 clattering, wiped his mouth with vigor, and, 
 while he colored to the ears, said, tartly: 
 
 " Madam, I m a married man, and can t 
 afford to play the fool I wouldn t" 
 
 So she turned a triumphant eye on the 
 Lambkin, but still he was swift. 
 
 " Pshaw, ma am, you ought to ve been 
 over on Broken Arrow once to ve seen some- 
 thin brave." And he told of a deed he had 
 there witnessed in a way w T hich took his own 
 exploits for a time from her mind. 
 
 Dinner over, with his hat in hand, and 
 Terrapin saddled and waiting, he bade her 
 good-by. 
 
 " When you comin over to see the nobil 
 ity, ma am? " 
 
 " I can t say until my neighbors call on 
 
 me." 
 
 Then it came to him that he had commit 
 ted another breach by forgetting the custom 
 of polite countries, but he said, evenly, as if 
 he had foreseen her reply: 
 
 " Judge Waskom, who owns our place, 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 has been away with Mrs. Waskom for two 
 months." And he added, innocently: 
 " Won t you consider this a call? " 
 
 " Of course not," she answered, smiling, 
 " since Cookies had to bring you." 
 
 Accordingly, he rode away, happy be 
 cause he knew that she drew no fine distinc 
 tions between himself and a man who owned 
 a ranch. 
 
 66 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE RIVER ROAD 
 
 IT was by Sentinel Mountain, where the 
 old Laramie Trail is joined by the road from 
 Piney Basin, that the Lambkin, quite by ac 
 cident, next met the girl from Missouri, their 
 united ways winding for a stretch of five 
 miles along the Pecos. 
 
 A land of lizards and cacti is the country 
 here, save in the flats or valleys where the 
 cattle range. Barren and bold and desolate 
 are the plains everywhere, the eye reveling 
 in distances gray and appalling. Westward, 
 a spidery blue, the chains of New Mexico 
 elbow the horizon, and it is along this five- 
 mile stretch that you can see Saddle Moun 
 tain, beyond the Rio Grande. The red river, 
 gleaming in the sun, glides slow between pre 
 cipitous bluffs so tall that to follow the 
 stream you ride high until the valleys are 
 remote and the scattered herds are like sheep 
 in the lowlands. 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 The Lambkin, traveling leisurely, was 
 watching a languid hawk wheel his graceful 
 flight against the profound blue of the sky, 
 when the girl from Missouri rode into the 
 trail behind him. She was on a pacing bay 
 pony, and her posture was that of an accom 
 plished rider. He lifted his hat, with the 
 bow of a cavalier, as he greeted her. 
 
 " Aren t you pretty far from home, 
 miss?" 
 
 She was alongside him now, and the cal 
 ico pony received a significant pressure from 
 the Lambkin s heel which told him to keep 
 abreast. 
 
 " Not a great ways," she said, smiling; 
 " I am used to riding long distances," and 
 Butternut, viewing her so unexpectedly, felt 
 his heart quicken at her unquestionable love 
 liness. To his poetic nature she seemed the 
 featured embodiment of an unfeatured ideal 
 around which, all his manhood years, he had 
 woven the hopes whose realization belongs 
 not to the fortunes of men. 
 
 " I can tell that, ma am, from the show- 
 in you make in the saddle. I ll bet you own 
 a hawss or two in Mizoura." 
 
 68 
 
THE RIVER ROAD 
 
 " Oh, yes. My uncle always keeps a few 
 pacers in his stables for my particular use. 
 Is Boodler with you to-day? " 
 
 " Yes m. He s just beyond the rise yon 
 der. He likes to scout ahead for Indians. 
 You out seein the country? " 
 
 " Yes. I make a little circuit about every 
 day, and hunt for view -points. I m begin 
 ning to like it." 
 
 He made no effort to hide his smile of 
 gratification. 
 
 " I knew you would. It s a little lone 
 some here at first, but after a while you find 
 plenty o company. All these mountains are 
 friends o mine, and those farthest away are 
 the best. That pale fellow yonder, south 
 ward, shaped like a tommyhawk he s clear 
 over in Mexico, but he knows me just the 
 same." 
 
 "How delightful!" 
 
 " That s a citizen o Texas," he went on, 
 pointing toward a lone peak on their left. 
 " We call him ( The Parson, he s so solemn. 
 Looks like an old settler, don t he? You 
 can t help wonderin how long he s been 
 there, and if he s never smiled." 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 She had followed his speech and his ges 
 tures with a childish rapture. Here was en 
 tertainment unknown in Missouri. 
 
 " You certainly know how to make them 
 interesting," she said. Then they rode for a 
 short time in silence, while below them, over 
 two hundred feet, flowed the broad, orange- 
 colored river. Eastward a white procession 
 of indolent clouds curled leisurely, like re 
 volving fantoms. 
 
 " You won t find many views better 
 than this. See that kangaroo! " 
 
 He pointed to a huge jack-rabbit bound 
 ing his diagonal flight along the face of the 
 slope on their right, and she sent a quick eye 
 in that direction. 
 
 " Gracious, what a whopper! " she gasped. 
 " His ears are as long as his legs, aren t 
 they? " 
 
 " Yes m almost. He d make an elegant 
 eavesdropper." 
 
 Starting at their very feet, the wonderful 
 leaps of the animal seemed to have already 
 carried him, a gleaming streak, a mile toward 
 the valley. 
 
 " He must a forgot somethin ," whim- 
 
 70 
 
THE RIVER ROAD 
 
 sically mused the Lambkin, " or is goin for 
 the doctor. Or do you guess he s just on a 
 hurried visit to those cattle? " 
 
 " Cattle where? " 
 
 " Down there in the valley." 
 
 She gazed intently, leaning in the saddle. 
 
 "Are those cattle? They look like the 
 animals of a child s Noah s Ark." 
 
 " They re over two miles away," he said. 
 
 He showed her Painted Mountain now, 
 and the Twin Peaks of the Purple Range, 
 and Juno s Canon, and the Blackfoot Hills 
 by Devil s River. He told her a legend or 
 two in connection with these places, and he 
 told them with strange and thrilling power. 
 The languid hawk above them circled lower, 
 as if to hear his wondrous tales. 
 
 After a time he reminded her of their 
 first meeting by asking, innocently: 
 
 " Why didn t you want to give me your 
 name, Miss Thurston?" 
 
 He was entirely unprepared for the chal 
 lenging reply, as she turned a mischievous 
 eye upon him: 
 
 " Why didn t you give me yours, Mr. 
 Butternut Jones? " and he was cornered. 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Jimsey is quite a linguist, isn t he? " 
 was all he could say. 
 
 " He talks pretty freely of you, I ll ad 
 mit. He told me how they would never have 
 known your name but for the way your sweet 
 heart addressed her letters." 
 
 "Sweetheart!" he laughed, with keen 
 relish. " That s real fine o Jimsey. I m a 
 great lover, Miss Cloud, but all my sweet 
 hearts are out here in my cabin. Lorna 
 Doone is one, and Becky Sharp another." 
 
 Jimsey having also told her of his twenty 
 books, this was no parable to her. 
 
 " That s Crockett s Canon across the val 
 ley yonder," he now said, and told her an 
 other legend. 
 
 " Davy Crockett s most famous bear-fight 
 happened in there. The canon s not half a 
 mile long, as you can see, but there s only 
 one way to get in, and even a bear would 
 need wings to get out, cept at that one open- 
 in . Crockett was pilotin some rich fellows 
 on a huntin trip, and he had dropped be 
 hind when the balance o the party ran no 
 less than five bears into that trap. As it was 
 almost night, they decided to camp at the 
 
 72 
 
THE RIVER ROAD 
 
 mouth o the gulch and pick off their quarry 
 at their leisure the next mornin . Then they 
 fixed up a game on Crockett. After he d 
 arrived and they d had supper, they got to 
 banterin each other on their courage, and 
 finally one offered to bet a hundred dollars 
 that there wasn t a man in the company who 
 would go alone to the end of the canon. 
 Crockett knew there was bear in the gorge 
 from the way the dogs acted, but he stretched 
 himself and said that although he was feelin 
 a little tired, he guessed he d take the bet. 
 Well, he went through without a scratch, and 
 he sent the skins o the five bears to General 
 Houston." 
 
 She had listened like one enthralled, and 
 again she thought there was nothing like this 
 in Missouri. After a while their road led 
 them by the very edge of the river bluff, and 
 the canon was so narrow here that it seemed 
 they might almost leap across it. 
 
 " Would you like to see a rattler, Miss 
 Cloud?" he drawled, presently. 
 
 She gave a little shriek, as if the reptile 
 had suddenly appeared in the road. 
 
 " There s quite a robust specimen over 
 6 73 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 there, sunnin himself." He pointed across 
 the river to the opposite bluff, where on a 
 sloping flat rock lay the reptile in question. 
 She shuddered. 
 
 " The horrible, creepy, slimy things! I m 
 glad he s across the river." 
 
 " Oh, he has plenty o friends on this side, 
 only they don t happen to be on parade. You 
 don t seem to have a passion for them? " 
 
 " I hate them hate them." 
 
 " Then maybe you d like to try a shot at 
 him?" 
 
 She drew rein abruptly, and so did he. 
 
 " I don t believe I d dare," she said, with 
 pretty hesitation. " I never shot a pistol." 
 
 The Lambkin became most persuasive as 
 he drew forth his ivory-handled Colt. 
 
 " Of course you ll dare," he said, and his 
 voice was smoother than rivers. " You don t 
 have to dismount. That hawss you re on is 
 about as fraid o firearms as he is of oats. 
 It s the simplest thing in the world, and I d 
 shorely like to see you wing him." 
 
 He of course knew that she would be 
 lucky if she hit the side of the blujff, but his 
 face betokened every confidence in her skill. 
 
 74 
 
THE RIVER ROAD 
 
 So she, thinking perhaps what an exploit this 
 would be to mention in her letters home, 
 yielded finally, taking the weapon in both 
 hands. As he adjusted it in her grasp, his 
 hand upon her fingers, he thrilled a little, and 
 it was not for the fate of the rattler. As she 
 lifted the pistol he backed away cautiously, 
 for he saw from her marvelous aim that this 
 was ticklish business. Adjutant Snuffles, pok 
 ing his head suddenly from behind a boulder, 
 was signaled to stay out of danger. The cir 
 cling hawk wheeled nearer as if to view this 
 performance. 
 
 "Higher higher, ma am!" he called. 
 "You re shootin at the river! And don t 
 close both eyes! " 
 
 "I wasn t you know I wasn t!" she 
 cried, viciously; to take him seriously afford 
 ing her a pretext for delay. Then at once 
 she fired courageously, and with frightened 
 gaze looked for the result. There was no 
 perceptible movement of the rattler save a 
 drowsy lifting of his head in gentle inquiry 
 at the noise. 
 
 "Once more!" laughed the Lambkin, 
 and she fired again and even a third time 
 
 75 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 with the same effect. Then she quit in 
 disgust. 
 
 " You ll have to do it for me," she said, 
 and the Lambkin trailed a deadly eye down 
 the barrel. At that distance, being a fair 
 shot, he could pepper all around the target, 
 and perhaps once in six times was due to hit 
 the rattler plumb; but, by a rare stroke of 
 fortune, the lucky shot was first. An instant 
 the reptile seemed pinned to the cliff, then, 
 writhing and rolling down the slanting rock, 
 toppled into the river. Now shall we for 
 give the Lambkin? 
 
 " The original serpentine dance," he 
 laughed. " A little practise makes it easy." 
 And he pocketed the weapon as coolly as if 
 there could have been no other result. 
 " There s your dawg, ma am." 
 
 The adjutant had come forward to see 
 whether or not they had been shooting at a 
 bear. Her face shone at sight of him, but 
 he gave her little notice. 
 
 " I think he should be yours," she said. 
 il Jimsey tells me that he saved your life, so 
 you must love him. Will you accept him 
 from me? " 
 
THE RIVER ROAD 
 
 The Lambkin flushed with happiness as 
 he bowed. 
 
 " You are more than kind. I am a little 
 attached to him." 
 
 And somehow this offering and accept 
 ance of a gift seemed to have opened the way 
 to closer conversation. She had read just 
 eighteen of his twenty books, so their field 
 of discussion was without limits, and thus 
 was their way a lane of delight. But all 
 lanes, however pleasant, must end, and the 
 ending of this came when the forks of the 
 trail, two miles after they had left the river, 
 divided them. In order to make her " cir 
 cuit " she must take the right-hand road, 
 while his business lay eastward. 
 
 " We ve had nearly seven miles o con 
 versation, ma am. But they re the shortest 
 miles I ever rode." 
 
 Her only answer was a smile, but deep 
 in her unwilling heart, as she left him, lay 
 the hope that she might, on another day, ride 
 the River Road again with this man. 
 
 77 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 AFTER the gathering and despatching of 
 the first train of beeves to market, for the 
 Circle-B cowboys who had not gone with 
 the shipment there were a few dull days so 
 eventless, in fact, that when Talbot, at twi 
 light, rode in from the Twin Bar and had 
 his coffee with the superior and mysterious 
 air of a man who carries news, there was 
 among his comrades much private jubilation. 
 They had begun to grow feverish, and al 
 though in the flare of the supper lamp their 
 faces loomed pious as a Sunday dawn, that 
 anticipation ran high was evident, below 
 the table, from the way they handled their 
 heels. 
 
 " Boys," said the foreman, at last, with a 
 grin at McCormick, " Captain Kitty and 
 Jimsey air comin to see us to-morrow, but 
 that ain t the best. That yearlin o Jimsey s 
 
 78 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 that they call Eureka the white fellow 
 with a yaller tail I ve bought him, and he s 
 comin too." 
 
 McCormick fidgeted, and began spinning 
 his pepper-box nervously. It was his third 
 year at the Circle-B. From the Pan Handle 
 he had wafted down one fall, when men were 
 scarce for the round-up, and Talbot, influ 
 enced by his tale of hardship, humorously 
 told, had promptly given him a place. He 
 was a guileless, colossal youth of singularly 
 diverting ways, but his superstition especially 
 had long been a standing joke. 
 
 " A white yearlin with a yaller tail," he 
 had often affirmed, " is the twin brother o 
 calamity. I never yet see one o that com 
 plexion without witnessin some sort o rippin 
 catastrophee the same day. Sometimes it s a 
 cyclone, sometimes a flood, and again maybe 
 it s just nothin more n a peaceable death in 
 the fambly; but, in one shape or nother, she 
 always comes." 
 
 And though it occurred to none of his 
 hearers to take this notion seriously, certain 
 it was that there lived in the giant s memory 
 a catalogue of instances which, if his word 
 
 79 
 

 BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 was to be used courteously, supported the 
 virtue of his claims. 
 
 " Why, I mind," he had said, in the days 
 when sniffing doubt in the air, " Old Pilli- 
 gan s pet, for instance. Pilligan s ranch sets 
 up nigh the head o the Washita, and he once 
 owned a ca af that was a clean white all but 
 the tail, and that was a punkin yaller. Salt 
 peter, Pilligan called him, and he was his 
 pride. Well, I ain t ever forgittin the day 
 Salty was a year old. Somebody had hinted 
 to Pilligan about them same marks on a 
 yearlin bein sure signs o death and the like, 
 but he had merely looked at em in a pityin 
 sort o way, and lowed he hadn t been born 
 the previous spring. Well, on the very night 
 the critter come of age, as it were, Old Pil 
 ligan was a-wishin he hadn t been born at 
 all. It rained a deluge the whole black night, 
 and the river sufferin kittens! The river 
 at daylight had riz to fifty times her natural 
 size, a-rippin and a-rollin with a roar like 
 a billion stampedes. The whole valley was 
 a-flood, and the water in the yard went into 
 our bootlegs. We built a raft to git out to 
 the corrals, and then had to go powerful 
 
 80 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 cautious and stay in the backwater, clear o 
 the current. I never see such a wet land 
 scape. Most everything in a quarter of a mile 
 o the river was drowned, and the corrals 
 great hawss-flies ! The corrals was all located 
 by the bank, the one we branded in bein in 
 two sections, the lower half reachin clear 
 down to the river, and it happened that the 
 evenin before we had shoved no less than a 
 hundred beeves into the lower section. Well! 
 Of that whole assortment o choice beef never 
 a hoof nor horn was in sight, and about the 
 cheerfulest spectacle we see was a bunch o 
 ca aves standin belly-deep in the upper sec 
 tion, a-shiverin and a-bawlin away in a most 
 distressin fashion. But what set Old Pilligan 
 wild was a sight back o the stables, on the 
 high ground, where, above all that flood and 
 havoc and ruin, there humped in the drizzlin 
 wet a half-drowned yearlin white all but 
 the yaller tail a-bleatin and a-bellerin 
 away like a whole orchestry. Pilligan saw 
 him, and just let out one screech that went 
 high over the roar of the flood, and proceeded 
 with shut jaws to the house. And I never see 
 a man lookin so wild-eyed as when he come 
 
 81 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 out and, restin his rifle across his thumb, 
 paid his final respects to Saltpeter. But 
 kittens! That ain t a circumstance to the 
 time 
 
 Here, as a further clincher, he would fall 
 into another corroborative reminiscence. 
 
 Now, on the present occasion, his singu 
 lar weakness came near to developing a quar 
 rel. He felt called upon to deny at too great 
 length the wisdom of the foreman. He de 
 clared repeatedly that if Eureka ever cast his 
 shadow on the ranch it would mean disaster 
 of some kind, and implored Talbot either to 
 change his mind or prepare for the worst. 
 Calamity and destruction were journeying 
 to the Circle-B as surely as the foreman 
 knew his brand. Then Talbot lost pa 
 tience. 
 
 " You drivelin cow," said he, quietly, but 
 with a vicious twist of his mustache. " You 
 are makin this matter tiresome. The year- 
 lin is comin here to-morrow." 
 
 It can not be said how the talk would have 
 ended had not Talbot, Junior three years 
 old now waddled into the room, to be seized 
 instantly by the elder Talbot and placed 
 
 82 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 astride his leg for the customary gallop. The 
 youngster was learning the saddle early. 
 
 McCormick, to everybody s amazement, 
 seemed on the point of tears. None of his 
 associates had ever credited him with par 
 ticularly tender feelings. He rose, mum 
 bling, and went out into the starlight of the 
 porch. It was plain that the remark of the 
 foreman had gone-deep with him. His bunk 
 ing quarters adjoined Butternut s, and the 
 Lambkin heard him mumbling on far into 
 the night. 
 
 Out by the stables, the next morning, the 
 giant was still grumbling away. Sitting 
 astride a singletree, he pained Scotty and the 
 Lambkin with a repetition of the Pilligan epi 
 sode, throwing in an occasional allusion to the 
 fact that Talbot had likened him to a " driv- 
 elin cow." He felt that nothing on this day 
 save a full-grown calamity could restore his 
 standing with the foreman, and as at intervals 
 he stared in a helpless way at the landscape, 
 the gentle Butternut grew almost to hoping 
 for the necessary disaster. 
 
 It was high noon when Eureka was seen 
 to come over the bellying line of plain which 
 
 83 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 marked the horizon in the direction of the 
 Twin Bar. It developed at once that Jimsey 
 had certain opinions which were not wholly 
 at variance with the giant s, for he had pro 
 vided the yearling with a double and mount 
 ed escort, neither of whom, it was plain, had 
 any respect for the business in hand. They 
 were addressing the profanity of two hemi 
 spheres at their charge, who, at the far end 
 of a long lariat, did his ablest to merit their 
 remarks. His behavior was marvelous chief 
 ly from his way of proceeding in a number 
 of directions at the same time. His head had 
 pointed north when he was first observed 
 when in a kind of rotary flourish he had 
 waltzed over the ridge the length of his rope 
 in advance of his captors but now, in the 
 same instant, it seemed, he had got round 
 under the neck of one of the broncos, and 
 while holding that animal at a standstill, dis 
 covered a powerful interest in the view which 
 this new position commanded. Next, by a 
 series of deft twists at the rope, he wove as 
 in a net a leg of the nearest cowboy, whose 
 dexterity barely saved him the pinch. By a 
 skilful and quick swing the rider succeeded 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 in unwinding himself, accompanying the 
 achievement with vigorous language, while 
 he regarded the captive with great disfavor. 
 
 It required no second glance to reveal 
 that Eureka was a rough customer, and that 
 whenever he chanced to steer in the proper 
 course it was merely a gross oversight on his 
 part. At rare periods he would show a dis 
 position to elope with the whole business, 
 leading his escort a merry gallop for perhaps 
 fifty yards, but far more frequently was he 
 of a mind to stop and argue the matter. Thus 
 the triangular procession approached the 
 ranch in a series of spasms. 
 
 Now the farther wall of the creek gorge, 
 toward which the visitors were advancing, 
 rose nearly sixty feet above the bed of the 
 stream, and the nearer bank, scarcely half 
 so high, left open to the view of the ranch 
 men of the Circle-B a smooth, steep surface, 
 down which, following a diagonal ledge, ran 
 a bridle-path. The main wagon-road, cut 
 through the bank on either side, was spacious 
 and safe to travel, but they knew, from Eu- 
 reka s present conduct, that he would prefer 
 the narrower and perilous route, and accord- 
 
 85 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ingly watched with keen interest his ap 
 proach. It was at this moment, as a fitting 
 figure to the entertainment, that McCormick, 
 on the far side of the gulch, stalked up from 
 the road into the open and began shaking his 
 fist at the approaching delegation. Talbot, 
 from the porch, chuckled at this sight. By a 
 motion toward the yard-gate the foreman in 
 dicated that the yearling was to be received in 
 the " best room," and as Butternut swung the 
 gate open, Eureka and his escort reached the 
 point where the wagon-road began its de 
 scent. Here, as had been expected, the year 
 ling came to a deliberate and firm halt, 
 looking with disdain down through the cut. 
 Surely, thought he, there was a more intricate 
 or difficult crossing. This was too infantile 
 a process. 
 
 While he debated movement, the sound 
 of hoofs approaching at a smart canter was 
 heard in the lane, and Captain Kitty and 
 Jimsey rode into view, having come round by 
 the River Road. They drew rein instantly 
 and became amused spectators of the per 
 formance on the other side of the gulch. The 
 Captain, as they beheld her, waving her hand 
 
 86 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 toward the ambitious and accomplished Eu 
 reka, seemed to be introducing that frisky 
 animal to the Circle-B. 
 
 Eureka gave a sudden vicious twist of his 
 horns and circled clear of the road. His 
 captor he of the lariat swearing mightily, 
 gave him such a wrench as to lift his temper 
 above the point of indulgence. He hurtled 
 sharp about, and there was havoc in his eye. 
 The cowboy shouted, but his leap was slow, 
 and the blunt horns of Eureka met the bronco 
 square in the flank. A shrill, frightened 
 whinny, a lunge, a stream of wonderful oaths 
 from the cowboy as the lariat spun from his 
 grasp, and the yearling was free to call the 
 whole prairie his own. Both horsemen 
 wheeling in pursuit, he made for the bridle 
 path, speeding head down from the summit, 
 and at this instant Talbot gave tongue as a 
 dying man. His comrades felt no call to won 
 der, no impulse to wheel at his groan, over 
 come as they were by the same appalling fear., 
 How on earth the youngster had wandered 
 into the gulch, scaled the crossing-log by the 
 ford and explored the opposite steep with no 
 guiding hold on his collar, was a matter for 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 subsequent amazement; but certain it was 
 that Talbot, Junior, had risen into view on 
 the ledge, directly in the path of Eure 
 ka! Had the giant s catastrophe come to 
 hand? 
 
 But now another cry from the foreman 
 drew attention to McCormick, who was 
 speeding with great leaps along the summit, 
 his eyes sweeping the canon wall. Within a 
 fraction of a minute he had gained a point 
 whence, by sliding thirty feet to the ledge, he 
 could intercept the yearling, and that, his 
 comrades saw at once, was his design. They 
 knew, too, that in addition to the danger of the 
 exploit, the giant held in his bosom a terror 
 unknown to them, born of an awe long in 
 spired by a certain combination of white and 
 yellow. To him it was likely Eureka came as 
 a four-legged demon of infinite fury, and thus 
 was heightened greatly in their minds the 
 quality of his courage. While the velocity 
 with which he would strike the ledge might 
 pitch him headlong into the gulch, the possi 
 bility, if it occurred to him, in no way affected 
 his conduct. With a shout to the youngster be 
 low, he slipped over the verge, his heels em- 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 bedded in the earth, and the next instant was 
 sailing down the slant. 
 
 And here occurred the miracle. Eureka, 
 of course, was coming at high speed in a 
 direction which would cause him to intersect 
 the giant s line of flight, but would it be be 
 fore or after McCormick reached the ledge? 
 The miracle was that they arrived at the same 
 moment, the giant s heels, dexterously poised, 
 landing plump into Eureka s round side with 
 the force of a catapult. The sound of the 
 blow must have traveled a quarter of a mile 
 down the canon, and its natural effect was 
 to send Eureka keeling over and over into the 
 gorge, while McCormick sprawled on the 
 ledge with Talbot, Junior, unscathed, not a 
 dozen yards away! 
 
 The crisis had taken scarcely half a min 
 ute, during which time the spectators had 
 stood bereft of all power of action. As they 
 now sought hurriedly to cross the canon, 
 Talbot especially proceeding with amazing 
 strides, McCormick sat up on the ledge and 
 peered with a confused and humorous grin 
 over the edge. The shock of the collision 
 must have been terrific, but apparently he felt 
 
 7 fin 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 no discomfort. For he met them, still grin 
 ning, at the far end of the crossing-log, 
 and with the younger Talbot safely in 
 charge. 
 
 And Eureka? He met them, too, but 
 meekly, switching his tail in mild surprise. 
 The onslaught he had suffered having come 
 as a broadside and sent him rolling, instead 
 of pitching him on his head, had had no 
 worse effect than to knock all contrariness out 
 of him. McCormick, however, stubbornly re 
 fused to make him his friend, although the 
 giant was for some reason in most jovial 
 humor. Butternut judged this reason was 
 that he had " proved his case," and could 
 look all men in the eye, though he magnani 
 mously evaded the foreman s glance. 
 
 But Talbot s behavior was exquisite. 
 After ascending the bank and greeting Jim- 
 sey and his companion cordially, he took the 
 Twin Bar foreman aside for a brief confer 
 ence, the outcome of which was that Eureka 
 was obliged to return to his former home that 
 very afternoon. Then, gracefully, and in a 
 way most profuse, he apologized to McCor 
 mick. 
 
 90 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 Captain Kitty dismounted, and, after 
 complimenting the giant in a manner that 
 reduced him at once to a state of sottish 
 beatification, she came toward Butternut with 
 a challenging air. The Lambkin for the time 
 seemed as unmoved as the hitch-rack against 
 which he was leaning like a resting Apollo. 
 Could he be posing? She was angry at once 
 with herself for the slanderous thought, for 
 whatever she must think of him, she must 
 acknowledge him perfectly natural in all he 
 said and did. 
 
 " You seem to have missed your oppor 
 tunity, sir," she smiled. 
 
 "For what, ma am?" 
 
 "To be a hero, sir!" 
 
 "Oh, that! Well, I don t make a good 
 central figure. McCormick looks better." 
 
 " He is taller," she said, with an approv 
 ing eye on the giant. 
 
 " I m considerably younger. Maybe I ll 
 grow," remarked the Lambkin, who could 
 afford to smile, for he had the perfect pro 
 portions which belonged not to the giant. 
 " I m afraid, though, I m not lookin for 
 chances in the hero line. I like to make a 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 sort of picture out o the world, and used 
 to put myself in the middle, till I found I 
 could get a better effect by droppin back to 
 a corner and just watchin ." 
 
 " The world is not a picture to me" she 
 said, a little acidly. " It is very real." 
 
 " And you are in the middle of it? " 
 queried Butternut. 
 
 " Yes. Where would your picture be if 
 I were in a corner? Would you have us all 
 go into the corners? " 
 
 " Yes if we would see. And," he added, 
 gently, his face a safe and open confession, 
 for her gaze was stranded on the horizon, 
 " perhaps other eyes will set us in the mid 
 dle." 
 
 " I don t see how accusing a woman of 
 vanity can excuse a man for being without 
 ambition," she flashed. 
 
 But here McCormick, from the stables, 
 called that all hands were needed in the 
 corral, and Butternut hurried off, while Jim- 
 sey, who was hanging near, gave a chuckle 
 which made Catherine turn around. 
 
 "O Jimsey! What have you done with 
 the horses?" 
 
 92 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 He gave a nod to where they were safely 
 tied. 
 
 " Lowed you d want to walk up to the 
 house., miss." 
 
 They were passing Butternut s cabin, 
 which came first in the lane, when Catherine 
 discovered that she had lost her whip. It 
 was too pretty and expensive a trifle to be 
 left behind. Jimsey, turning back, had an 
 idea. 
 
 " Wait in thar," he said, pointing to the 
 open cabin door, " and take that big chair 
 you see. Better rest yourself, or you ll be 
 feelin your nerves purty soon." 
 
 Catherine really had begun to " feel her 
 nerves " as a result of the yearling escapade, 
 and the chair invited her with big comfort 
 able arms. She put her faith in Jimsey, 
 while he marched off not more delighted 
 than amazed by his diplomacy. 
 
 " I reckon she ll see he s a gradgit now," 
 he said to himself. 
 
 Catherine sat down in the big chair with 
 a little quivering sigh of comfort, gave a 
 glance about, and rose instantly. She never 
 seemed to belong inside of four walls, and 
 
 93 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 now she stood sniffing about like a deer in a 
 forest. There were pictures on the walls 
 only etchings and photographs from paint 
 ings to be sure, but all from the work of 
 masters old and new, and on one side there 
 was a shelf which held a row of books. A 
 cover, whose soft colors would have pleased 
 a woman, lay over the couch, which in any 
 other cabin would have been a bunk. The 
 puncheon floor was spotless, the two win 
 dows gleamed, and through one of them she 
 could see the graceful tendrils of a wild-rose 
 vine. 
 
 " This," said Catherine, determined to 
 deceive herself and dispute the subtle, inde 
 finable proof of ownership which some indi 
 viduals impart to all their belongings, " is the 
 doctor s Scotty s cabin. I never dreamed 
 he was such an old maid." 
 
 She returned to the row of books, and 
 suddenly began to count. Nineteen! Her 
 glance fell on the table under the shelf where 
 a volume of Milton s shorter poems and son 
 nets lay. It looked very old and was much 
 scribbled. Twenty! She turned to fly, but 
 there was the cowboy in the door. He had 
 
 94 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 not been needed in the corral. His puzzled, 
 astonished face called back Catherine s hu 
 mor, and she sat down in the chair, laughing 
 merrily, at which he, never dispossessed of 
 his easy air, took a seat in the doorway, an 
 action which was a tacit admission that he 
 expected talk instead of flight, for he was 
 never slow to take what the gods offered. 
 
 "Jimsey is looking for my whip. He 
 asked me to wait here. Won t you introduce 
 me to your sweethearts? " 
 
 " They ll turn out old friends, I guess," 
 he said, invitingly. 
 
 She took up the small volume on the table, 
 and he rose and crossed to her. 
 
 " Yes, that s a favorite ; but I didn t make 
 those notes. It belonged to an uncle of mine 
 who was a professor at Princeton." 
 
 She was brazenly turning to the fly-leaf 
 to read the name when he said, gently: " It 
 isn t Jones," and he wondered, as she dropped 
 the book quickly, if any girl s blush could be 
 sweeter. 
 
 " Why are you a cowboy? " she asked, 
 with a nonchalance intended to conceal her 
 impudence, for she was fishing for history. 
 
 95 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Because I like it. It beats professor- 
 ing." 
 
 " You were going to be a professor? " 
 
 " I don t know. Anyway I was scared off 
 when I saw it was such hard work." 
 
 " But this is harder." 
 
 " This! This is not work at all! What! 
 To ride with the wind, to be up and out with 
 the sun, to know midnight as well as noon, to 
 feel Nature with you every minute, whether 
 she s patting you or slapping you it s the 
 finest play a fellow can have!" 
 
 She noticed that he sometimes, without 
 effort, added his " g s " and left his speech 
 without a flaw. 
 
 " When you could be a scholar and a gen 
 tleman?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon? " 
 
 " Of course you re a gentleman, but " 
 
 " All right, and as for the scholar, I 
 might have kept it up in spite of the hard 
 work and nothin to eat if I hadn t begun to 
 lose my sweethearts. Many books are like 
 some women. When you know too much 
 about em, they re not worth knowin ." 
 
 His tone was divided between banter and 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 bitterness, and, not knowing which to reply 
 to, she said nothing. 
 
 " My uncle could pick his bard like a 
 crow, feather by feather," he added, taking 
 up the book she had dropped. " He could 
 count the bones, could tell where the sinews 
 ran, the sockets fitted, and the flesh padded 
 in properly but he had lost his Milton." 
 
 " YouVe no new books. I will send you 
 some," said Catherine, who had been scan 
 ning the shelf that she might better ignore the 
 return of Jimsey, who had lounged up to 
 the door, diplomatically unremindful of the 
 whip. 
 
 " Please don t," he replied, with unex 
 pected emphasis. " I want none that doesn t 
 fit with these, and I ll not live long enough 
 to find out about new ones. It took a good 
 many years to get these sifted out." 
 
 " Balzac is ancient enough, isn t he? I ve 
 a beautiful set, and you ve very few nov 
 els." 
 
 " I m afraid I don t care about him if he s 
 the one I know. When my uncle died, a box 
 of his books came to my mother, and I had 
 my pick of em. There was a bundle tied in 
 
 97 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 heavy paper, and he had written on the out 
 side, Who would know human nature, look 
 within. Well, I ve got a proper curiosity 
 to know somethin of my own species, so I 
 dove in and found a lot o stuff that made me 
 wish I was an honest, respectable bear like 
 Bismarck, or a plain-faced, out-speakin goat 
 like General Custer. Don t you think it s 
 better to forget the way we ve come in the 
 gladness of goin on?" 
 
 "But Balzac goes with Shakespeare!" 
 she insisted. 
 
 " Maybe. I didn t stay with him long 
 enough to find out his company. But Shake 
 speare don t ever leave the God quite out. 
 You begin to be afraid you re wallowin , and 
 all at once comes a life-line that jerks you 
 up a million miles toward the heights. I 
 never found any life-lines in Balzac. I gave 
 the books to a poor woman who couldn t read, 
 and she cut out the pages and chinked the 
 cracks of her cabin with em. Made it quite 
 snug for the winter." 
 
 " Well, I haven t read him anyway," said 
 Catherine, at which naive confession Butter 
 nut gave a clear laugh and drew closer. 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 " I knew you hadn t I knew you 
 couldn t" he said, then at the soft, hurried 
 glance she gave him he was obliged to catch 
 his breath. 
 
 " I m such a stupid," she said, and waited 
 to be contradicted. 
 
 " So am I. Don t be worried about that. 
 We ve been told, you know, that it s a long 
 way from the head of the tallest man to the 
 stars, and it s such a big stretch from the 
 mind of the wisest man to the mind that made 
 him that it seems hardly worth while to make 
 a start; and I know some men who can t read 
 in a book that I ve got a good deal of 
 respect for." 
 
 Catherine s eye here fell on a little 
 leather-bound copy of Keats which drew her 
 admiration. 
 
 "What a sweet volume!" she exclaimed. 
 
 " That was my mother s," he said, softly. 
 
 Her hand dropped, and she could have 
 savagely punished her fingers for not know 
 ing sacred things. Did not its perfect clean 
 liness and gently worn edges proclaim, 
 "Who touches me loves me"? 
 
 " I should be glad to see it in your hands," 
 
 99 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 he said, picking up the little book and offer 
 ing it to her. 
 
 " Won t you tell me about her? " asked 
 Catherine, not nonchalantly to veil her im 
 pudence, but with earnest eyes looking into 
 his. 
 
 " She was from Pennsylvania," he said, in 
 a tone that seemed to caress the bare state 
 ment. " One of her brothers came West to 
 get rich, and she came along to look after 
 him. Then she found my father, and seemed 
 to think he needed more lookin after than 
 the brother. Anyway she married him, 
 though her brother loaded his gun and said 
 no man west of the Mississippi could take 
 her out of his house. But my father was a 
 native Texan and had been through a good 
 deal. His father had slept on the prairie 
 with Sam Houston when they were prospect- 
 in for Mexicans and Indians, and was a 
 member of the Harrisburg Congress durin 
 the Republic. Well, the brother drew his 
 gun, but he wasn t used to real killin , and 
 my father calculated his nerve wouldn t hold 
 out, so he walked right in, knocked the gun 
 from his hand, and carried my mother out 
 
 100 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 before his eyes. According to my mother, 
 my father was one of the bravest men that 
 ever lived, but I judge her opinion would 
 have to be well salted to get at the strict 
 facts " 
 
 Her restless eye had sighted a strip of 
 leather dangling from the corner of a picture, 
 and she drew nearer for a better view, but 
 he was instantly before her, yet without the 
 appearance of haste. An exaggerated deli 
 cacy made him feel that the undue promi 
 nence of the article might tell too potent a 
 tale, and his face held the shadow of a blush 
 as he said, with a gesture toward the paint 
 ing: 
 
 " A very fine effect at a distance. You 
 lose the perspective by coming close." 
 
 But neither his artfulness nor his sudden 
 color escaped her, and she felt a genuine 
 relish at this key-note to the highest of na 
 tures. Another man would have made much 
 of rather than conceal such an opening. 
 
 "A charming study indeed! I think " 
 
 " General Custer, ma am. He knows I ve 
 got company." 
 
 Her reply had changed to a scream as a 
 101 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 sudden noise at the window drew attention 
 to the whiskered visage of the general who, 
 having elevated his forefeet to the ledge, was 
 blinking in at her with great vigor. 
 
 Another interruption at this moment was 
 the abrupt arrival of Mrs. Talbot, who, after 
 greeting the visitors amiably, said she hoped 
 Catherine had recovered her nerves. The 
 good lady then divided her time between 
 complimenting the young woman from Twin 
 Bar and pouring a vicious stream of epithets 
 and abuse on the head of " that terrible 
 Eureky." 
 
 " I jest know I d a died if I d seen it 
 Who you goin to try him on next, Miss 
 Kitty? " 
 
 " Why, I don t know," said Catherine, 
 mischievously. " We ll have to consult Mr. 
 Jones." 
 
 " Aw, any man with lots o children ll buy 
 him," said the Lambkin, soberly. " He d 
 make an elegant merry-go-round." 
 
 This gentle sally threw Mrs. Talbot at 
 once into a fit of giggles. She had often 
 vowed that Butternut would be the death of 
 her. Catherine, too, was laughing heartily 
 
 1 02 
 
CAPTAIN KITTY MAKES A CALL 
 
 as they left the cabin, and when, at a point 
 half-way to the house, she was suddenly con 
 fronted by a full-grown bear, vigorously 
 pursued by Scotty with a broom, and found 
 her heart in her throat for the third time 
 within an hour, she began to feel that this was 
 the liveliest if not the most delightful ranch 
 of her acquaintance. 
 
 103 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 KING THE PLAINS 
 
 SPARTACUS, King of the Plains, was visit 
 ing at the Twin Bar. For some days he had 
 been hanging around Captain Kitty s corrals, 
 running things in his usual way, which is to 
 say with a high hand. Even his Sunday be 
 havior was never mild, but the very splendor 
 of his appearance protected him, his magnifi 
 cent figure entailing an admiration which 
 disarmed all hostility. In size and strength, 
 as well as the majesty of his horns, his equal 
 was not to be fourid on the Pecos range, and 
 he seemed to understand that these attractions 
 shielded him from the ill-usage to which any 
 common bull of such a nature would have 
 been subjected. Thus privileged, he flour 
 ished as a despot, General Custer, so far as 
 anybody knew, being the only creature that 
 had ever refused to be awed by his presence. 
 
 Wherever it pleased him Spartacus 
 104 
 
KING O THE PLAINS 
 
 roamed at will, no kind of fencing being an 
 obstacle. If it chanced to be of rails, as was 
 sometimes the case in the timbered country, 
 he would simply brush it aside with his beau 
 tiful and capable horns. But his method of 
 surmounting barbed wire was most charm 
 ing. He would deliberately plant his fore 
 head against a supporter, push two or three 
 spans to the ground, then pick his way care 
 fully over the barbs. The first time Jimsey 
 observed this performance he laughed a bois 
 terous laugh ; the second time he took a large 
 chew of tobacco and swore. 
 
 Captain Kitty was out by the well-curb, 
 with Little Jimsey, when she saw an object 
 which at first glance looked something like 
 the side of a house stepping toward her across 
 the open. Grabbing Little Jimsey in her 
 arms, she fled to the piazza, where, shrinking 
 in a heap, she could only gasp : 
 
 " Mercy, what a beast! " 
 
 Then Jimsey did a brutal thing. He 
 came and sat on the steps by her, and laughed 
 long and heartlessly. 
 
 " Don t be skeer d, Miss Kitty," he finally 
 assured her. " It s only one o them freaks 
 8 105 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 from the Circle-B. They ve got a regular 
 menagerie over there." 
 
 " Circle-B? Isn t that the ranch we vis 
 ited where Butternut lives? " 
 
 She blushed in a way that delighted Jim- 
 sey, for she always stumbled over the name. 
 
 " Yes m." 
 
 "Oh, then that s Spartacus!" There was 
 much relief in her voice. 
 
 The acute Jimsey noticed that to know 
 the animal as an acquaintance of Butternut s 
 seemed to make her fear him less, and thought 
 to himself that things were coming along. 
 He also decided to take advantage of the 
 moment. 
 
 " Yes m, that s Spartacus. The king o 
 these diggin s, miss. You wouldn t think 
 an animal o that size could be licked by a 
 measly goat, would you? " 
 
 "A goat? Ridiculous!" 
 
 " Of course, miss. That s what I tell em. 
 They ve got out a wild tale about that ornery 
 old goat, General Custer, meetin Spartacus 
 on the prairie and buttin him around like a 
 basket, and finally makin him run like a 
 coyote. But they can tell that to the Indians. 
 
 1 06 
 
KING O THE PLAINS 
 
 Why, Miss Kitty, it d take the slam-bangin - 
 est fighter on four legs to lick him. He s the 
 boss o the range, and though he s meaner 
 than sin, I love him like a brother. Ever I 
 tell you what he did for Butternut and me? " 
 
 Captain Kitty shook her head and looked 
 interested. 
 
 " It was last spring, durin the freshets. 
 You see, it don t rain often here, but some 
 times it rains enough in one day to last a 
 couple o years if you could only sprinkle it 
 out, and this was one o them times. Abe 
 Toliver, who owned a place on Skull Creek, 
 about fifty miles west o here, was sellin out, 
 and hearin he had some bargains in * short 
 horns, I lowed I d amble over there and 
 strike a trade. Well, just as I was leaving 
 along come Butternut Jones, sent by his fore 
 man on the same errand, and so we went to 
 gether as far as Alkali Creek, where the high 
 water sent us home. But, you see, the creek 
 wasn t high when we struck it in fact, it 
 was drier n a horn, and right there s where 
 we got in a mess. It was nigh dark when 
 we ungirthed, and leavin our ponies on the 
 main bank and takin our saddles and blan- 
 
 107 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 kets, we camped for the night in a shanty 
 that stood on a knob in the middle of the 
 creek bed so much lower than the main 
 banks as to be well sheltered from the winds, 
 yet so high as to seem safe enough from a 
 chaince rise. 
 
 " We slept heavy, and what awoke me 
 was a dream of stampedin cattle. They 
 seemed a long way off, but there was a mil 
 lion of em, and all of em bellerin and the 
 earth shakin as they come. I set up with a 
 jerk, listened a minute, and guessed what had 
 happened. Butternut was still asleep, so I 
 hit him a lively clip he couldn t have heard 
 me holler which brought him to, and to 
 gether we went to the door of the shanty. 
 
 " It was daylight, there was little wind, 
 and the sun was comin up serene and clear, 
 as if it had never rained a lick. And it really 
 hadn t been such a soaker right around us. 
 But in the up-country it must have rained 
 furies, for it had sent a flood down on us the 
 like o which I ve never seen. You ought 
 to ve seen that creek it was drowned. There 
 wasn t any creek left. What we saw in place 
 of it was a roarin river with two branches, 
 
 1 08 
 
KING O THE PLAINS 
 
 divergin above and joinin below our cabin, 
 leavin a torrent about fifteen yards wide and 
 nigh as deep between us and the ponies. The 
 water had jumped up more n twenty feet in 
 the night and made our knob an island, and 
 she was still climbin at an amazin rate. A 
 little more rise and we would be yanked into 
 the current. The flood was already in a 
 foot of the door, and a few inches more and 
 our shanty would be caught in the torrent 
 and join the procession of brush and drift 
 wood that tore past us from the uplands. 
 
 " But the worst noise wasn t nigh us. 
 Down the canon we could hear a tremen 
 dous roarin where the ravine, turnin sharp, 
 caused the torrent to sorter rise on its hind- 
 legs and batter itself into a lather before 
 passin round the bend. And this was what 
 made our position particular embarrassing 
 for to be caught up by the tide and hustled 
 like a chunk o timber through the elbow 
 was a dubious entertainment. 
 
 " And there was no way out of it that we 
 could see. Swimmin across the fifteen yards 
 against such a current was plum out o the 
 question, though there might have been a 
 
 109 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 chaince of it but for the shape o the main 
 bank. She sloped only at a point just op 
 posite us, where the wagon-road had been 
 chiseled through to a slant. From the ford 
 to the bend below she was steep and smooth 
 like a cliff, and there was no catchin hold, 
 so we would have had to swim in a straight 
 line, and that wasn t to be thought of. The 
 torrent would sweep us down and send us 
 churnin through the elbow before we could 
 take three strokes. 
 
 " Well, there wasn t anything to do but 
 wait, and let me tell you that waitin to be 
 drowned on an empty stomach ain t any pic 
 nic pastime. There was a slim chaince that 
 the flood might not rise high enough to catch 
 us, and that was the only hope we had. But 
 she kept comin up, inch by inch, until there 
 was scarcely standin room outside the cabin. 
 Opposite us, just over the top of the bank, 
 we could see the wet heads of our ponies, 
 and that s the first time I ever wished I was 
 a hawss. 
 
 " I was powerful excited, but Butternut 
 was cool as a sandwich, as he always is. He s 
 the hardest man to flurry I ever see. Jim- 
 no 
 
KING O THE PLAINS 
 
 sey, says he, * if the ponies were a little closer 
 we could make it, but I didn t catch his idee 
 till a minute afterward he dived into the 
 shanty and come out with a long snake lariat 
 that he d got from his saddle. Then, as he 
 began to loop and coil for a throw, I looked 
 again at the bank and saw another head 
 big as a barrel, with two tremendous horns 
 on the horizon, a little to the south of our 
 ponies, and the next minute old Spartacus 
 ambled casually up to where the road sloped 
 down through the cut. He was out early to 
 inspect the damage by the rain, I guess. Any 
 other time he d a tried to start a row with 
 the ponies, but I reckon the noise o the river 
 attracted him; anyhow he come slow and 
 solemn as a church down the slant, and stood 
 close by the howlin water. The flood was 
 now in three inches of our boots. 
 
 " Well, Spartacus hadn t fairly begun to 
 take in the scene before Butternut leaped past 
 the end o the cabin to get swingin room. I 
 hardly believed he could make it at that dis 
 tance, but, as I said, there was little wind. 
 Spartacus hadn t moved after comin to a 
 halt, and was lookin straight at us, when 
 
 in 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Butternut circled the noose wide and clean, 
 and sent it swishing out across the water, till, 
 risin and fallin in a fine curve, it settled 
 hoop-like over the bull s horns and was 
 drawn tight and safe. Nothin was ever 
 neater. 
 
 " Well, he started inland at once, and we 
 both grabbed the lariat just as he wheeled 
 and got his big back under the rope. In 
 another minute we was pulled down, floun- 
 derin in the water and hangin on as if we 
 had hold of a cable to a tug-boat. Lucky 
 the lariat was new and strong, or it would 
 have been broken by his first ugly rush. 
 But he had to slacken speed. Even his 
 strength couldn t pull against such a current 
 faster than a walk, and I don t believe we 
 could have kept our hold if he hadn t slowed 
 up. Of course he was b ilin mad, but he 
 had to move as slow as if hitched to a plow. 
 
 " The water tore over and past us with 
 such fury that we seemed to be movin at 
 fearful speed. Sometimes we was pulled up 
 as if on a crest, long enough to get breath, 
 then the action o the current sent us wal- 
 lowin below the surface till we thought we 
 
 112 
 
KING O THE PLAINS 
 
 must drown, then up again we were hauled. 
 Once a mass of brush struck us with nigh 
 fatal effect. It didn t check the bull s stride, 
 but it nearly broke my grip for a second. 
 Suddenly it went down under us, liftin us 
 half out o the water, then as it was sucked 
 from beneath our legs we were plunged un 
 der again. Anything like a log or slab would 
 have done for us, but the bigger driftwood 
 was tearin down the main stream. 
 
 " I was just thinkin my strength couldn t 
 last, and that I d have to turn loose, when we 
 struck bottom, and went completely out o the 
 water, with our shoulders on the slope. And 
 let me tell you, Miss Kitty, we didn t have 
 a minute to spare. By the time we walked 
 up the slant and come round to the edge o 
 the high bank, the flood had swallowed our 
 island, and we saw the shanty picked up like 
 a chip and churned to splinters in the elbow. 
 We lost a couple of powerful good saddles, 
 but it didn t worry us." 
 
 The foreman paused, looked with furtive 
 eye at Captain Kitty, saw that she was lis 
 tening intently, and resumed: 
 
 " But that Butternut Jones! Miss Kitty, 
 "3 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 you certainly spoke the truth when you said 
 he was the bravest fellow you ever saw. Do 
 you know what he said to me when he had 
 that bull by the horns? He tried to make 
 me take the lariat alone, sayin , Jimsey, 
 you re a married man, and she may not hold 
 us both; you can throw one of the pony ropes 
 to me. And he said it just as cool and calm 
 as if he was offerin me a cigarette. But I 
 know d the man that stayed would be drowned 
 before another rope could git to him, though 
 it was only when Spartacus was well started 
 and he saw that I just wouldn t go alone that 
 he give in. He s the bravest man that ever 
 buckled a girth, Miss Kitty." 
 
 Like a strategic general the astute Jimsey 
 had withheld his climax till the last, and 
 while he was not sure that it had had a 
 broadside effect, he was confident it had 
 sunk in. 
 
 Captain Kitty had listened breathlessly to 
 this wonderful tale, which, while most con 
 vincingly told, was something she was in 
 clined to discredit. But whether true or 
 not, it had been highly entertaining. She 
 had really been thrilled somewhere in the 
 
 114 
 
KING O THE PLAINS 
 
 narrative, but at what particular point can 
 not be told. 
 
 It is known, however, that when she re 
 tired to slumber that evening it was to see in 
 a wild dream a far-off mountain turn to a 
 great bull, and a man on a calico pony ride 
 up its side, and on up one of the mighty 
 horns, at the tip of which he vanished. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 IT seemed but a day or two since Bis- 
 marck was a cub, a frisky, innocent young 
 thing, brought to the Circle-B in a blanket 
 by the gentle Butternut. How on earth the 
 animal got that name can no more be told than 
 where the Lambkin got him, and on that point 
 Butternut himself is the most bewildered. 
 
 Somewhere in Clover Gulch, he said, he 
 was riding leisurely when there came the 
 noise of a sudden scuffling above him, and 
 from out of the brush and rocks, square on 
 to his saddle-pack, bounced a fuzzy round 
 object, which he held toward the moon and 
 discovered to be a very young bear. The 
 onslaught, it was evident, was wholly invol 
 untary and without malice, for it was fol 
 lowed by no offering of violence, the one de 
 sire of the animal being at the moment to 
 
 116 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 simply obtain grip enough with his small 
 claws to hold on while the bronco jolted him 
 ranchward. 
 
 This had happened more than a year 
 ago, and meanwhile Bismarck had grown 
 amazingly. His air of authority, too, had in 
 creased with his bulk until it was plain that, 
 next to General Custer, he regarded himself 
 as owner of the ranch and everything on it, 
 though this conceit was forgiven as readily 
 as were his comical manners. It was amus 
 ing to watch him stalk importantly about the 
 yards, sometimes alone with his dignity, some 
 times jawing with the general, and laughable 
 to see his clumsy body double into a circle 
 when he endeavored to sit like a gentleman. 
 Being as peaceable as any kitten, he was at 
 liberty to go wherever his fancy might lead, 
 though it was firmly believed that he accepted 
 the privilege as a matter of course. Anyhow, 
 he became a great gadabout, spending most 
 of his time gossiping with the inhabitants of 
 the barn-yard and corrals. Having known 
 no home save these places, every beast and 
 fowl was his friend, and even the blackbirds 
 learned to alight and scamper on his back 
 
 117 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 with the same good-fellowship they showed 
 old Samson, the level-horned bull. 
 
 But Butternut was most privileged, and 
 therefore happiest of them all, which was his 
 right. For was he not Bismarck s first and 
 only master? When the cub had fallen out 
 of the clouds into a strange country, had he 
 not been the first to offer him a home? These 
 things entitled him to a certain royal inti 
 macy with the animal, which he was careful 
 to show on all occasions. With a familiarity 
 calculated to consume his comrades with 
 envy, he would haul the bear about by the 
 ears, or gleefully roll with him among the 
 corn-shucks. 
 
 In a general rough-and-tumble they were 
 about evenly matched. There was a time, in 
 the days of Bismarck s early growth, when 
 he appeared rather helpless in these combats, 
 but now it was different. Butternut found 
 one day that it kept him quite busy to hold 
 his own in a tussle, and accustomed so long 
 to ready victory, took a keen pleasure in the 
 change. His first downfall so surprised him 
 that he ungenerously started to box his 
 adversary s ears, but after a second and 
 
 118 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 third defeat he straightway apologized. The 
 Lambkin never attached a liberal value to 
 an opponent until his worth was fully proved, 
 when he stood at once ready to take off his 
 hat and honor him accordingly. 
 
 Now Bismarck was so fond of the Lamb 
 kin that he wanted to follow him everywhere, 
 and one afternoon, when Butternut was pre 
 paring to ride over to the post-office, he came 
 down by the gate and spoke in growls of the 
 pleasure it would give him to make the jour 
 ney too. But this was ridiculous, as the dis 
 tance, counting both ways, was a dozen miles, 
 and the Lambkin expected to cover it in a 
 hurry. Bismarck, however, was determined, 
 and rubbed himself insistently against the legs 
 of both the Lambkin and his pony, which 
 caused Terrapin, who was docile only when 
 not surprised, to suddenly and vigorously lift 
 his rear hoofs. Butternut was standing di 
 rectly behind him, but fortunately so close 
 that the animal s heels were against his breast 
 before they shot outward, otherwise the re 
 sult might have been serious. As it hap 
 pened, he was simply raised clear of the 
 earth, and, after traveling backward five 
 
 119 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 paces, landed on a barrel, which, rolling, 
 broke the force of his fall. The incident, 
 however, was quite enough to arouse the 
 wrath of the mildest man, and it left the 
 Lambkin furious. Terrapin he could not 
 blame, so directed all his anger toward the 
 bear. 
 
 "You howlin fool! For two shucks I d 
 break you in two! " 
 
 Bismarck, drooping his head, whined 
 many regrets, but the Lambkin, with no gen 
 tle hands, seized him and hauled him toward 
 the creek, whose high and steep bank stood 
 back of the cow-pens. The animal howled 
 bitterly, and sought with craft to get a hold 
 on his master s clothing, but Butternut dex 
 terously kept the length of his arm between 
 them. A series of vicious tugs brought them 
 to the verge of the bank, and the next moment 
 Bismarck, by a deft movement of the Lamb 
 kin s foot, was sent whirling over and over 
 down the incline. Growling and howling, 
 and clawing up the dust, he tumbled and 
 slid until finally, clearing the slant for sev 
 eral feet, he swooped into the pool below. 
 There, as he splashed about, his growl be- 
 
 120 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 came more like a roar, which caused the 
 Lambkin to laugh in wicked glee, even as he 
 rubbed his chest. 
 
 It would take some minutes for Bismarck 
 to reach the ford crossing and return to high 
 ground, and it was not at all likely that he 
 was now in the mood for travel. Meanwhile 
 Butternut, whose journey lay in another di 
 rection, could be well on his way, and accord 
 ingly, with a satisfied smirk over his exploit, 
 the Lambkin strode to his bronco, and swing 
 ing airily into the stirrups, rode at a lively 
 pace down the wagon-lane. And as he rode, 
 the way he had routed Bismarck struck him 
 as highly humorous. 
 
 " Now, didn t he do it handsomely!" he 
 chuckled. " And wasn t it a circus to see 
 him slide!" Then he added, doubtingly: 
 " He ll want to lick me, tho , when I get 
 back." 
 
 Which wasn t a bad surmise. For Bis 
 marck, while his disposition had been friend 
 ly from birth, was keenly sensitive when it 
 came to gross injury, and such direct and 
 violent abuse he would not be likely to over 
 look. The chances were excellent that he 
 9 121 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 would take a few rounds out of the Lambkin 
 on the latter s return. 
 
 Butternut observed that the afternoon was 
 gliding into evening, which pleased him, for 
 night traveling was always a joy to his poetic 
 soul. He loved to ride at twilight through 
 the treeless, tranquil hills, fencing pastures 
 among the stars, or garnering messages of 
 mystery from the morose whisperings of the 
 night. As a result of the mood which now 
 enveloped him his hurry was forgotten, and 
 soon he was riding at a walk by the pastures 
 and fields. 
 
 And when he met Jimsey, a little later, at 
 Panther Ford, he was quite disposed to pass 
 a quarter of an hour in valueless converse. 
 The Twin Bar lay some miles west of the 
 Circle-B, and Jimsey was homeward bound. 
 His greeting was most hilarious, and the 
 Lambkin was glad to his heels. For some 
 reason of late he was always happy to see 
 Jimsey. They talked at some length. They 
 inquired the health of everybody in their re 
 spective localities, alluded with fine irony to 
 the judgment displayed by a mutual friend in 
 a recent " hawss " trade, mentioned the com- 
 
 122 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 ing dance on Green Fork, and, in short, found 
 so many topics to discuss that it was heavy 
 dusk ere they separated. 
 
 The Lambkin, as they rode apart, called 
 back, as an after-thought: " By the way, Jim- 
 sey, that pesky bear o mine may be followin 
 me, and in case you meet him, just rope him 
 and lead him home as a favor." 
 
 Jimsey, laughing noisily, assented, and 
 Butternut rode onward, musing lightly on 
 the probability of his attending the Green 
 Fork dance. 
 
 His way, from Panther Ford, was a grav 
 elly road, winding with the stream down the 
 gorge, along which stood the only timber 
 within many miles. The moon, which had 
 been in view long before dusk, slanting 
 through the cottonwoods, cast luminous 
 " crazy " patches athwart the gulch. 
 
 The Lambkin could never say where he 
 first became aware that Bismarck was follow 
 ing him, but believed it to be at a point 
 about a mile from the ford. At first he strove 
 not to credit his sight, thinking, in view of 
 Jimsey s compact, that the moonlight was de 
 ceiving him. Then he sought to build the 
 
 123 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 object into some other animal, but it was too 
 round and thick for dog or wolf. Jimsey, 
 jthen, had let him slip by. 
 
 For a moment the Lambkin s chagrin was 
 about to swell into an outburst, but softened 
 instead into supreme disgust. As the bear 
 neared him he pulled rein, and turning, with 
 his thigh across the saddle, addressed him 
 reproachfully and with weariness: 
 
 " Biz, I m ashamed o you. Do you know 
 you re wearin my patience plum to fraz 
 zles?" 
 
 Bismarck had halted for an instant, then 
 continued his approach, and now stood mo 
 tionless, his eyes glittering warily. The 
 Lambkin began to lecture him: 
 
 " You re an idiot, that s what you are, sir 
 the biggest idiot in this township. You re 
 the foolishest critter that ever wore hair." 
 
 Bismarck whined a protest. 
 
 The Lambkin, naturally, each moment 
 that he scolded felt himself the more deeply 
 injured, and finally could not resist the im 
 pulse to dismount and approach his auditor 
 threateningly. Bismarck at once rose on his 
 haunches and began moving his forepaws up 
 
 124 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 and down in the manner of a boxer on the 
 defensive. 
 
 The Lambkin advanced upon him and 
 gave him a brisk rap on the ear. 
 
 " Go home, you mule-headed baboon! 
 D you hear? Git! " 
 
 But Bismarck showed no inclination to 
 retreat. On the contrary, he seemed the more 
 determined to hold his ground. He whined 
 again, and then suddenly roared mightily, 
 assuming a most ferocious aspect. But the 
 Lambkin was used to that. It was a favorite 
 trick of the bear s, when losing the advantage 
 in a scuffle, to try to frighten his adversary 
 with the noise of his voice and the sudden 
 taking on of a savage look. But this had 
 grown so old to Butternut that it made him 
 laugh to have it tried on him now. By way 
 of humoring Biz, however, in order the 
 greater to ruffle him finally, the Lambkin 
 dodged and ducked away as though in terror. 
 The next moment he had stridden up to Bis 
 marck and tormentingly struck the big black 
 nose with his knuckles. The animal uttered 
 another roar, which filled Butternut with de 
 light, and lunged his heavy body at the cow- 
 
 125 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 boy, who sprang out of his way and, twisting 
 his foot under the legs of the bear, flung him 
 upon his side. The Lambkin s favorite trick 
 was quite as old as Bismarck s, but in this case 
 a very pretty success. However, Bismarck, 
 after rolling ingloriously, was at once on his 
 feet, and came at him so fiercely that Butter 
 nut for a moment feared he was in earnest, 
 but immediately the Lambkin was laughing 
 and dancing nimbly about, alert for the open 
 ing of which he had availed himself before. 
 It came presently, and again making a quick 
 and deft thrust with his foot, he twirled Bis 
 marck upon his back. 
 
 " You won t go, hey? You web-footed, 
 thumb-bitin woodchuck! Then I ll have to 
 take you." 
 
 The Lambkin usually enjoyed nothing so 
 much as a frolic with Biz, but just now his 
 hurry came on him again, and, thoroughly 
 provoked, he resolved to escort the animal 
 home and lock him in the stable. But before 
 doing this he would have one more " go " 
 with him, and this time (with a grim desire 
 to show the bear that he was master at any 
 style of encounter) they would wrestle it out 
 
 126 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 at close quarters. However, in this bout he 
 must secure " the under-holt." It would 
 never do for Bismarck to get him round 
 the waist. Accordingly, as the animal now 
 rushed, he squared off with alert eye, deter 
 mined to seize the right moment for clos 
 ing in. 
 
 But, balancing forward, he stopped 
 abruptly, his face pallid as the moonlight. 
 Bismarck was coming for him; but, ignoring 
 an instant the ways of the battle, his gaze 
 went beyond, where up the gorge came Jim- 
 sey in brisk pursuit of a massive black object 
 whose lumbering, awkward gait awoke mem 
 ories in the Lambkin s mind. 
 
 With a wild, terrified yell he sprang aside, 
 escaping by an inch the lunge of his antag 
 onist, who, apparently alarmed by the ap 
 proaching hoofs, did not wheel, but scurried 
 away down the gulch. A moment afterward 
 the animal in advance of Jimsey was rubbing 
 his thick body cat-like against the Lambkin s 
 legs, and Jimsey, halted near, was saying, 
 apologetically: 
 
 " Couldn t rope him no more n I could 
 rope a coyote. Ever time I d throw he d 
 
 127 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 squat flatter n a skillet. Met him less n half 
 a mile t other side the ford, V been tryin to 
 head him off What s ailin you, Butter 
 nut? " 
 
 The Lambkin seemed bereft of speech. 
 He had been seized by a faintness in every 
 limb, and would have sunk at once to the 
 ground had not Bismarck propped his broad 
 back against him. 
 
 " Jimsey," he mumbled, finally, " is your 
 gun handy? " 
 
 " You bet she air." The foreman s six- 
 shooter glistened in the moonlight. 
 
 " Well, if you don t mind, Jimsey, I wish 
 you d turn her on me and let her go. It ll 
 be a clean waste o lead, I know, but I really 
 ought not to live." There was a prayer in 
 the Lambkin s voice. 
 
 " What ye done, Butternut? " 
 
 "Done! Jimsey, Jimsey, what haven t I 
 done? Before you came in sight I was over 
 taken by a bear! " 
 
 " Lambkin, Lambkin! That wasn t a Var 
 you was frolickin with? " 
 
 " Yes, Jimsey, a bear of full size. I I 
 thought it was Biz! " 
 
 128 
 
TREACHEROUS MOONLIGHT 
 
 " Oh, you Lambkin! " 
 
 " And I boxed his ears with my hands and 
 gave him a couple o clips on the nose! " 
 
 " You buzzard!" 
 
 " I was just goin to wrestle him, Jimsey, 
 when you interrupted the game. I was just 
 lookin for the under-holt! And when he got 
 savage, I thought he was just bluffin , and 
 Jimsey, Jimsey!" The Lambkin fanned the 
 air with his hands. " Either shoot quick or 
 turn me into a corn-field and let me lose my 
 self!" 
 
 He was really in a bad state, the enormity 
 of the blunder affecting him far more deeply 
 than the conscious facing of any danger could 
 have done. His legs wobbled from partial 
 paralysis, and his teeth clicked vibrantly in 
 the night. Finally he succeeded in shambling 
 over to his pony, waiting patiently by the 
 roadside, and clambered laboredly into the 
 saddle. 
 
 Jimsey, whose laughter was like nothing 
 if not like the screeches of a panther, headed 
 the procession homeward, Bismarck trailing 
 behind the Lambkin, whose journey for the 
 mail was obliged to await another day. 
 
 129 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 EARLY September. 
 
 The first dance of the season was to occur 
 at Colonel Jake Baldwin s ranch, near the 
 head of the stream known as Green Fork, 
 and in the moonlit dusk of the important 
 evening wagon-loads of families and bunches 
 of horsemen were moving from every quar 
 ter over the plain toward a common center, 
 as to a magnet. As these converging caval 
 cades approached the blinking windows of 
 the ranch-house, the night was filled with the 
 noise of mirth. The occupants of the vehicles 
 conversed in glee on every conceivable topic, 
 or screamed in feigned terror as they passed 
 a hazardous unevenness in the trail, while the 
 jocund cowboys rode riotously, with many a 
 gibe and jest between the merry gleams of 
 cigarettes. 
 
 Through the purple evening, from the 
 trees which lined the stream, came the clan- 
 
 130 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 gorous song of the insects, and perfumed 
 peace filled the land. 
 
 Colonel Baldwin had himself gone care 
 fully about his house and yards, casting a 
 sagacious eye into every corner to see that no 
 preparations were lacking for the comfort 
 and convenience of his prospective guests. 
 For the jaded ponies soon to assemble he had 
 seen that there was plenty of his choicest hay 
 accessible, and that an extra pole and post 
 had been added to the long hitching-rack in 
 front of the house. 
 
 The wide, long dining-room, built with 
 a view to just such events, had been cleared 
 of its usual furniture, and benches, contrived 
 by the laying of planks on kegs and boxes, 
 placed along the walls. At one end of the 
 room were two barrels, and on these had been 
 placed a couple of chairs for the orchestra. 
 Fiddling Larry of the " Loop-and-L " was to 
 officiate, assisted by Mr. Pete Sanchez, the 
 barber of Fairfield, who " sawed a little now 
 and then." This latter gentleman, by the 
 way, had already arrived with his instrument, 
 and, though at the time there was not a guest 
 in sight, and the dancing could not begin for 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 a good hour, had carefully seated himself on 
 his barrel and was now steadily confronting 
 the vacant room. 
 
 The expectant Colonel, on his piazza, 
 tranquilly stroked his goatee and smiled at 
 the encroaching sounds of vitality. 
 
 In one of the groups of cavaliers rode the 
 garrulous Jimsey, and he was playing But 
 ternut false. With many a grin and eloquent 
 gesture of the hand, he was telling of a late 
 episode in which a friend of his, in the moon 
 light, had embraced a wild bear, thinking he 
 was tame. His remarks from time to time, 
 were greeted with howls. 
 
 " But you ll have to defend me, boys, if 
 he ever knows I told! You all kin swear that 
 I never mentioned any names! " 
 
 His companions screeched tumultuously. 
 
 " You bet," sawed a heavy voice, " and 
 tame b ars air so powerful thick roun hyer 
 thet I reckon we air likely to git him con 
 fused haw! haw! haw!" 
 
 Another cluster of blithe riders, descend 
 ing the last hill of their journey, burst hilari 
 ously into song: 
 
 " If you can t be a bell-cow, fall in behind." 
 
 132 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 In delivering this chorus after the second 
 stanza they were interrupted by a new sound. 
 
 Fiddling Larry came alone over the plain, 
 his instrument held caressingly to his bosom, 
 his cigarette twinkling like a lightning-bug. 
 As he rode over a hill at a point which 
 brought the ranch-house windows into view, 
 he was suddenly moved to music, and, draw 
 ing his riddle from its flannel bag, sent the 
 strains of " Suwanee River " winding over the 
 valley. And Larry was nothing if not a fid 
 dler. He knew little of " minors " or " flats," 
 but the way he could pluck the soul from his 
 instrument was a revelation. From softest 
 cadence to the deepest mellow notes he could 
 trill with a master s skill, and as he now gave 
 this sentimental air to the breezeless night, all 
 human voices were stilled. It was this sud 
 den stream of melody that cleft the cowboys 
 chorus in half, and it also caused Jimsey, fur 
 ther detailing his " story," to pause in the act 
 of gesturing, his hand suspended in the air. 
 In but one quarter, however, did it come near 
 to having a calamitous effect. Winding 
 across the valley, and stealing in at the win 
 dows of the Colonel s dining-room, it caught 
 
 133 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 the ear of the barber of Fairfield, and aroused 
 him so abruptly from his state of abstraction 
 that he narrowly escaped toppling from his 
 barrel and bringing disaster to his instrument. 
 He had not heard Fiddling Larry, the musi 
 cian. He had heard the leader of the orches 
 tra, and like a trained soldier had given 
 attention. 
 
 Of course all the revelers did not reach 
 the Colonel s at the same time, nor yet in the 
 same hour. From one to forty miles they had 
 come, and, while most of them had timed 
 their start according to distance, it was near 
 ten o clock before there was a gathering of 
 importance. 
 
 Besides Fiddling Larry and the barber of 
 Fairfield, there was another man who came 
 alone to this event. Butternut, on his calico 
 pony, rode thoughtfully through the hills, 
 just as he had ridden for the mail a week be 
 fore. At home, by an invented pretext, he 
 had sent his comrades ahead and spent an 
 hour with his books before starting on the 
 twelve-mile journey. He had been tempted 
 not to come at all, for she, of course, would 
 not be there, and, aside from her and his very 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 best book, he had come to find little of inter 
 est in his days. His romance had become a 
 serious thing, and it pained him the way this 
 woman, of whom he had seen so little, held 
 his heart. He should have known that pres 
 ence is secondary in the growth of such mat 
 ters, but then he was a Lambkin. He rea 
 soned most convincingly to himself that she 
 would not be at the dance. Used as she was 
 to more " polite " gaieties, the varied pleas 
 ures of city life not always more intellect 
 ual, to be sure, but certainly more fashionable 
 the rough frivolities of a cowboy dance, 
 miles distant, would scarcely appeal to her 
 as an attraction. Hence, why should he go? 
 Not because he was in love with Captain 
 Kitty did he ask this of course not. He had 
 merely found a certain pleasure in her society 
 which made other things seem barren and 
 empty. This dance, for example, with her 
 absent, would be a mere subterfuge. So 
 again, why should he go? Well, for the same 
 reason, perhaps, that a man sometimes drinks 
 to excess to find oblivion from his woes, to 
 shed his mental burdens like a garment. Al 
 though he knew (to a certainty!) that he did 
 
 135 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 not love her, he nevertheless reflected that in 
 Missouri she probably had a score or more 
 admirers, all distinguished in their chosen 
 walks, men of worldly power and success. 
 The thought caused him to smile rather pite- 
 ously at the important figure he must present 
 to her eyes a casual and penniless cowboy! 
 Compared to men of fortune and power, he 
 was merely one of a vast number, like the cat 
 tle on the plains. Of course he would have 
 never indulged in such self-abasement had he 
 felt that he had done his best. It was the 
 consciousness that he had been delinquent in 
 the light of his own standards that hurt. " A 
 man with talents who neglects them is worse 
 than a talentless man, for he is trampling on 
 angels." He had read something like that 
 recently in a new book, and it had smitten 
 him to the quick. 
 
 As the Lambkin dismounted at the Colo 
 nel s house, and hitched the calico pony 
 among the earlier equine arrivals, the first 
 dance ended, the jubilant fiddles ceased, and 
 the laughter and talk of perspiring rioters 
 flooded the night. By the time he had light 
 ened girth, hung his spurs on his saddle-horn, 
 
 136 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 and foraged some hay from the Colonel s 
 store, the set for the next " quadrille " was 
 forming. The Lambkin with an extra hand 
 kerchief flicked the dust from his boots, felt 
 the studied carelessness of his tie, and, pass 
 ing into the hall, dropped his hat in a corner. 
 The master of ceremonies was bawling " Two 
 more couples ! " when he met the Colonel s 
 young wife at the far end of the hall. To 
 this lady he made his most flexible bow, and 
 receiving a nod of understanding, they " sa 
 shayed " at once toward the middle of the 
 ballroom. 
 
 Instantly cries of " Let s play bear!" 
 "Who ll be the bear!" rang through the 
 room, but the smiling Lambkin stood un 
 moved. He had expected this, and was there 
 fore enabled to gossip in a delighted and 
 absorbed manner with his partner while his 
 facetious comrades shouted themselves hoarse. 
 He, of course, yearned to throttle Jimsey, but 
 that gentleman was protecting himself by 
 staying with the ladies, and besides the future 
 would provide a better time. 
 
 Suddenly the Lambkin s feet seemed 
 frozen to the floor. The last couple needed 
 
 !0 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 had come forward, and, trailing an eye in 
 their direction, he beheld the gallant McCor- 
 mick, and on his arm Captain Kitty, who had 
 just arrived. The fiddlers striking up at the 
 instant had drawn her attention toward them, 
 so his gaze flew quickly to another quarter, 
 and he thanked his stars that he had seen her 
 when she was not looking his way, thus gain 
 ing time to calm himself. Now he was all ease 
 and blithely conversing with his partner, 
 while his drooping eye counted the skirts 
 round the circle to his left. She would be 
 the fourth he would swing! 
 
 " Balance all! " bawled the prompter, and 
 the whirl began. As he reached and swung 
 her, the greeting she gave him was deliciously 
 cordial everything he could wish and as 
 he felt her warm fingers he could not for his 
 life prevent a flush from suffusing him to the 
 hair. He had passed her in a breath, how 
 ever, and was softly cursing himself, though 
 he was the best-dressed man on the floor. He 
 " spotted " her uncle, a florid but agreeable 
 looking man in city clothes, standing in the 
 doorway with the Colonel. 
 
 "Chase and swing! Grand right and 
 
 138 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 left! " called the resonant master of proceed 
 ings. 
 
 " Did you see Snuffles I mean Boodler, 
 as you came in? " he asked, when they next 
 circled together. Her eyes went wide with 
 such genuine pleasure that he was consumed 
 with remorse for the ruse he had in mind. 
 But before he could speak again the arm of 
 the next gallant had abducted her. 
 
 The dance concluded, he went to her, and 
 she presented him in the friendliest fashion 
 to her uncle, after which she demanded to be 
 taken at once to Boodler. He led her out 
 into the moonlight, through the yard to a side 
 gate, and on out to the farthermost wagon, 
 with its two horses haltered to the wheels, 
 munching hay. 
 
 " I hope you won t kill me, ma am," he 
 said, in his gentlest drawl, " if I tell you 
 Boodler is not here." 
 
 " Why, you said " 
 
 "I asked if you d seen him as you wentin." 
 
 She was not the woman who could fail 
 to relish the motive for his guile, but she had 
 to appear displeased. 
 
 " You came some distance to apologize." 
 139 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Madam," he said, softly, " I came to 
 give and receive a reprimand, and such things 
 are not for the whole population to hear." 
 
 " You came to give one? " 
 
 " Yes m. I was wonderin if you called 
 this ambition? " 
 
 She remembered her upbraiding banter, 
 and said hastily: 
 
 " Let s don t talk of ambition to-night. 
 Spartacus has been over to see us." 
 
 "Yes! McCormick did tell me he saw 
 him visitin at your place. He s some bigger 
 than Cookies, isn t he?" 
 
 " Oh, he s a monster. It can t be true that 
 General Custer whipped him? " 
 
 He smiled at the remembrance of that 
 lively and memorable affray. 
 
 " Yes m. It s terribly hard to believe, but 
 it s true as preachin . And you d never think 
 it of the general, would you? " 
 
 " I d never think it of Spartacus. I guess I 
 won t tell Jimsey, he d be so broken-hearted." 
 
 " Oh, he wouldn t believe you. He thinks 
 the world of Spartacus since the day he 
 hauled us out of a fix." 
 
 "Oh, then that is true!" she cried, 
 140 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 quickly. " I thought maybe that was just a 
 story. " 
 
 " Jimsey been tellin you that? Well, it s 
 quite true." 
 
 Then, she thought to herself, Jimsey s 
 climax must also be true. 
 
 She had seated herself on the slanting 
 wagon-tongue, while he rested his right foot 
 among the spokes. Thus in speaking to him 
 she was obliged to look up, and the moonlight 
 striking full upon her, he caught her rare 
 round face at its best. 
 
 "Look at that ring around the moon!" 
 she cried, suddenly, with unconscious serious 
 ness. " What is it there for? " 
 
 " I can t say," he drawled, as he looked, 
 " unless the lady up there s givin a circus." 
 
 He was all levity now, for even if he 
 blushed she could not discern it, though the 
 moonlight was strong. She laughed unre 
 strainedly, for the reason that she could not 
 help it. 
 
 " Why do you think there s a lady there? " 
 
 " Well," he said, deliberating, " I don t 
 know, unless it s because if there wasn t a 
 man wouldn t stay." 
 
 141 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 He was so much at ease in talking to her, 
 without arrogance, and his wit was so free 
 from the labored sort, that she was pleased 
 with him, and he knew it. 
 
 " I scarcely expected you here to-night," 
 he said, after the first silence. 
 
 " Indeed," she answered, quietly. " Was 
 that why you came? " 
 
 He was caught unawares at this, but liked 
 it, as a skilled fencer enjoys a touch of tem 
 per in the foeman s blade. 
 
 " I said scarcely/ ma am. It was the 
 hope that I d be mistaken that brought me." 
 
 Felicitous invention ! He thought to him 
 self what an admirable lie, yet it worried not 
 his conscience. 
 
 " Then, too," he went on, serenely, " we 
 cattle fellows have little else to amuse us. 
 But you are used to such better things. I 
 thought maybe a cowboy dance would be too 
 rough or unrefined to interest you." 
 
 " Rough! Unrefined! " she exclaimed, in 
 sudden resentment. " They are the rarest 
 and best people in the world. When you 
 see one of them you see a man as he is. At a 
 society * function in the cities it is hard to 
 
 142 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 make distinctions in men, they all look so like 
 automatons in their dress clothes, wearing the 
 same set smile, and are so excessively polite. 
 They torture you with their eternal patron 
 izing airs, and think they re pleasing you. 
 And the women are no better. Unnatural 
 and miserable, yet they smile smile smile 
 at anything you may say, and whether they 
 hear it or not, so that if a sensible speech does 
 come to the tongue, you don t feel like wast 
 ing it. But here all is sincerity. There is no 
 4 put on here. They wear their true feelings 
 in their faces, expressing themselves in every 
 action, and they know no etiquette that comes 
 not from the heart. They re as natural and 
 refreshing as the rocks and trees I love them 
 all!" 
 
 The Lambkin felt a flood of grateful 
 feeling come over him. 
 
 " Miss Kitty," he said, warmly, " that was 
 a right noble speech, and I m powerfully 
 proud to hear it." Then, suddenly, in his 
 most innocent drawl: 
 
 " Could you ever love one of them in par- 
 ticular? " 
 
 The fiddles were in high glee, and the 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 important bawl of the prompter came regu 
 larly through the night. From time to time 
 one of the ponies feeding at the rear of the 
 wagon put a peremptory hoof to the ground, 
 and in the sleepy hollow beneath the trees 
 the insects spun their drowsy song. As this 
 startling query came to her, she glanced nar 
 rowly at him, but he was looking interestedly 
 at the open windows. Did he refer to any 
 one of the general lot, or to some one already 
 individualized in his mind perhaps him 
 self? 
 
 " If you mean," she said, finally, and with 
 frankness, " the untutored ones, unfortunate 
 in learning and breeding I could not. I 
 love them as a class, just as I love everything 
 that is natural, honest, and good, but there 
 must be mental equality and culture for the 
 love you are thinking of. But if you mean 
 those of them who have both culture and 
 learning, as well as character, and have 
 chosen this life not because unfitted for high 
 er things, but because, perhaps, it was the best 
 that offered at one time, then I think / 
 could! " 
 
 He was still looking at the fleeting figures 
 144 
 
THE GREEN FORK DANCE 
 
 of the dancers. The capable orchestra never 
 flagged, and through the open windows came 
 the shuffle and slide of the jouncing feet 
 
 "Salute your ladies ! All together ! 
 
 Ladies opposite the same ; 
 Hit the lumber with your leather, 
 
 Balance all ! and swing your dame !" 
 
 Something in his kaleidoscopic view of 
 the whirling couples caused him to start sud 
 denly and make a lightning movement of his 
 hand to his side, while he turned with averted 
 face from her. She observed a momentary 
 rigidness in his figure, and instinctively knew 
 that he had been stirred by some strong emo 
 tion, but it was perhaps as well that she had 
 not seen the sudden white woe of his face. 
 He turned almost instantly back to her, and 
 at that moment the fiddles ceased. 
 
 " I believe I have the next dance," he 
 said, and his voice was steady and assuring. 
 
 They went into the house. 
 
 Then, his dance over, the Lambkin did 
 a wild thing. Without making his good-bys, 
 and seizing an opportune moment, he stole 
 like a hunted person from the house. Mc- 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Cormick and Jimsey were in the path be 
 tween the steps and the gate, but he passed 
 without seeing them, and an instant later, be 
 yond the yard, buckled on his spurs and, 
 mounting, rode the calico pony madly 
 through the night. 
 
 146 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 A PREVIOUS INCIDENT 
 
 WHAT did he see? Not the moonstruck 
 levels, not the row of cottonwoods by the 
 creek, certainly not the homeward trail, and 
 it was well that Terrapin knew the road. 
 The Lambkin was thinking of another trail, 
 which wound, in his memory, alongside a 
 canon which led past an assembly of squat 
 cabins, not many miles from the Circle-B. 
 The denizens of the camp called it a town 
 Whitewater they had named it, and he had 
 visited there frequently during his first year 
 on the range. He remembered that the big 
 cabin, known as " the Sable Serpent," at the 
 upper end of the gulch, had, by its hospitable 
 and versatile manners, won great popularity 
 among the inhabitants. It had a long plank 
 bar, some chairs, and a stage inside, and out 
 side a sign, flaming red, with a tall bottle in 
 the foreground and a black snake coiled above 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 it, taperingly, like a corkscrew. And the 
 floor of this place was not always rilled with 
 chairs, but regularly each night the room was 
 cleared and the space appropriated by hilari 
 ous men and women who swayed riotously to 
 the whine of a wheezy violin. Often in pass 
 ing he had heard the slump and slide of their 
 feet and caught fleeting views of their figures 
 swaggering by the windows, and once he had 
 glimpsed the profile of the man who leaned 
 his back to the wall and at intervals gave 
 them guiding information. Later, being 
 bolder, it had occurred to him one night to 
 go in, and he went in, accompanied by Mc- 
 Cormick, who was acquainted, and so made 
 it easy for him. McCormick, among other 
 ceremonies, presented him to the ladies, and 
 this he did in royal fashion, as if each were 
 a princess, and indeed perhaps they were in 
 poor McCormick s eyes. " Violet, the Whip- 
 poorwill," was the one he had recommended 
 to Butternut, who, new to the game, learned 
 to regard all she did as the outgrowth of her 
 admiration for him. She taught him the 
 quadrille, and at the time of his quarrel with 
 " Jemmy, the Shuffler," she had been on. hand 
 
 148 
 
A PREVIOUS INCIDENT 
 
 to care for his shattered wrist. Which was 
 certainly very nice of her. Not every woman, 
 he thought, would go to such trouble on his 
 account. Accordingly, he grew convinced 
 that she was of finer fabric than the others, 
 and came to believe himself very lucky. 
 Eventually he confided this to her, and she, 
 amid tearful remorse that it should be im 
 possible for him to think well of her, gave 
 him various woful fragments of personal his 
 tory which had never before been told to 
 mortal ear never! And he discovered a new 
 name for her conduct, which was heroism. 
 Finally it was clear to his mind that the 
 world was bereft of all poetry save that which 
 she inspired, and so began his worship of her. 
 It followed naturally that he should ride over 
 to Whitewater every Saturday night, with 
 McCormick, whom he told about Violet s 
 past, and McCormick was too generous to 
 hint that she had told him the same thing so 
 often that he could recite it offhand. To 
 Butternut it was plain that nothing save the 
 merciless force of circumstance had brought 
 the Whippoorwill to her present station, 
 and how could she have prevented that? 
 
 149 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Accordingly, he listened with profound sym 
 pathy to her, and was properly thrilled by 
 her resolutions of reform, somehow unmind 
 ful that there was always a third witness to 
 these conversations, and that was a long, dark 
 bottle from which she at periods drew inspi 
 ration, and for which he paid. 
 
 Then on a careless night she had pre 
 vailed upon him to the extent of a single 
 glass, whose influence, reenforced by her 
 smiles, sent him wandering in delightful 
 ways, with a weeping intelligence behind. 
 She had really fancied him then, and the 
 steps were few to the end of the gulch where 
 lived the parson of this glad town. So when 
 the unmeant words found his lips she was 
 ready, and thus did one of his enchanted 
 paths betray him, and lost Intelligence could 
 only weep afresh as he entered the temple of 
 destruction. 
 
 Few of the happenings of that hour had 
 remained clear to him save the vital and 
 vivid fact that he had been decently and 
 properly married. 
 
 Then he had received a terrible blow. 
 On the Saturday following he had ridden 
 
 150 
 
A PREVIOUS INCIDENT 
 
 not unjoyously to the Sable Serpent, hav 
 ing brought her a buttercup from over the 
 divide, and found her in the exclusive com 
 pany of the Shuffler, to whom he had not 
 heard her speak since the quarrel. And not 
 only was she in his company, but it was plain 
 that she was having a delightful time. The 
 Shuffler s wit must be something delicious, 
 for when he spoke she smiled most radiantly 
 and drank his health. And the Lambkin dis 
 covered that, on his approach, her hilarity, 
 instead of softening, became uproarious. He 
 suddenly found himself in the awkward po 
 sition of presenting a buttercup to a bride 
 who was laughing at him. Then his folly 
 grew tenfold. He demanded an explanation, 
 and this of course threw her into convulsions. 
 She wriggled through a prolonged spasm of 
 mirth, and among other things called upon 
 the Shuffle 1 - to bear her out in the opinion 
 that the Lambkin was a fool which the 
 Shuffler did with alacrity. And the Lamb 
 kin, after squeezing the buttercup to powder 
 in his grasp and withdrawing into the gulch, 
 also concurred in this opinion. 
 
 He had never seen her since, and the 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 wheel of her inclination taking her early be 
 yond his hearing had spared him the trouble 
 of turning his path. 
 
 But now had come another, a girl from 
 Missouri, whom he had not been sure that he 
 loved until to-night. He had thought it not 
 wrong to put the other one far toward the 
 back of his mind while he stole luxurious 
 moments in this new and wonderful presence, 
 until the delight of a great influence came to 
 him. Then, in the same breath with that 
 awakening, the dancers, through Colonel 
 Baldwin s windows, like a sliding lantern on 
 his vision, had become the dancers of the 
 Sable Serpent, and he knew that because he 
 loved her he was lost. 
 
 His remembrance of that night after the 
 Shuffler episode had never terribly distressed 
 him for the reason that there had come until 
 now no other woman. It had required a cer 
 tain condition to bring his folly home to him, 
 and that condition was arrived to-night and 
 had burnt upon his mind a picture of that 
 hour in all its garish colors. Twice, as he 
 galloped, he lifted his voice in a wild cry to 
 the night. There, in truth, had he played 
 
 152 
 
A PREVIOUS INCIDENT 
 
 the fool then indeed had he been the 
 Lambkin. 
 
 Thus the gentle Butternut at the end of 
 his twelve miles slunk reelingly into his 
 cabin, and, falling prone across his bunk, 
 cried out his heart in an agony of despair and 
 shame. 
 
 11 153 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 SINCE the day of her ride with Butter 
 nut on the River Road certain letters of 
 Captain Kitty, in addition to those she sent 
 her uncle, had been less frequent. She had 
 also experienced occasional thoughtful or ab 
 stracted moods which, though not new with 
 her, were unduly prolonged, and which her 
 sagacious old aunt, Mrs. Camden Collett, 
 coupling them with the irregularity of the 
 letters mentioned, had come to regard with a 
 suspicion not unmixed with alarm. 
 
 Mrs. Collett was not a wise woman, but 
 at a remote period had maneuvered into mat 
 rimony, and she knew enough about " signs " 
 to understand that it was time for appre 
 hension. 
 
 " It s all that Jimsey s doings," she said, 
 with a nervous setting together of her little 
 teeth. 
 
 154 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 The wily foreman and Mrs. Collett had 
 no great liking for each other. Jimsey had 
 accepted her as an institution at Twin Bar 
 because she was Captain Kitty s aunt, and 
 Mrs. Collett tolerated the foreman because 
 he was, apparently, a necessity at the ranch. 
 This astute lady hated the country and coun 
 try life, but the city she loved in fact, one 
 dusty brick in a pavement was more to her 
 than all the sweep and run of the rolling 
 lands about Twin Bar. Having no money, 
 she was dependent upon her brother, who, 
 while supplying her prudently, thought very 
 properly that she should attach herself to her 
 niece in the capacity of motherly guide and 
 protector, and whatever seemed proper to a 
 brother with a bank account was law unto 
 Mrs. Collett, for she, too, had the instincts of 
 a politician. 
 
 From the time she had joined her niece 
 at the ranch all her wiles and forces had been 
 employed toward one object a return to the 
 city. But day by day Catherine seemed to 
 drift farther beyond her reach into the hated, 
 unintelligible life about her, and to poor, puz 
 zled Mrs. Collett Foreman Jimsey was a sort 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 of wicked magician at the gates of this strange 
 world enticing her niece to the ruin which 
 would inevitably come with her marriage to 
 one of the terrible creatures that seemed as 
 natural a product of the untamed country as 
 the wild steer and the prairie grass. Every 
 word that Jimsey uttered about Butternut 
 turned into a dagger and swung over her 
 head; every time the cowboy was praised in 
 her presence she knew that another gray hair 
 started in her temples. A marriage like that 
 was too awful to contemplate. It could not 
 be. She was mad to think such a thing pos 
 sible when there was Dick Thorne, polished 
 and wealthy, not to speak of all the others 
 dear Richard, who owned the finest house on 
 the finest street in Kansas City, and was bereft 
 of both parents! To preside in that house 
 had so long been a glittering dream of Mrs. 
 Collett s that the prospect of so worthy an 
 ambition being thwarted struck her as noth 
 ing less than appalling. 
 
 On the second morning following the 
 dance on Green Fork, Mrs. Collett was lin 
 gering in the dining-room, her brow knit in 
 fine wrinkles over something Catherine had 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 said about living forever in such a wonderful 
 country, when her niece suddenly returned to 
 the room. 
 
 " Uncle tells me, Aunt Bertha, that he 
 asked Dick Thorne to pay us a visit, and is 
 expecting him to-day." 
 
 " Oh, the darling fellow!" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Collett, with a joyous move to em 
 brace her niece. " Won t it be lovely to 
 have him? Have you asked Jimsey to send 
 the buggy? " 
 
 " I hadn t thought of it." 
 
 " Then leave it to me, dear." 
 
 The delighted woman was so impatient to 
 triumph over Jimsey that she did not wait to 
 summon him, but went at once to his quar 
 ters, where she found the foreman at a late 
 breakfast. 
 
 " Is the surrey in condition? " she asked. 
 
 " Shines like a lookin -glass, ma am." 
 
 "The sorrel trotters in the stables?" 
 
 " Jest kickin fer air, ma am." 
 
 " Well, I want you to drive to the station 
 this afternoon to meet Mr. Thorne." She 
 made a pretended move to go, and turned to 
 him again. " I suppose I had better tell you 
 
 157 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 that Mr. Thorne is a very important visitor, 
 and I expect you to have everything in the 
 best order. He is much interested in my 
 niece, and I am pleased to know that she re 
 turns his interest." 
 
 " Mr. Thorne, ma am? " said Jimsey, in 
 gentlemanly consternation. 
 
 " Yes. I don t think Miss Cloud will go 
 back with him this time, but she s very im 
 pulsive, and I am prepared for anything." 
 
 Poor Jimsey almost gulped his cup in his 
 effort to swallow his discomfiture with his 
 coffee. 
 
 " I ll give him some news for Circle-B, 
 anyway," mused the satisfied lady, as she left 
 the room, believing that she had heard the 
 last of the presumptuous foreman s insinua 
 tions regarding the odious Butternut. 
 
 An hour after Jimsey s depature for the 
 station, Catherine, on horseback, set out in 
 the same direction, leading a second horse 
 that bore a man s saddle. Yielding to a sud 
 den impulse, and recalling the many pleas 
 ures she owed to Dick Thorne (they had 
 really been strong friends in the " society " 
 whirl), she had decided to treat him to a ride 
 
 158 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 and show him some of the country this very 
 afternoon. Aunt Bertha observed her de 
 parture with a smile of supreme content. 
 The indications, to her, were that things were 
 settled at last. 
 
 Two miles from the station Catherine met 
 Jimsey with his traveler. The foreman wore 
 a look of subdued protest. To be asked to 
 drive to the station instead of sending a hand 
 was itself an indignity, but to be forced to 
 drive a Mr. Thorne was injury unpardon 
 able. That gentleman was not only un 
 troubled, but profoundly at his ease. John 
 Ramsgate s invitation to spend a season at 
 Twin Bar had come to him like the announce 
 ment of a long-expected victory. He re 
 garded it as a sort of road by which he and 
 Catherine were to finally reach an under 
 standing. True, it had been a little incon 
 venient for him to leave the city just then, 
 but love is love, and his fashionable world 
 had showed him few women that pleased him 
 from so many points of view as Catherine. 
 As he watched her advancing he congratu 
 lated himself, finding naught but assurance in 
 the impatience which he understood had 
 
 159 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 brought her thus to meet him. He had for 
 gotten how amazingly beautiful she was, 
 though he did not like to admit that his 
 memory as a lover could be so inaccurate. 
 She drew rein and waited, and looking more 
 closely he felt that there was something new 
 in her presence something hinting of the 
 majestic and unapproachable. It had long 
 been a tormenting question with him whether 
 she looked best in golf or in riding-habit, but 
 to-day the point was settled. 
 
 " Heigh-o, Kit," he greeted, with the 
 cheap familiarity of fashion, leaping from 
 the surrey and going to her side. 
 
 " Hello, Dick," she answered, with the 
 same meaningless freedom, but withdrawing 
 the hand he was inclined to hold too long. 
 " Here s a horse for you. Jump on." 
 
 His courtly attitude was spoiled, which 
 was not pleasant. Then, a ride in his exces 
 sively neat traveling suit! 
 
 " You don t want me to ride with you in 
 this dress, Kit? Your man here can take the 
 horses and I ll drive you in." 
 
 " Idiot," she said, a little impatiently, 
 " we are not on the Boulevard. Get on." 
 
 1 60 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 He saw from her face that further hesi 
 tancy would be a mistake, so leaped into the 
 saddle, and they rode toward the river. 
 
 Dick Thorne, man of wealth and society, 
 was no bad figure on a horse, and because 
 he was in city dress was certainly not to his 
 discredit, but to Catherine he seemed so ill 
 to fit the wild scenery about them that she 
 could not restrain an amused smile. He 
 caught the mirth in her eye, and, attributing 
 it wholly to the absence of his riding dress, 
 laughed with her. 
 
 " I call this taking a mean advantage," he 
 railed, in playful scorn. " However, as long 
 as you have made a show of me, I m glad you 
 are enjoying it." 
 
 " I was thinking your riding clothes 
 wouldn t mend matters much," she said. 
 
 " I understand," he laughed. " You are 
 so used to seeing nothing but cowboys that 
 I d look like a freak, even in my best dress. 
 I say, Kit, how the dickens am I to make 
 love to you on horseback? " 
 
 " Make love! For Heaven s sake, don t 
 attempt anything so stupid." She recalled a 
 day, along the River Road, when, with never 
 
 161 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 a word of love, a certain man had thrilled 
 her to the soul. 
 
 He saw that she was in deep earnest, and 
 it occurred to him that his first idea about 
 her unapproachableness had been no mistake. 
 He thought to play upon her vanity. 
 
 " Do you know what I thought, Kit, when 
 I caught sight of you on your horse? " Her 
 eyes were wandering restlessly beyond him 
 toward the river and the open hills. " I 
 thought that if Queen Elizabeth had had the 
 beauty of Scottish Mary she would have 
 looked like you." 
 
 " Don t be silly, Dick. Why don t you 
 look at those mountains?" 
 
 " What are they to me when I have your 
 face?" 
 
 His admiration was honest, but it seemed 
 to burn her in a furnace of humiliation. 
 She was longing for a speech appropriate to 
 the time and place, and here was a man pay 
 ing worn-out compliments to a woman. Her 
 silent lips sent him trailing for another ap 
 proach. 
 
 " She used to be crazy about books," he 
 said to himself, and ventured: " The Shelley 
 
 162 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 Club wants you back, Kit. Say there s no 
 genuine spirit left." 
 
 " Oh, don t," she pleaded, remembering 
 how she had read Alastor in a brilliant room 
 to a dozen mediocre intellects, and then dis 
 sected that flower made of a poet s heart until 
 the empty applause had made her shiver. 
 
 " So you ve given up culture for na 
 ture? " he asked, on another tack. 
 
 " They are the same." 
 
 " May I tell that to the Club? " 
 
 " No. And don t remind me of my piti 
 ful attempts to be intellectual. There lives 
 a man over there on that ranch to the east 
 who can sit on the root of a cottonwood 
 and look up at the leaves and read more 
 Shelley than you or I will ever know." 
 
 " Indeed!" said Thorne, receiving his 
 first alarm. " You ve seen him do it, I sup 
 pose?" 
 
 " No. I hardly know him." 
 
 " Then how have you learned of his ex 
 traordinary capacity? " 
 
 " From his eyes." 
 
 "Oh!" He took his second alarm. 
 " Speaking eyes, I presume?" 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " No, silent eyes. The things in them are 
 incommunicable." 
 
 " They seem to have informed you pretty 
 well." 
 
 " About smaller things, yes; but I ll never 
 get to the depths of them." 
 
 " Upon my word! " 
 
 " Upon mine, too," cried Catherine, 
 laughing away the last minute which had 
 surprised her as much as it had surprised 
 Thorne. 
 
 "Kit!" he exclaimed, in sudden relief. 
 "You made it all up!" 
 
 " I believe I did," said Catherine. Then 
 they were both more comfortable than at any 
 time since their meeting. Thorne held out 
 his hand, and she took it frankly. To the 
 man it meant that they were lovers, to the 
 woman it meant that they could never be 
 lovers, and each thought the other under* 
 stood. 
 
 They were still cantering toward the river. 
 The deep canon of the Pecos along here is 
 impassable for more than a hundred miles, 
 save at two fords about three miles apart, and 
 they were headed toward the lower ford. 
 
 164 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 On every hand the great treeless plains rose 
 wide and high and mountainous, but the face 
 of Dick Thorne reflected the monotony he 
 found in the landscape. 
 
 " I say, Kit, when are you coming back 
 to the city? You don t call this living, do 
 you?" 
 
 " Well, I wasn t particularly thrilled by 
 it at first, but now the vastness of these rolling 
 plains fascinates and delights me." 
 
 " I can see but one attraction in them." 
 
 " And that? " 
 
 " They d make magnificent golf-links! " 
 
 His face was as solemn as the mountains, 
 but she caught the twinkle of his bold, blue 
 eye, and laughed heartily. 
 
 " I m glad your true nature has showed 
 itself, and you are not going to be silly." 
 
 " That one of your prairie animals? " 
 
 He pointed forward to a mounted figure 
 on the plain, brought into view by a sudden 
 curve and rise in the road, the figure of a 
 handsome giant in a ranchman s suit, so per 
 fectly appropriate that it might have been 
 designed by a genius for the completion 
 of harmony between man and dress. He 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 was intently scanning the plain in front of 
 him. 
 
 " Wouldn t be a bad-looking fellow in a 
 decent suit/ 7 continued Thorne. 
 
 " It goes well with the prairie and the 
 sky," said Catherine, smiling as she recog 
 nized McCormick. 
 
 " You seem to know him," said Thorne. 
 " Is he the one with the eyes? " 
 
 " Well, he has eyes, I think you ll find," 
 said Catherine, with a droop of her own that 
 completed the lie, for her remark was a 
 guard-piece hastily thrown up as her sweep 
 ing glance fell on Butternut, who, with sev 
 eral companions, waited in the shadow of a 
 hill. " Come on and I ll introduce you." 
 
 "Introduce !" 
 
 His surprise died in a gasp, for Catherine 
 was riding to McCormick, and the introduc 
 tion followed as soon as Thorne came up. 
 McCormick s heart had thumped down to 
 ward his boots as his eye fell on the man in 
 " city " clothes, but Catherine s cordial greet 
 ing restored it to its normal position. Thorne 
 seemed the troubled one now, for the cowboy 
 proved to be still handsomer at close view, 
 
 1 66 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 and his eyes were a deep blue, to which the 
 lover s suspicion added the quality of dreami 
 ness. 
 
 " Aren t you afraid the Cross-S will take 
 you up for trespassing, Mr. McCormick? " 
 said Catherine. " I ve heard that the men 
 over there are not in love with their neigh 
 bors. They own all the land down to the 
 river, don t they? " 
 
 " More, too, Miss Kitty," said the giant 
 with a courteous sweep of his sombrero. 
 " Since the Pecos Cattle Company bought the 
 Cross-S they ve got holt o the hull valley, V 
 they ve picked the country for the meanest 
 lot o rascals that ever camped together. Had 
 to, I reckon, fer a honest man wouldn t work 
 fer the skinny ol company." 
 
 Butternut rode up, and Catherine re 
 ceived him with a little smile and bow. The 
 Lambkin s object in advancing was to stop 
 McCormick s talk at the proper place, but 
 nothing could stem the giant s eagerness to 
 maintain a conversation with Captain Kitty. 
 
 " I hope they are not giving you 
 trouble? " she said, making the hope a ques 
 tion. 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Well, not us so much," replied the 
 giant, in spite of a raised lid from Butternut, 
 " but they re actin the blamed cuss to as 
 decent folks as ever come into the country. 
 The Berrys five brothers they are bought 
 the Ogden strip that begins about a mile 
 t other side the ford, n now the Cross-S has 
 bought all round em n is shuttin em in 
 from all the roads. The Berrys hev offered 
 to sell, but the stingy oP company ca culates 
 to run em out n git their property for 
 nothinV 
 
 "Why, Mr. McCormick! We must do 
 something about this. What an outrage! " 
 
 "Yes m. That s jest it a outrage, n 
 outrages are punishable by pistol or hemp in 
 this country whichever comes handiest." 
 
 " No, no," cried Catherine. " Don t do 
 anything like that! The law will protect 
 these poor people." 
 
 " Yes," said Butternut, in his gentlest 
 voice, to which a quiet glitter in his eye gave 
 singular emphasis, " it will when they re all 
 dead. I m thinkin , McCormick, we d better 
 move on. And you, Miss Cloud, had better 
 not take up the Pecos road. Some o the 
 
 168 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 Cross-S delegates are hidin along there, and 
 a stray bullet is frequently more dangerous 
 than a bullet well aimed." 
 
 She fancied an instant a studied distant- 
 ness in his tones, but attributed it wholly to 
 that mental tension naturally incident to a 
 time of peril. 
 
 "Mr. Jones!" she cried, "this is terri 
 ble! Have you sent to the Twin Bar for 
 help?" 
 
 " We can t allow a lady s ranch to be 
 troubled, ma am. There s no makin sure 
 where this will end, and the Twin Bar is 
 practically in your charge." 
 
 " You see, Miss Kitty," said McCormick, 
 still regarding it as his conversation, " I heard 
 this mornin that the Berrys was hevin it 
 lively, with the Cross-S after em for cuttin 
 wire fences what I jest hoped they d hev 
 spunk enough to do so I lopes over with 
 what men could be spared, and we ve been 
 hevin things purty hot all the evenin , V one 
 o the Berrys, the youngest, is layin over there 
 dead now, t other side the ford " 
 
 "Mercies!" gasped Catherine. "This 
 must stop at once! " 
 
 is 169 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " I m perfectly willin , miss; but as we re 
 sit yated at present it cain t stop. We re 
 sorter caught here in a sack, n we ve got to 
 cut out. Ye see we was all on t other side 
 the river, makin together toward the upper 
 ford, cept the youngest Berry. He was 
 scoutin down to the south o us, n got too 
 near the rascals, V they hit him plumb. We 
 heard the shot, n come tearin , but when we 
 got to the trouble, all t we could see was 
 three o the Cross-S critters makin over the 
 ford. We hit after em, n was so rippin 
 mad that we run em two miles this side, 
 right into the enemy s country. Then we see 
 a bunch o the devils comin round a hill a, 
 mile ahead o us, n know d that we was 
 trapped. Bein so many, they d a done us 
 damage, n we ca culate to git out whole if 
 we kin." 
 
 " Then why don t you go back at once? " 
 asked Catherine. 
 
 McCormick began to stammer, and But 
 ternut took up the discourse: 
 
 " Because when we rushed over the ford 
 the gang we d been scoutin for at the upper 
 ford came boltin down, and they re retired 
 
 170 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 in the gully there now, waitin to pepper our 
 return track." 
 
 " Oh, my goodness ! " 
 
 " Now, Miss Cloud, you and your friend 
 go back and get out o this. You ll probably 
 see a clump o horsemen about two miles 
 down the road, but just ride by and say noth- 
 in . They ll not bother you. McCormick, 
 we must cross the ford." 
 
 " You re not going to ride in there and 
 let them fire on you? " trembled Catherine. 
 
 " Not exactly, ma am," said McCormick, 
 hurrying to save his position as general of the 
 maneuvers. " We re goin to make a run 
 across the plain to the upper ford. They s a 
 chaince they ve left no men up there, V they 
 can t race up the windin river V beat us in." 
 
 " But if they ve left men there? " 
 
 " Then we ll hev to locate em, that s all. 
 Butternut, we d better go single file." 
 
 "Oh!" cried Catherine, "so they can 
 pick you off one at a time! " 
 
 " Not at all," grinned the giant. " If we 
 ride in together they ll git the drop on the 
 whole of us jest what they re layin for n 
 we won t git a back shot. But we don t expec 
 
 171 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 to play to their hand. We ll go in a few yards 
 apart, V they ll have to shoot at one man or 
 keep quiet; then we ve got em spotted n kin 
 fight it out." 
 
 " Who will ride first? " asked Catherine, 
 in a low voice. 
 
 "Why," said McCormick, wonderingly, 
 " I reckon I m leadin the party." 
 
 " And I," said Butternut, quietly, " will 
 go second if you will ride Terrapin, Mc 
 Cormick." 
 
 " Change now," said the giant, and ac 
 cordingly they did. 
 
 Catherine s wonderment was lost in the 
 sudden chill which she felt at her heart. 
 Butternut was to ride second, and she had 
 said he was brave to his very face. 
 
 " I m thinkin ," pursued McCormick, as 
 he glanced at the sun, " as it s such a short 
 time till night, we d better wait. There s a 
 good moon, but our chainces 11 be better, n 
 I reckon there s re lly no danger of em clos- 
 in in on us here s long as they ve got the 
 ford." 
 
 " We can t wait, McCormick," said But 
 ternut, impatiently. " Maybe some of them 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 have crossed the river and gone to the Berry 
 house, and there s the poor old woman " 
 
 "What! not alone!" cried Catherine. 
 " Why didn t you tell me? I will go to her 
 at once." 
 
 Thorne, who had been politely silent, now 
 became sufficiently animated to protest, and 
 McCormick seconded him. Butternut pre 
 served careful silence. 
 
 " You mustn t think of it, Miss Kitty," 
 said the giant. " It s too dangerous, for if 
 we don t git the best o them in the skirm 
 ish, they ll likely finish the job by firm the 
 house. No, you jest git on now, and I ll 
 see what the men say about holdin off till 
 night." 
 
 The giant rode off with his head in the air, 
 sorry to leave Captain Kitty, but glad to pose 
 in her eyes as " the leader of the party." But 
 ternut ought to have gone too, but as Cath 
 erine lingered he made no move. 
 
 " Mr. Jones Oh, I did not introduce 
 you to Mr. Thorne. You must get the men 
 to wait. I m going to ride home as fast as 
 I can, and send all the men from Twin Bar 
 to the upper ford by the north road." 
 
 173 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Please do nothing, Miss Cloud. Your 
 uncle You will get the men into trouble." 
 
 " If you think they would displease my 
 uncle in coming, I must let you know that 
 Mr. Ramsgate is not that kind of a man. 
 Moreover, he is a friend of Senator Ardell s, 
 and if there is no law to protect people in 
 the condition of this poor family, he will 
 make one. Mr. Ardell will do anything for 
 my uncle." 
 
 The Lambkin bowed apologetically as he 
 said: 
 
 " Miss Cloud, I will tell you what you 
 must soon learn. Mr. Ardell controls the 
 cattle company, now owning the Cross-S, and 
 these men are acting under his orders. Jus 
 tice can not be got out of him, because it isn t 
 in him." 
 
 " Mr. Ardell does own the Cross-S, 
 Kitty," said Thorne, who saw an opportunity 
 to get in an impressive word, " and," turn 
 ing to Butternut, " I happen to know that he 
 will be at his ranch to-morrow. My uncle, 
 Judge Thorne, knew that he was coming 
 down, and asked me to see him on some per 
 sonal business. I give you my word that 
 
 174 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 he will be persuaded to do the Berrys jus 
 
 tice." 
 
 " Thank you, Richard," said Catherine, 
 almost proud of him. 
 
 " I thank you, too," said Butternut, un 
 consciously adopting the polite language of 
 Thorne; "but you are setting yourself an 
 impossible task." 
 
 McCormick now returned to them, fol 
 lowed by the Circle-B men and the Berrys. 
 
 " The vote is to wait," said the giant, 
 simply. 
 
 " Mr. Jones seems to wish no help," said 
 Catherine, addressing the big cowboy, " but 
 I will send you our men as quick as I 
 can. Meanwhile I hope you will accept Mr. 
 Thome s service." 
 
 The polite face of Thorne showed that 
 he was a little dazed by this remark, not so 
 much because he was lacking in courage, 
 perhaps, as because he had not been expect 
 ing it. 
 
 " We ll be glad to hev him among us," 
 said McCormick, with a smile of broad 
 patronage toward the man from the city. 
 But if Thorne felt any apprehension as to 
 
 175 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 entering upon such a style of warfare, he 
 was wise enough to hide it from his lady 
 love. 
 
 " I shall be happy to join you, gentlemen," 
 he said quickly, " if you will oblige me with 
 a weapon." 
 
 McCormick doubted if he meant it, but 
 courteously ordered a rigid search in his in 
 terest, which, however due, perhaps, to an 
 adroit but comprehensive wink from the cow 
 boy failed to develop any spare arms. The 
 city man, to their minds, looked entirely too 
 incongruous to figure seriously in this mat 
 ter. Thorne, therefore, was obliged to ride 
 regretfully away with Captain Kitty. 
 
 Down the road they espied the " clump 
 of horsemen," but rode by them unchal 
 lenged. 
 
 " My plan," said Thorne, " would be to 
 fight it out in daylight." 
 
 " And I should take moonlight," said 
 Catherine. " It was a wise idea, I think, of 
 Mr. McCormick s." 
 
 " That s because you like him," he said. 
 " Funny how you gentle creatures always 
 lean to these lumberly giants. Now the slim 
 
THE TWIN BAR HAS A VISITOR 
 
 fellow was miles ahead of him, to my mind. 
 He had grace." 
 
 "Which one?" she asked, quickly, while 
 her heart seemed touched with flame. 
 
 " Why, the one you called Jones. You 
 didn t seem to notice him until he made you 
 half mad. And he was the only one worth 
 looking at. He s as trim as a deer. Put him 
 in decent clothes, and a woman might well 
 look at him more than once, too." 
 
 "Rather dull, wasn t he?" she asked, 
 with shrewd indifference, her tone making 
 him pursue the theme. 
 
 " Dull! His eye cuts like a brier! Didn t 
 you get the flash of it when he said the law 
 will protect them i when they re all dead ? 
 ( When they re all dead, " he repeated, mock 
 ing the Lambkin s drawl. " He quite took 
 me. I d like to have him up in the city, and 
 I wouldn t be ashamed of him either. He 
 would fit anywhere." 
 
 " I suppose you mean in society s draw 
 ing-room? " 
 
 " Well, he would know where to put his 
 feet, I imagine." 
 
 "What an accomplishment!" she said, 
 177 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 hating Thorne for this picture of her " prod 
 uct " of nature, her knight of the plains, 
 while almost loving him for his recognition 
 of Butternut s peculiar attractiveness. 
 
 " The big fellow," continued Thorne, 
 " might do for a coachman." 
 
 She was not particularly interested in 
 McCormick, but this was too much for her 
 to pass in silence. 
 
 " Neither money nor misfortune, Rich 
 ard," she flashed, " can ever put the spirit of 
 a flunkey into a cowboy. They are all men! " 
 
 He promptly and profusely apologized. 
 
 " Well, by Jove, Kit, I see that I ve got 
 to watch my tongue." 
 
 She readily forgave him. For had he not 
 praised Butternut? But, as this thought 
 brought the Lambkin again to her mind, for 
 the second time her heart seemed suddenly 
 chilled. He was to ride second! Some women 
 in some humors would rather see the death of 
 the man than the death of their ideal. Her 
 ideal would have ridden first. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 WHEN Jimsey reached home he took Mr. 
 Thome s bag from the surrey with due out 
 ward respect, for Mrs. Collett was watching 
 from an upper window, but when he depos 
 ited the hated property in the room which 
 had been made delightful for its prospective 
 occupant, he gave it a kick that would have 
 endangered any breakable contents. Then 
 he sat down and made himself as miserable 
 as possible. 
 
 " It s all over with Lambkin," he groaned, 
 " and blame me if I kin ever look in his face 
 and tell him." 
 
 His musing was interrupted by Mrs. 
 Collett. 
 
 " I wish to make sure that everything is 
 ready in the dear boy s room. He is so fas 
 tidious. More particular, even, than Cath- 
 
 179 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 erine, I m afraid. Poor, thoughtless child! 
 I hope she will be able to please him." 
 
 This mental picture of so much beauty 
 and sweetness degraded to the occupation of 
 pleasing the clay figure he had met at the 
 station was too much for Jimsey, and to pre 
 vent an explosion he hastened to his quar 
 ters, where he nursed it out. 
 
 About dusk John Ramsgate arrived from 
 Langtry, a progressive town some thirty miles 
 south of Twin Bar. He seemed preoccupied 
 with business, and went at once to his room, 
 while Mrs. Collett hurried preparations for 
 dinner. Orders had been given early for as 
 elaborate a meal as the ranch could provide, 
 and all the servants knew that Mr. Thorne 
 was a very important visitor indeed. 
 
 That gentleman and Catherine rode up a 
 few minutes after Mr. Ramsgate s arrival. 
 Mrs. Collett greeted Thorne with the cere 
 monious familiarity of a new relative. 
 
 " I suppose I may," she said, planting a 
 measured kiss on his forehead which was in 
 tended to tell him that she knew all. But if 
 she did her knowledge was considerably more 
 extensive than Thome s. He was beginning 
 
 1 80 
 
CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 to find out that he knew nothing. Catherine 
 was the only one who was growing in knowl 
 edge. 
 
 " Your uncle has come, my dear," said 
 Mrs. Collett. 
 
 " Oh! " Catherine turned to Thorne with 
 a flourish. " Now it will be all right! " 
 
 Mrs. Collett, thinking the exclamation 
 referred to the engagement, felt a thrill of 
 delight trickle clear to her toes. 
 
 " Here he is," called the girl, on her way 
 to her uncle s room. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Ramsgate, at the head 
 of the stairs, " here we are." 
 
 For Catherine was already up the stairs 
 and in his arms. She brought him down 
 caressingly, and he greeted Thorne with a 
 most cordial hand. He was fond of Thorne, 
 for political reasons, the young man s rela 
 tionship to Judge Thorne being something 
 to be valued. 
 
 " My dear fellow! Glad to see you here. 
 Must have taken a strong pull to get you 
 down in this wilderness." 
 
 " Oh, uncle," cried Catherine, unable to 
 
 wait for ceremony, " there s trouble at " 
 
 181 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Trouble, my dear? Well, we ll take it 
 after dinner. You must be ready to pick a 
 bone, Richard." 
 
 This was a literal fact; Thorne was ready 
 to pick a bone. The man of golf and fashion 
 had been so full of dreams of Catherine and 
 conquest that he had failed to leave the train 
 when it stopped for dinner, and his fast had 
 combined with his long ride to give his 
 methodically fed stomach the cravings of a 
 cannibal. The sudden mention of dinner, 
 therefore, rather upset his discretion, and he 
 responded with a palpable eagerness that he 
 was quite ready to dine. 
 
 " Brush up, then, both of you, and we ll 
 begin." 
 
 Thorne was shown to his room and Cath 
 erine went to hers, her heart beating hotly 
 and her temples singing. He could think of 
 eating when nine men might be dying! As 
 for her uncle, she saw that he was in his most 
 pompous and selfish mood, and that she 
 would really gain time with him by waiting 
 until he was comfortably settled at his din 
 ner. But the loss of a minute was almost 
 intolerable to her, and brought her impulsive 
 
 182 
 
CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 being the keenest physical as well as mental 
 suffering. 
 
 " I hope, sister, that you ve something a 
 man can really eat," Mr. Ramsgate was say 
 ing as she entered the dining-room. Mrs. 
 Collett, knowing the dinner was a triumph, 
 smiled with beseeching deprecation. " How 
 can they? " thought Catherine. " But they 
 don t know." And she became more enraged 
 with Thorne, who did know. 
 
 " I ve sent for my foreman," said Mr. 
 Ramsgate. " I can take his report now, and 
 you won t mind a busy man, Richard. I 
 haven t many more nights here, and I am not 
 here for pleasure, you know. By the way, 
 anybody know anything about that muss at 
 the Cross-S? Ardell is owner there now." 
 
 " Uncle," said Catherine, on her feet, 
 " that s the trouble. You must send help at 
 once to the upper ford all the men " 
 
 Jimsey entered unobserved and stood re 
 spectfully. 
 
 "Tut! You don t mean to say there s a 
 fight on?" said Mr. Ramsgate, with a cut 
 into the roast and a satisfied sniff. 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes!" 
 
 183 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 "Can t be any danger. Sit down! Sit 
 down! The Cross-S has enough men to take 
 care of it if those fool farmers are so stark 
 mad as to make a fight." 
 
 "The Cross-S! It s the Cattle Company 
 that s making all the trouble! You don t un 
 derstand! They ve shut those poor people in 
 cut them off from all the roads, and won t 
 buy their property, and now they are trying 
 to kill them!" 
 
 " Serve em right. They ve been cuttin 
 the fences. I know somethin . Come, miss, 
 eat your dinner. Richard, don t let this take 
 your appetite. Sit down, Catherine. Don t 
 show yourself a girl when I ve been makin 
 a man of you. Yes, Richard, she s been right 
 handy to me since I bought these diggin s." 
 
 " You won t send any help to the Berrys? " 
 
 " Not by Tom Walker! Eh, Jimsey, you 
 hear me? If any man wants to go, let him 
 take his pay and his grip-sack with him." 
 
 " And you won t ask Mr. Ardell to buy 
 their property? " 
 
 "No! What s the use of tryin to look 
 after people that have no more sense than to 
 buy a little strip o 7 land that can be fenced 
 in?" 
 
 184 
 
CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 " And you won t get a law passed to pro 
 tect people in such cases? " 
 
 " No! Laws are not made for fools! " 
 
 " Then you are not a law-maker, but a 
 law-breaker, a murderer, and a thief!" 
 
 The company rose to its several feet. 
 Catherine s brown eyes, gleaming with 
 twelfth-century fires, radiated light that 
 seemed to burn the whole room. John Rams- 
 gate made a step in her direction as if he 
 would seize and shake her, but he dropped 
 his hand, for even he felt the magnificence 
 of her anger. 
 
 Mrs. Collett in a flash saw a vision of 
 Catherine disinherited by her uncle and in 
 turn rejected by Richard, and herself very 
 far away from the finest house on the finest 
 street in Kansas City, and she saved the situ 
 ation by the worst nervous attack of her life. 
 It really seemed probable for a few moments 
 that she .would not live. 
 
 "Auntie, dear auntie!" sobbed Cath 
 erine, on her knees. 
 
 "John, John! You will forgive her 
 forgive her! " Mrs. Collett finally murmured. 
 
 " Of course, my dear, of course. Don t 
 is 185 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 let that trouble you. Come, Catherine, kiss 
 me, girl, and tell your old uncle you were a 
 little fool." 
 
 So Catherine, feeling that there must be 
 something about it all which she could not 
 understand, and which would be explained, 
 kissed him, and Mrs. Collett revived to such 
 an extent that the dinner proceeded. Jimsey 
 was interviewed and dismissed. During the 
 occupation of Mr. Ramsgate with his fore 
 man Mrs. Collett murmured tentatively to 
 Richard, whose seat was next hers: 
 
 " What must you think of her? " 
 
 " I think that she is glorious," returned 
 Richard, who had eaten expeditiously and 
 well. " Wouldn t have missed it for a gold 
 mine, by Jove! Did you ever see anything 
 so gorgeous? Hard on the senator, though." 
 
 " Ah, you understand her! You will not 
 mind these moods?" 
 
 " She can have as many as she likes if 
 she ll only let me be there to see." 
 
 " You are in love," said happy Mrs. Col 
 lett, patting his hand under the table. 
 
 In the large sitting-room, with its easy- 
 chairs, piano, scattered music and books, con- 
 
 186 
 
CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 versation ran along easily, without reference 
 to the explosive subject, until Mr. Ramsgate 
 thought it safe and timely to touch upon it 
 for the last time. He knew there must always 
 be a rounding-up and a final word where a 
 woman has interested herself in a matter. 
 
 " My captain mustn t be worried," he 
 said. " It s all a bluff with the Cross-S. 
 They don t want to draw blood. Ardell can t 
 afford to have a big stir just now. He ll call 
 the men off. Probably he s telegraphed al 
 ready. Anyway, I know he don t mean blood 
 with politics like they are. So you be easy 
 and just keep your noddle out of the business. 
 Worryin won t bring beauty-sleep, will it, 
 Richard?" 
 
 Thorne airily suggested that she did not 
 need to concern herself about that sort of 
 sleep, and offered to ride down to the Berry 
 place the next day and bring her news from 
 the spot. At which Catherine looked at 
 him and rippled a laugh that made him 
 uneasy. 
 
 " Wouldn t you like to hear? " he asked. 
 
 " No not to-morrow." 
 
 " That s little Kitty," laughed her uncle, 
 187 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " just as she was when a baby. Vixen one 
 minute and angel the next. You see, Rich 
 ard, it s all over now, and she s just as sen 
 sible as I am. By gracious!" he finished 
 suddenly, jumping up, " I forgot that con 
 founded bag of papers. Must get them of! 
 in the morning. Sorry I can t be with you 
 this evening, but guess you won t miss me. 
 Good night! Good night, Bertha, and good 
 night, my little Kitty." 
 
 As he went out Catherine leaned over her 
 aunt and whispered, " You will stay with me, 
 auntie?" 
 
 " The darling child," thought Mrs. Col- 
 lett, " who could ever believe her to be so 
 timid with all that fire in her? " 
 
 Catherine was just, and she felt that she 
 had not given Richard a fair chance. She 
 had demanded that he should show the same 
 spirit on his arrival that had grown up in 
 her after months of breathing in that magi 
 cal atmosphere. He had not had a fair 
 trial, and she would be kind to him until 
 he got away and through him to-night she 
 would say good-by to the old fashionable 
 life, much of which had been dear to her. So 
 
 188 
 
CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 she played to him and sang one or two bal 
 lads that he asked for, and all with such 
 mystic tenderness and hovering manner that 
 Mrs. Collett was quite deceived, and Jimsey, 
 coming into the room to make an inquiry, 
 caught one of her " good-by " smiles to Rich 
 ard that turned him cold to his boots. And 
 she was thinking, as she smiled, " They may 
 be dying now nine of them dying now." 
 Thorne was entranced. He had never 
 dreamed that she could be so dear, so sweet, 
 or that his love could be so strong. Would 
 her aunt never go away? 
 
 Catherine sang again, while she asked 
 herself, " Are they going across the ford now? 
 Is McCormick dead? Is the second man 
 dead? Is the man Berry, the youngest one, 
 still lying on the plain? Does the old mother 
 know?" 
 
 She closed the piano. 
 
 " No more? " appealed Thorne. 
 
 " No more to-night. I am tired." 
 
 " But you will stay? " he implored, for 
 she was leaving the room. 
 
 " No, no! I am really tired. To-mor 
 row!" 
 
 189 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Voice and face were gone, and Dick 
 Thorne was left staring. 
 
 " Poor child! I did not know she had 
 so much feeling," said Mrs. Collett. " You 
 have stirred her to her inmost self, my dear 
 Richard." 
 
 Before ascending the stairs Catherine 
 went into the dining-room, and, throwing 
 open a window, gazed in the direction where 
 she knew the river lay. Jimsey s voice came 
 out of the dark: 
 
 " Miss Kitty, tell me about it." 
 
 And she told him every detail. Jimsey 
 at once disclosed his intention of riding to 
 the ford. 
 
 " No," said Catherine. " One more 
 would not help." 
 
 " I want to go to Butternut," persisted 
 Jimsey, like a child. 
 
 "Jimsey," she said, putting the question 
 that had long been burning in her heart, 
 " what made him ask McCormick to ride 
 Terrapin when he loves him so? " 
 
 " I reckon he wanted him where he was 
 least likely to git hurt," said the foreman. 
 
 " What do you mean, Jimsey? " 
 190 
 
CATHERINE TAKES THE SADDLE 
 
 "Why, in a ambush like what they d 
 form at the river the first man ll stand the 
 best chaince o gittin through. The watch- 
 ers ll hold their fire till they re shore it ain t 
 a bait jest to locate em and allow em to be 
 flanked from another quarter, and by the 
 time the second man s in sight the first may 
 be purty near across. It s the second man 
 that s in most danger." 
 
 Catherine, faint and dizzy, dragged her 
 heavy feet up the stairs. She seemed very, 
 very tired. In her room she dropped to the 
 floor, because the bed was on the other side 
 of the apartment, and that was many, many 
 miles away. She was a girl of momentum. 
 Consciously or unconsciously she swept for 
 ward with all her strong, enthusiastic being, 
 and when dashed back, as now, she lay with 
 her wrecked forces like a drowning thing 
 under rolling waves. Her nature was of the 
 simplest kind, instead of the most complex, 
 as those who thought they knew her best sup 
 posed it to be. Right was right, and the eye 
 once on it there could be no other star. All 
 the hesitations, the mincing, picking steps, 
 the byways and underways of caution, pru- 
 
 191 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 dence and policy, were but things to laugh 
 at to this girl of moral momentum obeying 
 in veins and soul the law that in the physical 
 world sends a whirling body to its goal. 
 
 After an hour or two she began to move 
 a little. There was a silent house about her. 
 A horse neighed loudly from the stables. 
 She leaped to her feet as if the sound were 
 a signal for which she had waited. While 
 there seemed nothing to do she could not 
 move, but now all her strength rushed back 
 with a sudden resolve to act. She let herself 
 noiselessly out of the house, went to the 
 stables, and saddled her pony. There was a 
 light at her uncle s window; he was still at 
 his bag of papers. She led her horse gently 
 out of hearing, mounted, and sped over the 
 plain toward the Pecos. 
 
 192 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE UPPER FORD 
 
 THREE miles out Catherine struck the 
 road that led to the upper ford. Ten miles 
 more and the black line of the river bluff 
 stretched before her. A hundred yards from 
 the ford she halted and listened. There were 
 no sounds that might be made by horse or 
 man. It was all over, she told herself. It 
 had happened while she was playing the 
 piano and singing ballads to Dick Thorne. 
 
 She rode on toward the river, reproach 
 ing herself for feeling so safe. " How did 
 he feel?" she asked. Soon she could see 
 through the cut, down which the road sloped 
 to the river, and catch the glimmer of the 
 moon on the red water. " They were in 
 there," she said. She turned her horse at the 
 entrance to the cut, and rode up to the very 
 edge of the bluff, from which point she 
 gazed alternately at the rolling river, bright 
 
 193 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 under the stars, and the vast plains that 
 seemed everywhere. On what fragrant seas 
 the dying soul might drift out from that 
 place! She thought of the oaths that, per 
 haps, had mingled with the breath of the 
 river, and wondered as she shuddered if 
 somehow all had not been made sweet in 
 death. " It ll be a cold layout all around, I 
 guess, if they re in thar," McCormick had 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, the selfishness of a woman s heart! " 
 said Catherine. " While I thought the great 
 est danger was another s I could stay away, 
 and when I found it was his I came back." 
 
 She thought of the gentle lips and the 
 smile that transformed the cowboy of the 
 plains, eighteen hundred and ninety-three, to 
 a Galahad bending with divine assurance 
 over beauty in distress, while the forgotten 
 moon played her beams on a vanished world. 
 With most of us it is but a step from reality 
 to romance. With Catherine it was no step 
 at all. Each could be the other interchange 
 ably. She did not feel lonely or strange. 
 She belonged to the hour and the place, for 
 love the love that now she was proud to 
 
 194 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 acknowledge had brought her, and where 
 love leads is woman s way. 
 
 She returned to the entrance to the cut, 
 and pushed on to where the river lay, broad 
 and tranquil. She wondered if there was 
 blood in it, and whose? Her horse was 
 splashing the water, his hoofs striking against 
 the rock bed of the ford. The stream was 
 shallow, but very wide, and the horse moved 
 slow r ly over the uneven bottom. Midway she 
 seemed to have already come a long voyage, 
 and before her the dark opposite bluff seemed 
 bending to the shore of a sea. She sat stead 
 ily, but fancied she was swaying, and at last 
 on the opposite bank she slipped from her 
 horse and leaned her rocking head against 
 his shoulder until all was clear again. Then 
 mounting, she rode for a mile over the lonely 
 trail to the top of a gently climbing hill, and 
 looked out over the great plains again, calm 
 in the moonlight peace. 
 
 The road to the Berrys was clear. She 
 passed the Cross-S line without trouble, for 
 the cut pieces of wire fence which had been 
 stretched across the road were trailing on the 
 ground. The house which she presently saw 
 
 95 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ahead of her was small and unpainted, for its 
 owners had spent most of their money for the 
 land and cattle, intending to build more pre 
 tentiously when profits permitted. 
 
 "What will they think of me?" Cath 
 erine asked herself as she slowly neared the 
 house. " No matter. There is a lonely wom 
 an there whose boy the youngest one is 
 dead. I am going to her" 
 
 No light was seen through the carefully 
 blinded windows, but when Catherine dis 
 mounted and went softly to the door she 
 heard voices inside, and now and then a sob. 
 A haze came over her. What was she there 
 for? Was her strongest reason to be with the 
 old woman? Away with the lie! It was to 
 find out the names of the dead. The voices 
 cleared to one steady, soothing tone, and as 
 she recognized it she almost fainted on the 
 steps. 
 
 When Butternut saw Catherine ride away 
 with Thorne he wondered, and all through 
 the events of the evening he continued to 
 wonder. When he had seen her ride up with 
 a man who was patently of the same tribe as 
 herself, young, fairly good-looking, and un- 
 
 196 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 mistakably her lover, he had swallowed the 
 truth without a sign, as he would have swal 
 lowed hot coals and died had the perform 
 ance been an inevitable duty. But when in 
 the course of their talk he had discovered 
 that there was no soul in the eye of the man 
 when he looked at her, then had sorrow in 
 deed possessed him. If Kitty Cloud was of 
 a tribe with this man, what was to become 
 of the heaven he had built where she shone 
 the sole and single star? It was at his feet, 
 a tawdry, tinsel, make-believe glitter, and 
 there was only black void above. 
 
 " But she offered to go to the old woman," 
 he said, warming his dead idol in a glow of 
 love instantly put out by the recurring pic 
 ture of her riding away with Thorne. " She 
 even looked mad at me," he mused, des 
 perately, sorrowing for the world that might 
 have been had she chosen to smile. " I sup 
 pose they re all alike all the young ones. 
 They have to be mothers, like mine and poor 
 old Mrs. Berry, and love their children and 
 the fathers of them before they are fit to be 
 worshipped. We have to have our idols, and 
 when we can t find em, we make em, and 
 
 197 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 fool ourselves into thinkin God had the big 
 gest hand in it, and sit down and admire. 
 Now, if anybody had told me God didn t 
 make her, I would have sorrowed for his 
 ignorance; and all the time I was makin her 
 myself and revelin in my handiwork." 
 
 McCormick and his men had passed the 
 ford without a shot from ambush or a stir to 
 suggest a hidden enemy, and proceeded with 
 out molestation to bring the body of James 
 Berry home. Then the giant had led the 
 men in hot haste to lie in wait at the lower 
 ford for any invaders from the Cross-S, while 
 the Lambkin remained with Mrs. Berry in 
 case any of the Cattle Company s men should 
 descend from the upper road to fire the house. 
 
 All the while Butternut thought he was 
 putting Captain Kitty in his mind where 
 he might never find her, and now, when he 
 fancied the task about complete, he heard a 
 light knock at the door. 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 " Catherine Cloud," came faintly from 
 the other side, and he threw open the door 
 to his instantly resurrected idol. 
 
 "Bless me, Miss Cloud, you here!" he 
 198 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 said, drawing her to Mrs. Berry, who took 
 the trembling hand from his. " This is Miss 
 Cloud, Mrs. Berry, who has come to you be 
 cause she knew you were in trouble. She s 
 an angel." 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Berry, her dim old eyes 
 taking light from Catherine s young ones, 
 now glowing their brightest, " a good woman, 
 which is a sight more useful in this world 
 than angels, I reckon." 
 
 She clung to Catherine with a convulsive 
 comfort which showed how she had longed 
 for the touch of one of her sex. 
 
 " This is my boy, my dear," she said, turn 
 ing to the body of her son. " My baby. He 
 is still purty, you see. The only purty one 
 I had, though they re all good sons enough, 
 but Jimmie was always pettin me an makin 
 up for my lonesomeness an the ol friends I 
 left back in Kentucky. Yes, I reckon he 
 made a fool of his ol mother, an she was 
 proud of it. Oh, miss," she said, falling on 
 her knees, " I can stand it while he s lookin 
 purty like this he s not gone yet; but what ll 
 I do when he turns all dead an they take 
 him away from me?" 
 
 199 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 For answer Catherine rocked the sobbing 
 mother in her clasped arms, and mingled her 
 tears with her own, while she refrained from 
 the empty word-comfort which turns sorrow 
 to rebellion. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," said the old 
 woman at last, gently releasing herself, and 
 taking the chair by her son s body. " I m 
 just worryin you, you two young people. 
 T has done me good, though, an you won t 
 mind. Though you re so young, you can 
 understand a mother s feelin s. Some women 
 are born mothers, I say. Things may go 
 cross-ways, an they may never have chick nor 
 child o , their own, but they ve got more 
 mother-feelin an understandin than many 
 a woman with a full brood an extrys. An 
 you re one o them women, miss. I know d 
 it when you looked at me an looked at my 
 boy. Mr. Jones here, he s one of your kind, 
 too like a woman he s been to me this night 
 but I see you ve found that out for your 
 selves." She paused to look from one flushed 
 face to the other. " Well, there s happiness 
 ahead for you, for there s nothin in this 
 world makes the heart comfortable like find- 
 
 200 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 in our own kind. High an low, it s all the 
 same. Why, trouble trouble like this 
 would have a sort o sweetness an greatness 
 in it if Berry was kneelin here with me, be 
 cause we found each other out to the bottom, 
 an were of a kind all through cept in the 
 little outside ways that don t really count. 
 You don t know your own blessedness yet, 
 though you think you do ; but when your hairs 
 are white like mine, an a boy o yours lies 
 like this, you ll know, if you look into each 
 other s eyes then, what Mother Berry meant 
 about a love that takes sorrow clean out o 
 the world. There s mighty little o that sort 
 o love in the world, that s true, or there 
 wouldn t be so much weepin an wailin , an 
 that s why you ought to bless God night an 
 day for lettin you find each other out." 
 
 Catherine was now kneeling by the old 
 woman s chair, her head on her breast. But 
 ternut had involuntarily fallen to his knees 
 on the other side of Mrs. Berry, who reached 
 gently out and drew him to her until the 
 bright brown curls touched his forehead and 
 completed the spell that deprived him of his 
 senses. For twenty thousand years of bliss he 
 14 201 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 dreamed, then heavy steps approached, and, 
 instantly rational, he rose and opened the 
 door to the four Berrys, who entered led by 
 the eldest, dark-whiskered and grim. He 
 put a big arm around his mother. 
 
 " No more danger, little woman. It s all 
 right." Turning to Butternut, he said, " I 
 thank you. We ll watch now." And, in a 
 lower tone, " The cowards hev certainly 
 holed up. We kin rest till to-morrow." He 
 looked a question at Catherine, " If the lady 
 will accept a bed " 
 
 " I must return at once," she said. " My 
 aunt will be greatly frightened if I am 
 missed. But I will come back, Mrs. Berry." 
 
 " I will see you home, of course," said 
 Butternut, simply. 
 
 He took Mrs. Berry s hand, but she 
 dropped it and clung to his neck. " God 
 bless you, my boy, for your comfort to an 
 old woman this night." 
 
 He left the room a little ahead of Cath 
 erine, which gave him an instant to finally 
 clear his senses, and when she came out she 
 found the placid, the inscrutable cowboy. 
 
 " Here s your hawss, ma am, and here s 
 202 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 your steppin -block," he said, holding his 
 hand for her foot. 
 
 She accepted his chivalrous aid, and 
 started her horse off slowly. Butternut fum 
 bled with his saddle. He had a hard game 
 to play and a shaky hand. We all know that 
 we can get through any sort of crisis if we 
 are braced for it, but when it comes unex 
 pectedly we sometimes stagger through with 
 our surprised forces in a way that barely gets 
 us off with credit. That was what the Lamb 
 kin was afraid he would do to-night, as he 
 tried to steady himself. First he shook off 
 the last folds of the dream that had en 
 wrapped him for half an hour; then he 
 told himself that the graceful woman riding 
 ahead was Miss Cloud, who was engaged to 
 a Mr. Thorne from the city, and lastly he 
 repeated that he was Charley Jones, the mar 
 ried man. By neither word nor sign must he 
 show his love. 
 
 " Tell me about the ford," she said, as he 
 rode alongside, and in the language of the 
 plains he told her of the crossing, which 
 had turned out to be without hazard. But 
 through his careless speech and manner she 
 
 203 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 detected a certain restraint which gave her a 
 strange feeling of exultation. He was too 
 noble, she thought, to take advantage of the 
 opportunity poor Mrs. Berry had given him 
 too noble, perhaps, to ever use an oppor 
 tunity. But she was in no great haste in her 
 dream. The way was so delightful the way 
 to the perfect understanding that she knew 
 would come. She would gather fragrance 
 from every flowering minute, and she was so 
 sure of him that she laughed inwardly at his 
 lapse into deferential cowboy tones. 
 
 After a quarter of a mile of silence it was 
 a great relief to her to find a question which 
 need not appear forced. 
 
 "What will the Berrys do?" she asked. 
 
 " They ll go to Oklahoma, I guess. The 
 papers, you know, have been full o the open- 
 in o the Cherokee Strip on the sixteenth, 
 and they re figurin on * makin the ride. 
 
 "Making the ride?" 
 
 " Yes m, if they can get some good 
 hawses. Everybody, you see, will have to 
 run for their claims from the border-line, 
 and the best man will mean the quickest 
 hawss." 
 
 204 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 He thought it wiser not to add that he, 
 too, expected to " make the ride." 
 
 " But what will the Berrys do with their 
 place?" 
 
 " Oh, that! Mr. Ardell is comin down 
 to-morrow, and we ll probably persuade him 
 to buy it." 
 
 Unconsciously he had used Dick Thome s 
 word, but with what a different meaning! 
 She caught the ominous note in his speech. 
 
 " How will you do it? Won t it be dan 
 gerous? " 
 
 The Lambkin s voice seemed far away as 
 he replied: 
 
 " Not unless he s braver than the men he 
 employs." 
 
 The unclouding moon at this point drew 
 their attention to the landscape. They were 
 rounding the low mountain overlooking the 
 ford, and before them lay the sleeping val 
 ley, divided in half by the winding canon of 
 the Pecos. 
 
 " Isn t it weird?" said Catherine, almost 
 under her breath. " But I love it the great 
 plains, the fragrance, and the whispering 
 water!" 
 
 205 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 From the time they had left the Berrys 
 he had been struggling back to the real 
 world, the world that held a Dick Thorne 
 and a Whippoorwill, and now to save him 
 self he thought constantly of the hour he was 
 married how he had stood up, the single 
 witness, the slow words of the preacher. 
 Was he drunk then? Yes. Not alone on a 
 thoughtless glass, but on the charm of droop 
 ing black eyes, cheeks like a spring rose, lips 
 curved to enchant and seduce drunk with 
 the wine of blind desire. Yes, he was 
 drunker than the contents of any demijohn 
 ever made a man when he stood up and swore 
 to love, cherish, and honor the Whippoor 
 will of the Sable Serpent a vow he might 
 have held sacred, even in the face of the 
 Shuffler episode, but for a certain utter hope 
 lessness in the way she had laughed. And 
 now he was intoxicated again. He lost his 
 hold on memory his anchor was gone there 
 was nothing but the present, the dreaming, 
 silent plains, and the woman by his side. But 
 the next instant he was himself, with his 
 battle won. He laughed lightly as they rode 
 toward the river, then he told her a legend, 
 
 206 
 
THE UPPER FORD 
 
 and his voice was as smooth as the flowing 
 water. 
 
 " There s a funny epitaph over there on 
 the side o the mountain," he smiled, point 
 ing diagonally across the river. " Man bur 
 ied there is supposed to have written it him 
 self. He was a poor man, and he had a rich 
 brother whom he hated for no other reason 
 than that he was rich. And when the brother 
 died it made him mad to see him get a big 
 monument with the words Erected by lovin 
 friends on it. And just before his turn 
 came he said to his old wife, Betsy, John 
 got the best o me in this life, but I m blamed 
 if he ll git the biggest monument. Put me 
 at the foot of a mountain, and write on it 
 these words, " Erected by the Lord This 
 beats John." " 
 
 Thus lightly, half-humorously, he en 
 livened her journey, while the hand of recol 
 lection wrought misery on his heart. 
 
 " You left quite suddenly at the dance," 
 she said abruptly, and caught him unpre 
 pared. Or was he ever that? An instant he 
 seemed staggered, then: 
 
 " Suddenly! " he laughed. " So did Fid- 
 207 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 dlin Larry s hawss! Used as he is to a fiddle, 
 smoke me if he didn t take a fool notion to 
 break loose and hike out for home, and you 
 ought to ve seen Turtle Mose and me hoofin 
 it after him like a pair o jack-rabbits! 
 Why, that confounded hawss was worse n ten 
 wild Indians and was plumb to Devil s River 
 before we got him! " 
 
 Ghost of Munchausen! Instead of re 
 morse it brought a half-peace to his mind 
 as he saw that she had accepted this plausible 
 and unholy lie. 
 
 They crossed the river, and after what 
 seemed a long while to him they rounded 
 the foot of a hill, and the houses of her 
 uncle s ranch were at hand. 
 
 " We seem to be here," he said, " and 
 there s not an Indian or bear in sight. So 
 good night! " 
 
 He was gone in an instant, and she heard 
 his gay laugh as he rode away through the 
 moonlight, but now there was a note in it 
 a note of emptiness that chilled her soul. 
 
 208 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 CATHERINE, refreshed by three hours 
 rest, came down to breakfast blooming with 
 a radiance which communicated itself to the 
 rest of the party. Thorne viewed her trans 
 ported, Mrs. Collett chirped and nibbled 
 and smiled, Mr. Ramsgate beamed pater 
 nally, and all made a merry meal. Near its 
 close, happily for good appetites, Jimsey 
 came in, saying that a passing horseman had 
 brought news of the trouble the night be 
 fore, and that he presumed they would like 
 to hear how it came out, especially Miss 
 Kitty. 
 
 "Oh, I don t care," said Catherine; "I 
 know already." 
 
 "O-ho!" Mr. Ramsgate glared sus- 
 pectingly over his cup, while Thorne looked 
 his stupefaction. 
 
 209 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " I haven t seen the man," continued 
 Catherine, " but I can tell you all about it. 
 Nobody was hurt. The men passed over the 
 ford, and not a shot was fired." 
 
 " That s so," mumbled Jimsey. 
 
 " What s the girl talking about? " puz 
 zled her uncle. " None of your second-sight 
 visions around me! " 
 
 " It s just what the man said," stammered 
 Jimsey. 
 
 "How did you know, Catherine? " de 
 manded Mrs. Collett. 
 
 " Mr. Jones told me." 
 
 Jimsey leaned against the wall. 
 
 " Mr. That man! When did you see 
 him?" 
 
 " Last night or, rather, early this morn 
 ing." 
 
 " Catherine! What do you mean? " 
 
 " Oh, I went to the Berry house." 
 
 " And that Jones " 
 
 " Escorted me home." 
 
 " Bertha," said Mr. Ramsgate huskily, 
 " don t go into one of your fool fits now. 
 This is serious." 
 
 There was heavy silence. Catherine took 
 210 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 her last bite of toast. Jimsey discreetly fled. 
 Thome s usually stolid face was a study. She 
 had made him believe it was that dull, lum 
 bering giant, and it was Jones! Fragments 
 of his own praise came back to him " What 
 an eye ! What grace 1 Would fit anywhere ! " 
 
 " Now, Catherine/ said Mr. Ramsgate, 
 finally, in the level tones of a man holding 
 a pistol that he intends shall not miss fire, 
 " who is this Jones? " 
 
 " A young man who works at the Circle- 
 B," said Catherine, gently, preferring that 
 the weapon should not go off just then. 
 " Richard offered to go for me this morning, 
 but I didn t want to trouble a guest. Be 
 sides, I couldn t wait." 
 
 The senator roared: 
 
 "A farm-hand! A cow-puncher! A " 
 
 "Gentleman!" cried Catherine, in a 
 white blaze ; then, turning, she swept through 
 the open door and up the stairs to her room, 
 and John Ramsgate knew that for a time it 
 would be useless for his voice to follow her. 
 
 " John," began Mrs. Coliett, " you won t 
 be harsh- " 
 
 " My dear Bertha, please be quiet. The 
 211 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 confounded country has made a wild-cat out 
 of her." 
 
 Mr. Ramsgate rose and went out on the 
 porch for air, Thorne following him. While 
 Richard had no wish to appear hasty, he 
 thought it a good time to make his visit to 
 Ardell s, and after some moments of respect 
 ful silence mentioned the matter to his host. 
 
 " That s all right, Richard," waved the 
 senator, blandly. " Sorry to have involved 
 you in another family row, but it will blow 
 over in a day or two, and we ll be glad to 
 welcome you back. Want to try a horse? 
 Then get into your riding-clothes. Jimsey 
 will saddle up for you and show you the 
 road." 
 
 A few hours afterward Richard, on a 
 mettlesome steed, and having received minute 
 directions from the Twin Bar foreman, was 
 proceeding in a thoughtful mood toward the 
 Cross-S ranch. 
 
 Meanwhile Butternut had not slept, but 
 had returned to the Berry place by daylight, 
 for there was much to do before the after 
 noon train would drop Senator Ardell at 
 Comstock station. First there was the boy to 
 
 212 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 be buried. Then Thomas packed up a few 
 of his mother s belongings and drove with 
 her to the station. In the meantime Butter 
 nut and the other brothers drove to Lang- 
 try, the nearest banking town, visited a law 
 yer, and made an inquiry or so at the bank. 
 That done, they started for Comstock, and a 
 few miles from that point halted on a road 
 that led from the station to the Cross-S ranch. 
 Perhaps half an hour they had waited, when 
 a man drove up, evidently on his way to 
 meet Mr. Ardell. 
 
 " Coin for the senator, I suppose? " 
 " Yep," said the man. " You ain t hye rd 
 the whistle, hev you? I m a bit late." 
 
 " And you ll be later, I m afraid, my 
 friend," said Andrew Berry, as he and his 
 brothers seized the man and transferred him 
 to their own vehicle, Butternut taking his 
 place in the buggy. They then proceeded to 
 Comstock by a roundabout way, while the 
 Lambkin followed the road. Within a mile 
 or two of the station he saw, grazing at a 
 distance, an enormous, beautifully horned 
 creature, and at once there swept through 
 him an idea which not only pleased his pre- 
 213 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 vailing sense of humor, but promised a ready 
 escape from the embarrassment which might 
 otherwise follow his coming transaction with 
 the senator. When he reached the station, in 
 line with this plan, he was busy for a moment 
 at a rear wheel of the buggy. 
 
 The west-bound pulled up presently, and 
 from it stepped forth Mr. Ardell. He looked 
 about impatiently and met the glance of 
 Butternut. 
 
 "You for me?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "Where s the trap?" 
 
 " Round this side, sir," said the Lambkin, 
 most politely. 
 
 " Here, you! Take the bag." 
 
 An instant Butternut wondered whether 
 he would take the satchel or kick it, but re 
 membering his own interest in the contents, 
 he picked it up and placed it in the buggy. 
 Ardell jumped in and the Lambkin took the 
 reins. 
 
 " I drove over from Langtry when I was 
 down to look at the place." 
 
 "You don t know this road, then?" said 
 Butternut. 
 
 214 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 " No; but I should say the Cross-S is due 
 north." 
 
 " Part of it part of it, sir," explained 
 the Lambkin. " You see, you ve added a 
 mighty wide and long and ramblin stretch 
 since you took in your new additions." 
 
 The cowboy was scanning the landscape, 
 and suddenly seemed satisfied. He turned to 
 the senator questioningly: 
 
 " I can cut off two miles by spinnin across 
 the prairie here, sir, and comin out at the 
 Forks. Reckon you won t mind gettin a lit 
 tle sooner to your supper? " 
 
 " Snakes, no! That eating-house at Spof- 
 ford is a scandal to the road." And as But 
 ternut followed the " short cut " the senator 
 settled himself with satisfaction. 
 
 " That s a mighty nice little place o the 
 Berrys," remarked the Lambkin, after a due 
 interval. 
 
 This brought a keen look from Ardell, 
 who became more impressed with the sagac 
 ity of this man s face. It might not be be 
 neath his dignity to get a little information 
 from such a source. 
 
 215 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " I hope Dawson is settling that matter 
 all right." 
 
 " Well, it s been pretty quiet since your 
 telegram yesterday stopped the shootin . No 
 body else was hurt, and they buried the man 
 this mornin ." 
 
 " Eh? Somebody was killed, then?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; the youngest of the Berry 
 boys." 
 
 " Stark fools! Why don t they leave the 
 country instead of caperin round in the face 
 of fifty or sixty guns? " 
 
 " I reckon they want a little money to 
 leave on, Senator." 
 
 " They ll get none from me," said Ardell, 
 suddenly vicious, and casting a guarding eye 
 on the black bag, a look which made the 
 Lambkin s heart leap with exultation. There 
 was no doubt now in his mind that the money 
 was there! It was the custom of the ranch 
 men of that section to keep money on deposit 
 at the Langtry bank for the monthly payment 
 of their hands. Butternut had reasoned that 
 Ardell would bring with him not only suffi 
 cient funds to pay off his men for the pre- 
 216 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 ceding month, but a surplus to be deposited 
 at Langtry for future convenience. 
 
 " It s a plumb nice strip o land," said the 
 Lambkin, softly, with a furtive eye on the 
 plain to his left. " I thought maybe you d 
 conclude to take it." 
 
 " Don t want it! Let them sell where 
 they can ! Not a cent from me Good God ! 
 What s that brute?" 
 
 " Lord, where?" exclaimed Butternut, in 
 sympathetic alarm. 
 
 " On this side, man! Where are you 
 looking? " 
 
 Butternut turned and looked at Spartacus 
 as if it were the first time he had seen him 
 that afternoon. 
 
 " That s the king, for a fact," he said 
 leisurely, returning the gaze which the bull 
 was directing upon them at a distance of a 
 quarter of a mile. 
 
 " Never saw such an animal," breathed 
 the senator. " Must be a cross between a 
 buffalo and a steer." 
 
 " No, just a plain bull, but as fine a speci 
 men as any fancier ever clapped eyes on. 
 Want to round up and take a look? " 
 is 217 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 "Isn t he dangerous?" 
 
 " Well, folks mostly want to give him the 
 whole prairie; but there isn t a bit o danger 
 in him if you treat him respectfully. Best to 
 give him the road always, and it might not 
 be safe to meet him afoot here on his own 
 ground. But, generally speaking he s harm 
 less." 
 
 His strategic tone of assurance was not 
 lost on Ardell. 
 
 " Look here! That fellow could take this 
 trap on his horns if he was a mind to." 
 
 " Yes if he was a mind to." 
 
 " Say, cut back here and take the road." 
 
 " All right, sir." 
 
 Butternut made a very sharp turn; a hind 
 wheel flew off, and Ardell sprawled outside 
 the buggy. 
 
 "Thunderin Moses! What s hap 
 pened? " 
 
 " Fraid we ve lost a nut, sir," replied 
 Butternut, searching the ground and making 
 sure at the same time that the " nut" he had 
 carefully removed at the station was safe in 
 his pocket. 
 
 Ardell s rage was a wonder to see. 
 218 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 " What in almighty hell do you mean by 
 twisting about like that? " he cried, dancing 
 about the disabled vehicle. " Can t you 
 drive?" 
 
 " Yes," said the Lambkin, in his smooth 
 est voice, " I can drive, and do a few other 
 things. You d better keep quiet. I don t 
 mind your cuttin up, but you re becomin 
 a curiosity to the bull, and his attentions just 
 at this moment might not be agreeable. 
 
 Ardell turned pale, gave a wild glance at 
 the slowly circling and advancing bull, and 
 cursed the cowboy in a fearful tone. 
 
 " Just stop now, Senator, and let s get to 
 business. This accident affords me an op 
 portunity, and I calculate to make use of it. 
 Look at this paper, if you please." 
 
 He took the document, prepared by the 
 Langtry lawyer, from the bosom of his shirt. 
 
 " A clean deed to the Berry property. 
 You ll find it all right. What you ve got to 
 do, and do quick, is to take ten thousand 
 dollars from that bag and hand it over for 
 this deed." 
 
 "I see, you d d scoundrel! This is 
 
 your plot, is it? " 
 
 219 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 "Yes, it s my plot!" 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 " That isn t the question. I m not one of 
 your men that s enough." 
 
 "You idiot! Do you suppose I carry 
 money about with me so men like you can 
 help themselves? " 
 
 " I know you ve got considerably more 
 than I want right here in this satchel. Will 
 you open it? " 
 
 "Give it here!" shouted Ardell, snatch 
 ing his property. "What are you doing 
 now? " he roared, beginning to understand 
 Butternut s movements about the horse. 
 
 " Why," said the Lambkin, his eye on the 
 task of unhitching, " as long as you won t 
 trade, I m just goin to ride away. You don t 
 suppose I want to stay here all day with an 
 animal like that for company? " There was 
 great alarm in his face. 
 
 Ardell, who was unarmed, looked calcu- 
 latively at the cowboy, whose suppleness and 
 strength was revealed in every rounded limb. 
 No, he could not afford to make it a physical 
 matter. Besides, there dangled at the Lamb 
 kin s hip a weapon at least a foot long. 
 
 220 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 " I ll give you five thousand for the land 
 if you ll let me on that horse! " 
 
 " Couldn t think of it, sir; it s worth fif 
 teen," said Butternut, with another glance 
 toward Spartacus, who in his capable fashion 
 was pawing up the earth a hundred yards dis 
 tant. " By George! He is comin ! Good-by, 
 Senator!" 
 
 " Man alive, I ll be torn to pieces!" 
 
 " Maybe so. That s your business. If 
 you care to trade, I ll give you the hawss and 
 take my chances. You can make the thicket 
 yonder." He pointed to a tangle of mesquit 
 bushes at a low point in the valley. " It s 
 pretty full o briers, but they ll scarcely 
 scratch like the king s horns." 
 
 Ardell began to dance about and utter 
 oaths that ought to have shriveled the prairie 
 grass. The Lambkin suddenly covered him 
 with the ivory-handled Colt. 
 
 " If you think I m afraid to shoot, Sena 
 tor," he said smoothly, but with a steel in 
 his eye that to Ardell was colder than the 
 chill of death, " you re takin a long chance. 
 I consider you responsible for the murder 
 of Jim Berry it is known that your men 
 
 221 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 were acting under your orders and IVe no 
 Christian objection to helpin the law to do 
 its duty, sir, especially when it s inclined to 
 neglect it. The bull will be here in two min 
 utes; I ll give you one to make the trade and 
 take the hawss ! " 
 
 Ardell turned white as he looked at the 
 cowboy, green as he looked at the surely 
 approaching bull, then, opening the bag, 
 handed Butternut a package of bills labeled 
 "$io,ooo" in the manner of banks, and sprang 
 upon the horse, using the " tug " as a stirrup. 
 
 " You ll be hung in a month! " he roared. 
 
 The Lambkin handed him the deed, but 
 kept his hold on the bit. 
 
 " Oh, no, Senator; I m sure you ll con 
 clude to keep this matter quiet. You know, 
 in politics a man can t afford to figure ridicu 
 lous it s dead ruin and this scene might 
 strike some as a bit humorous. A senator 
 squattin in the chaparral, with a mad-eyed 
 bull switchin his tail forty yards off, 
 and " 
 
 " Let go, you scoundrel! " 
 
 "Wait a minute, Senator; you still have 
 a little time, and I wanted to say that if 
 
 222 
 
SENATOR MAKES A PURCHASE 
 
 you re thinkin of givin me trouble for this, 
 you d better go lightly. There s a man named 
 Rockwell runnin a paper in St. Joe who 
 made it hot for you once and is achin to do 
 it again. He d give a stack o money to know 
 of this little incident; but I promise not to 
 blow on you as long as you re not trouble 
 some. But there s a stronger reason why you 
 should keep still," concluded the Lambkin, 
 and again that steel in his eye which fas 
 cinated Ardell ; " you won t live long if you 
 don t!" 
 
 " Let go, let go!" screamed Ardell. 
 "The brute s coming!" 
 
 "The thicket, man, the thicket!" called 
 the cowboy, releasing his hold, and the sena 
 tor sped toward the brush-tangle, his coat- 
 tails and bag flapping the air wildly. Aban 
 doning the horse at the edge of the chaparral, 
 he vanished in the brush, while Spartacus, 
 who had probably meant no harm, being 
 more curious than displeased, approached 
 leisurely and, standing at a distance, directed 
 an inquiring gaze upon the thicket. 
 
 The Lambkin politely doffed his som 
 brero to the bull. 
 
 223 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Another royal turn youVe done me. 
 You re a gentleman, sir." 
 
 From the depths of the thicket came the 
 sounds of a man who seemed to be swearing 
 the bark off the bushes. 
 
 Butternut strode leisurely to the station, 
 where he found the Berrys waiting with the 
 Cross-S man, who stood meek and subservi 
 ent. The Lambkin gave him the missing 
 " nut," with full directions how to find the 
 senator. 
 
 A quarter of an hour later the east-bound 
 pulled out with Butternut, the Berrys, and 
 the ten thousand dollars. 
 
 " He ll telegraph and stop us at Spof- 
 ford," said Thomas Berry. 
 
 " Scarcely," said the Lambkin, as he sent 
 a calm eye over the galloping landscape. 
 " He s whipped, and knows it." 
 
 The future proved Butternut s conclusion 
 correct. Senator Ardell not only kept quiet 
 about the afternoon transaction, but his man 
 received a special offering from the black 
 bag to do the same. The prudent politician 
 had decided to buy the Berry place. 
 
 224 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 " NEVER A WORD OF LOVE! " 
 
 DICK THORNE was not specially wise, 
 but he understood from the signs which had 
 recently ruffled his horizon that if he desired 
 to progress in his suit it was time for him to 
 make a move, and that a telling step in the 
 right direction would be the early fulfilment 
 of his promise to Catherine to influence 
 Senator Ardell to proper behavior. He was 
 keenly disappointed, therefore, on broaching 
 the subject that night at the Cross-S, to have 
 the senator reply that he had already met an 
 agent of the Berrys at the station and had 
 promised to negotiate. Everything would be 
 settled the next day at Langtry. 
 
 " I should have advised it, sir," said 
 Thorne, " were I old enough to speak to a 
 man of your judgment. If I can attend to 
 the matter at Langtry " 
 
 " Not at all that is, thank you, but every- 
 225 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 thing s about settled, and there ll be little to 
 do. How s old Ramsgate? Down here just 
 now, I believe." Ardell, being ten years Mr. 
 Ramsgate s senior, always alluded to him as 
 old. " You and the girl have fixed things up, 
 I hope. She s worth the trouble, my boy. 
 Saw her at a ball once in St. Joe, and, by 
 George! the rest of the women winked out 
 like candles in a sixty-volt light. Blest if she 
 didn t make me wish I was twenty-two instead 
 of fifty-two. I d have given you young squir 
 rels a race." 
 
 " Fifty-two? " Thorne mildly interjected 
 his surprise, knowing Ardell to be sixty-five. 
 " No, no, Senator." 
 
 " Yes, my dear young chap fifty-two 
 every day of it! Well, when is it coming off? 
 You ll let an old fellow into the fun, won t 
 you?" 
 
 Thorne flushed as he said: 
 
 " There s a little hitch at present, Senator, 
 but I think the weather will clear." 
 
 He had no idea of abandoning his suit. 
 Never had Catherine seemed so beautiful and 
 so necessary to him. Her interest in this man 
 Jones was surely nothing more than an idle 
 
 226 
 
"NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" 
 
 inclination. An early day would find his 
 prospects unclouded. 
 
 Over at Twin Bar matters had about set 
 tled to a state of paralytic comfort. Mr. 
 Ramsgate had despatched messengers cancel 
 ing a few engagements, while he made some 
 inquiries. He was by no means as near a 
 state of collapse as his ambitious sister, and 
 learning that Butternut was a man of edu 
 cation, had told Aunt Bertha firmly that, 
 while he was a politician to the core, he d be 
 tarred and feathered if he d make a political 
 matter of his niece s love affairs, and that 
 " By gad, Bertha, so long as he s got character, 
 
 she can marry whoever she d d pleases! " 
 
 Still he was hopeful that she would prefer 
 Thorne, while Mrs. Collett, pathetically help 
 less, could only look on and wait for the 
 heavens to open and cast a random bolt in her 
 favor. As for Catherine, she roamed in a 
 world of dream so entirely and unmistakably 
 happy that even Jimsey began to have his 
 doubts and wondered if Butternut was " wu th 
 all that now." He would have rushed over 
 to Circle-B to congratulate his friend, but 
 now that the Lambkin s road seemed fairly 
 
 227 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 clear he was a little shy about treading holy 
 ground. 
 
 In the evening, a few weeks later, Cath 
 erine was riding home from the post-office 
 when she was overtaken by a gentleman on 
 horseback. 
 
 " A wonderful twilight," he said softly, 
 for she was absorbed in following the van 
 ished sun into the west. 
 
 "That from you, Richard! I am sur 
 prised. You are surely not turning poeti 
 cal?" 
 
 " Not poetical, but desperate. It s so con 
 founded lonesome down here that you ve got 
 to take an interest in something or dry up. 
 So, in the absence of anything else, I ve taken 
 to twilight." 
 
 She laughed right merrily, which made 
 him feel comfortable by bringing him a cer 
 tain amount of confidence. There wasn t 
 much in this Jones escapade, after all! She 
 had merely gone to the comfort of the old 
 woman, and what could be more natural than 
 that one of the cowboys should have accom 
 panied her home? 
 
 "Did you see Mr. Ardell?" Catherine 
 228 
 
"NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" 
 
 asked, having nothing of more interest on her 
 tongue. 
 
 " Yes, but it was a fool s errand, as far 
 as our anxiety for the Berrys was concerned. 
 He bought their place the very day I went 
 over. Your friend Jones seems to have been 
 a trifle mistaken in him." 
 
 He bent a little nearer, and naturally con 
 nected her smile with his last remark, which 
 pleased him. He could not know that she 
 was thinking of the Lambkin s significant 
 words: u We ll probably persuade him to buy 
 it." Verily had he been a wise prophet. 
 
 " I say, Kit," said Thorne, cheerfully 
 pleading, " when are you going to get out of 
 this? Are you never coming back to the 
 city? Do you know it s September, and that 
 the season will soon be wide open? You 
 haven t forgot the hops at the Fairchilds , the 
 suppers at Le Clede s, nor the frisky Mrs. 
 Travers with the freckles and giggle? My, 
 but don t she lead old Travers a pace! His 
 jealousy s worse than a comic opera, but I m 
 blowed if I d want her flirting with me! 
 You re not forgetting the old life, Kit? " 
 
 She could only look in pity at this man 
 229 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 whom money had spoiled. Her experience 
 of the life he described was narrowed to a 
 few desolate days, but he made it his world. 
 Not an unprepossessing fellow, either, was 
 Dick Thorne. 
 
 " Don t you think the twilight is better, 
 Richard? " she asked. 
 
 Then he began to understand, and to 
 curse himself for having forgotten the art of 
 tact. For the rest of the way he adapted his 
 discourse to the soft demands of the surround 
 ings and a maiden who might be in love, and 
 he did it so successfully that by the time they 
 reached Twin Bar she thought better of him. 
 
 Mr. Ramsgate found such a satisfaction 
 in the arrival of his niece with Thorne that 
 he welcomed that gentleman much as a father 
 might welcome a favored son, while Mrs. 
 Collett s manner was pathetically fervent. 
 Catherine was again their beloved niece, 
 set on a pinnacle of affection. After supper 
 Mr. Ramsgate was obliged to get rid of some 
 of his gaiety by a demonstration. 
 
 " Let s go over to Jimsey s quarters and 
 see the frolic," he said. 
 
 Some of the cowboys were to start on the 
 230 
 
"NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" 
 
 round-up to-morrow, and were having a sort 
 of preliminary " blow-out," which was also 
 in honor of some friends who had happened 
 in from the up-country. All the hands and 
 servants had been invited to " step in if they 
 felt feverish." Catherine was quite ready to 
 help along the fun, and Thorne preferred it 
 to conversation, for his role of discreet friend 
 was hard to keep up, and he was every mo 
 ment perilously near a second fall. 
 
 Things were very gay at Jimsey s. One 
 of the hands had tuned up an old fiddle and 
 was sawing ecstatically, while Buckboard 
 Sam executed a jig with astounding vigor 
 and wonderful suppleness. Little Jimsey 
 imitated him in the rear, to the delight of his 
 admiring parents, and from all quarters ap 
 probation sounded. There was one guest, 
 Reddy Turns, from the Allobar country, who 
 had evidently been too liberally supplied 
 with " fire drops," for Jimsey made fruitless 
 efforts to quiet him down to the pitch of de 
 corum supposed to be due in the presence of 
 the family from " the house." This noisy 
 reveler grew silent a moment watching Cath 
 erine, who was in the midst of a game, while 
 
 231 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 she looked the incarnation of youth and joy. 
 Then he broke out, determined to be heard: 
 
 " I say, I know a lady when I see her! " 
 He jerked his head toward Catherine with 
 an energy that would have toppled him to 
 the floor but for the timely help of a neighbor. 
 
 "Stand up here!" whispered the neigh 
 bor, " and screw your durned mouth shet! 
 Don t ye see " 
 
 " Yes-sir-, I do see! I see the purtiest 
 lady thet I ever set eyes on ceptin one, an 
 she wa n t no lady! Whip will, she was. 
 Ever hye rd o her? Bust my guns if she 
 wasn t a peach! You ought to a seen her 
 the night she stood up with the Butternut an 
 got married! I had a hand in thet little 
 biz ness as neat a biz ness as ye ever saw 
 done!" 
 
 "Shet up, you rascal!" shouted Jimsey, 
 " and don t tell lies on your betters! " 
 
 This blunder of Jimsey s opened every 
 ear in the room to the drunken cowboy s 
 story. 
 
 "Betters, says he! Betters! Hear him, 
 gem en! Butternut Jones my betters! We 
 was pards, I tell ye, over t the Sable Serpent, 
 
 232 
 
"NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" 
 
 an if ye come with me over t the Circle-B 
 ye ll find out if he s my betters! He ll know 
 me, he will! Reckon there wa n t no wed- 
 din , eh? Reckon the Whip will didn t rope 
 him slicker n Lariat Bill ever roped a mus 
 tang? Had a preacher all honest, an a Bible 
 in his hand, an My dearly beloved, says 
 he, an had em tied in a minute till the devil 
 couldn t bite the knot! The Butternut an 
 the Whip will! By gracious, but she was 
 purty that night, an the Shuffler, he so mad 
 he could a bit nails till the Whip will told 
 him marriage needn t make no difference in 
 ther relations, an the Butternut, he " 
 
 Here Jimsey took the narrator by the 
 throat and backed him into a side room, 
 where a muffled altercation ensued. Then 
 Reddy seemed to be loose, and was heard to 
 shout, " Shoot me dead if I ain t tellin the 
 livin truth! " Catherine looked cold as lead, 
 and was certainly shivering. 
 
 " Let us go, my love," said Mrs. Collett. 
 " It is rougher than we expected." 
 
 Back in the sitting-room Catherine s face 
 was a white mask. 
 
 " She has a chill," cried Mrs. Collett; " I 
 IG 233 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 must get a hot tea. John, I want to speak to 
 you," she called frantically, flying out. 
 
 " What a terrible lie! " said Catherine, as 
 her uncle followed her aunt, appealing to 
 Thorne with a look that set him glowing. 
 She was turning to him, the old friend, for 
 hope in her despair. Such suffering would 
 have softened him, for she was a moan of pain 
 from head to foot; but the thought that it 
 was for another man made his pity pitiless. 
 
 " Catherine," he said, taking her hand, 
 which she at once withdrew. He was a little 
 pale, for he felt that it was his critical mo 
 ment. Now, above all times, must he con 
 duct himself with tact. " I will go to him 
 to-night; I will learn the truth from him " 
 
 " Not to-night," said a slow voice. " You 
 won t find him to-night." 
 
 At the window behind him, which opened 
 on the veranda, stood Slow Mose, or the 
 " Turtle," from the Circle-B, a cowboy in 
 movement so habitually slow as to impart to 
 him always a ludicrous air of profundity. 
 Accident had given this man a vicious right 
 eye, the kick of a colt having scarred the 
 brow into an expression of menace, which, 
 
 234 
 
" NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" 
 
 however, the rest of his affable face belied. 
 After trying a whirl at Jimsey s and assisting 
 the foreman in quieting the noisy citizen from 
 Allobar, he had followed Captain Kitty to 
 the house, for he had a message for her. 
 
 " Butternut Jones ain t been hye rd of fer 
 five days, ma am. He s quit the country 
 clean, an the only word he left as I knows 
 of was to bring his dawg to you. Do ye 
 want him inside, ma am? I ve got him tied." 
 
 He was gone. Damning corroboration! 
 
 " Go away!" cried Catherine, and the 
 Turtle vanished. 
 
 " A lie! A terrible lie! " she repeated. 
 
 " I will go to that place," said Thorne. 
 " The man will tell me the way, or, if he 
 won t, I will find it, and whatever the truth 
 I will bring it to you." 
 
 He bowed with great gallantry, but she 
 was too chilled to notice him. For now there 
 had gone cold to her pulseless heart the 
 thought that while she had known instinc 
 tively that a certain man had loved her, the 
 knowledge was wholly instinctive. Through 
 all their hours together he had talked of 
 mountains and rivers and books, and had told 
 
 235 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 her many a quaint and humorous legend, but 
 never by word or gesture had he spoken of 
 love. His lane of opportunity had been wide, 
 but from end to end had he kept a silent, 
 sleepless guard upon his lips and this was 
 why. Men sometimes do not ask the women 
 they love to marry them, but it is from pride, 
 never from humility the fear to risk a fall, 
 not the fear that they deserve one. Butter 
 nut had been neither proud nor humble. He 
 had been speechless before the impossible. 
 
 Catherine went wearily to her room, and 
 received her aunt s ministrations in bed. 
 Even Mrs. Collett was awed into unselfish 
 ness by the sight of her niece s face, and Cath 
 erine felt that after all her aunt had been 
 right that she would have saved her. So 
 their good-night speech was the sincerest they 
 had known for some time. 
 
 " Tell uncle good night," said Catherine, 
 in a tone that meant utter capitulation to the 
 world as she found it utter letting go of the 
 world as she dreamed it. Then, left alone, 
 her thoughts played havoc with her throb 
 bing head until mental exhaustion at last 
 brought relief in blessed unconsciousness. 
 
 236 
 
"NEVER A WORD OF LOVE!" 
 
 Dick Thorne found it unnecessary to visit 
 the preacher of Whitewater. Jimsey, long 
 before the gentleman of fashion had finished 
 his breakfast, had completed half the jour 
 ney, and the man from Allobar was with 
 him. The miserable foreman, as he rode, 
 could only lift his voice in a kind of wail, 
 " Lambkin, Lambkin, you wasn t such a 
 fool!" 
 
 But when he returned, late in the after 
 noon, the sight of his drawn face left all 
 speech superfluous. Catherine, putting her 
 hands to her burning cheeks, fled to her room, 
 where for a time, as she tried to understand, 
 she could get no further than a dumb stare 
 into the impenetrable wall of fact she had 
 loved a man and he was married. But was 
 that all? No. She might have endured that, 
 but the destruction of her ideal denied her 
 even the blessed balm of forgiving Butternut. 
 Gladly, gratefully would she have done so 
 had he merely married a wicked woman 
 men frequently do that but a dance-hall 
 favorite! a bar-room wench! 
 
 Was it unnatural that Catherine, after 
 many aching days, should grow a little hard- 
 
 237 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ened and strive to put her dreams behind 
 her? Was it not also to be expected that she 
 should turn to the person who, being near 
 est her kind at this time, could most interest 
 her the old friend of other days Dick 
 Thorne? and that he, with the tact of a man 
 of the world, should keep his interests in the 
 background and express nothing by gesture 
 or tongue save sympathy? 
 
 Regardless of our woes we are obliged to 
 live, and with youth especially is it a sorry 
 game to live alone. 
 
 238 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 OKLAHOMA 
 
 SEPTEMBER FIFTEENTH, Ninety-three 
 Oklahoma! 
 
 Again, after a sleep of four years, had 
 the magic word flown broadcast to every 
 quarter and encamped an army of maniacs 
 on the borders of the enchanted land. The 
 Cherokee Strip on the morrow would be 
 open for settlement, its choicest acres as free 
 as air to the man or woman who could get 
 them first. 
 
 Billy, the tenderfoot, spent the night kick 
 ing at his blankets. With their diabolical 
 folds some part of his body seemed always 
 at war. At intervals his hand explored the 
 ground to remove a lump of wondrous size 
 driven indelicately into his person, but gen 
 erally his woes were with the blankets. They 
 behaved always in the manner of assailants. 
 They smothered him in clammy embrace, 
 
 239 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 which is the way of all bedding on a sultry 
 night, and the rain of other days had be 
 queathed to them the smell of old leather. 
 
 However, his chief cause for unrest bore 
 from another quarter. From the level above 
 him, back of the creek woods, signs of high 
 excitement reached him in a volley of de 
 moniacal sound. Cries deep and mighty, to 
 the chorus of battering hoofs, had for hours 
 sawed the night; there throbbed on the 
 plain a wild, hoarse throng whose voice had 
 the composite quality of a clamor, a roar, and 
 a chant. Born at a point miles distant, it 
 swept nearer with speed, and, climbing in 
 volume, smote the timber in a long, scream 
 ing crash. 
 
 The resolute grumble of the road-wagons 
 was first in prominence, and might have been 
 heard across the breadth of the " divide," 
 while the shrill stock-whips spoke blatantly 
 and trace-chains jangled in strong under 
 song. Frequently in the distance occurred a 
 collision, with the noise of bones a-tumble, 
 followed by a stream of miraculous oaths, 
 and the tenderfoot gathered that teamsters 
 were abusing each other in the dark. One 
 
 240 
 
OKLAHOMA 
 
 man, riding at a gallop by the edge of the 
 canon, made malicious reference to another 
 man. A shambling wagon at periods, shriek 
 ing insanely, proclaimed that it suffered for 
 grease, and between the voicings of its com 
 plaint droned a softer crinking noise, the 
 whip-whish sound of leather on leather. On 
 occasion, too, could be discerned the rhyth 
 mic step of a trained column marching, and 
 the whisper of shifting musketry, blended 
 with bugle-like commands; and as these 
 sounds were wrought upon the night, con 
 tinually drummed the hoof-chorus. 
 
 The air bore the smell of a crowd at a 
 circus. The dust of the plain rose lazily, 
 bellying, as smoke bellies over a town of 
 many mills, and at every point the chief 
 thing to be felt was a quivering, vibrant beat 
 ing, the resonant pulse of an uproar. 
 
 The tenderfoot, lost in the shadows, strove 
 laboriously to distinguish objects, but the 
 gloom of the canon was around him and dis 
 cernment halted at the elbow. Across the 
 stream a flimsy, pale border marked the sky 
 line, above which the tops of the creek woods 
 groped in mystery at the clouds. These trees 
 
 241 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 were so fantastic in shape that he whiled the 
 time in ascribing to them various fanciful 
 identities. Ghosts of childhood giants they 
 might be, castles of romance, or crags and 
 peaks of legends, and finally it was probable 
 that they were merely the vaporing dust curl 
 ing up from the plain. 
 
 Ultimately, across the divide, came the 
 dawn curtainwise, and flung a violet light 
 over the landscape. At once the mysterious 
 cloaked objects of the canon began to intro 
 duce themselves. Trees loomed gray, like 
 steeples in a fog. Two horses, tethered in 
 the shrubbery close at hand, sidled like shad 
 ows into view. 
 
 The tenderfoot, rising with caution on an 
 elbow, yawned prodigiously from extreme 
 weariness. His inexperience at this sort of 
 thing made him feel as if he had been hung 
 on a fence or had lain for weeks on a wood 
 pile. Standing and stretching to the limits 
 of his frame, he began the day by remarking 
 jocularly to the world: 
 
 " I feel like a skeleton in reduced circum 
 stances." 
 
 His gaze swept with malice a curious 
 242 
 
OKLAHOMA 
 
 jumble of blankets and humanity which 
 lay by him in a wonderful sprawl, and from 
 the depths of which a gentle and regular 
 breathing rose comfortably. He seemed to 
 take this evidence of tranquillity as little short 
 of an insult. 
 
 " Sleepin like the angels. Hi, you! Get 
 up! " 
 
 There was a labored movement of the 
 jumble, and as the tenderfoot swung an im 
 pending boot there gathered a shape which 
 rose specter-like. It evolved swiftly into a 
 tall, elastic youth, of fine-cut features and 
 slender of limb, but withal a certain fulness 
 of figure that averted any conclusion of fra- 
 gileness. His pantaloons were of corduroy, 
 blousing at the boot-tops and encircled at the 
 waist by a leathern belt on which appeared 
 a number of Indian designs in colored beads 
 and threads, and at his soft shirt-collar there 
 dangled in a loose knot a clean polka-dot tie. 
 
 After a quick glance from left to right he 
 turned an eye of reproach on his companion, 
 and spoke in a quiet drawl : 
 
 " You are makin a lot o noise, William. 
 Is it a stampede, or a storm? " 
 
 243 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 The tenderfoot seemed to gather addi 
 tional offense from these words, and accord 
 ingly descended upon him with a whoop of 
 challenge, whereat it appeared that the other 
 was in no way to he surprised, for he retained 
 his balance with amazing ease and dexter 
 ously enfolded his assailant. 
 
 " Jones, can you see the creek? " 
 " William, my eyes are good." 
 " Well, I m goin to put you in." 
 "You don t say!" 
 
 There followed a terrific lifting of the 
 gravel, the crashing of sticks and brush from 
 the havoc of their heels. Winding warily, 
 with numerous twists, wrenches, and whirls, 
 they steered about, each with the other en 
 circled, until often as they wheeled the pivot 
 was a single limb. One had been famous at 
 Cambridge for his way of conveying an in 
 flated ball through a wall of armored muscle, 
 but the other had followed bulls over plain 
 and through chaparral in all kinds of weath 
 er. The tenderfoot knew many tricks of the 
 college game, and he tried them here, but it 
 was useless. His slim adversary had the 
 curves of a weasel and was quite as slippery. 
 
 244 
 
OKLAHOMA 
 
 Presently in one spot the wrestlers became 
 established, as rigid as trees. In no direction, 
 and by no maneuver, it seemed, could either 
 be impelled from his ground; but finally, 
 after some moments of this tension, the ten 
 derfoot, with the other s forearm like a stone 
 under his chin and a steel-like pressure on 
 his spine, was forced slowly and gently upon 
 his back. 
 
 The Lambkin, at once breaking away, 
 made a gesture in which he feigned a wide 
 measure of contempt. 
 
 " Now, if I were a suckling ca af, say two 
 days old, with wobbly legs, and a stiff wind 
 was in your favor, you might stand a show. 
 You re young yet, William. You oughtn t 
 have ventured West till you were grown up." 
 
 He wheeled blithely and strode along the 
 stream toward the horses. They whinnied 
 gleefully on his approach. One of them he 
 smote admiringly in the flank, vowing that 
 he was a spanking steed, and the animal in 
 acknowledgment bit playfully at his shoul 
 der. Gathering their halters in hand, he 
 went between them to the creek, and stood 
 whistling while they drank. 
 
 245 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Meanwhile the tenderfoot was exploring 
 the depths of a pair of provision bags which 
 swung from a convenient sapling. A rectan 
 gular chunk of raw bacon he first brought to 
 light, viewing it dubiously at arm s length 
 and mentally numbering its future days. A 
 loaf of camp bread, of doubtful complexion 
 and hard as a gourd, he next resurrected, 
 weighing this also at a distance, with a casual 
 tribute to its suitability for other purposes. 
 He then gathered some dead branches, and 
 with the aid of a newspaper started a blaze, 
 after which, filling the coffee-pail with water 
 from the creek, he resolutely armed him 
 self with a frying-pan. From time to time 
 during these proceedings he paused to cast 
 an uneasy eye toward the sounds upon the 
 plain. 
 
 The Lambkin returned to camp whistling 
 a melancholy air which he could not exactly 
 recall. His gait was loose and unintentional. 
 He had the confident swagger of a person in 
 his own township. Halting by the breakfast 
 fire, his head aslant and eyes asquint to evade 
 the smoke, he viewed approvingly the savory 
 preparations. The tenderfoot, flushed and 
 
 246 
 
OKLAHOMA 
 
 ravenous, was forking the meat brown side 
 skyward. 
 
 " William," said the Lambkin, admiring 
 ly, " you make a reasonably fair cook. Salt 
 me if you re not handier at flippin bacon 
 than at wrestlin ." 
 
 Billy, while he had faith in his power to 
 come off resplendent in a second bout, dis 
 dained the challenge. It may be that the 
 approaching repast, which he regarded as 
 more or less of a concoction, was something 
 he was anxious to dispose of. Presently set 
 ting the sizzling frying-pan to one side, he 
 remarked with great gravity that breakfast 
 was now ready in the dining-car. They at 
 once laid violent hands on the victuals, and 
 as they breakfasted and their conversation 
 flowed, it was plain that theirs was not a pass 
 ing acquaintance. 
 
 Down at Fort Worth they had met casu 
 ally, the West and the East. Later, by Guth- 
 rie, West had guided East in the purchase 
 of a horse. Billy had early confided to his 
 guide that he had but a hundred and fifty 
 dollars, and asked the best way to invest it, 
 whereupon the Lambkin, after a little figur- 
 
 247 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ing, had advised him to put a hundred and 
 forty-five of it in a horse. 
 
 " Ponies are cheap," said Billy. 
 
 " But hawses are high, William. You 
 want a steed that can run. A Kentucky racer 
 or a thoroughbred from Ohio won t be any 
 too swift for you, I reckon. They ve got em 
 here by the car-loads, to rent or buy." 
 
 In securing Billy a steed, as well as one 
 for his own use, Butternut had been both 
 fortunate and wise. He had become a fair 
 judge of horses, and in addition to this knowl 
 edge, among the dealers at the market had 
 run upon a burly man he had known in 
 Texas, and who greeted him with love in 
 his eye. 
 
 " Lambkin, you re the one person in the 
 world I wouldn t swindle to-day. Here s old 
 Roan Rebel, one o the fastest nags that ever 
 wore a girth, an that sorrel with a bald face 
 is his cousin. I ll lend em to you fer fifty 
 apiece, an if ye let anything pass you, skin 
 me if I don t hev ye shot." 
 
 So instead of buying second-rate steeds 
 with their limited funds, they had hired ani 
 mals of quality; and thus, properly mounted, 
 
 248 
 
OKLAHOMA 
 
 Billy and his guide had journeyed to the 
 border-line. 
 
 " We ll run for what s goin to be the 
 town of Perry, William," the Lambkin had 
 advised, " only ten miles from the line. It s 
 the county-seat, and if we land anywhere close 
 to the town, I reckon we ought to be rich in 
 a year." 
 
 By the time they had now finished their 
 repast the sun had lifted on the plain, and 
 the tops of the trees in the hollow were tinc 
 tured with the hue of pale orange. A small 
 leaf, fluttering occasionally in the foliage, 
 shone with the glitter of new metal. 
 
 Suddenly Billy, bending intently nearer 
 the Lambkin, referred to the question of 
 highest importance to their minds: 
 
 " I say, Jones, when s she goin to come 
 off?" 
 
 Apparently the allusion was to something 
 which was going to happen on the plain, for 
 Butternut s throat swelled with feeling as his 
 quick glance upward studied keenly the sum 
 mit of the bank. To the clangorous din on 
 the plain there had been no interruption. 
 With insane persistence the voices of the wild 
 17 249 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 tongues clashed on the air unceasing in 
 formation of the presence of a throng. Once 
 there was a lull as a number of factors in the 
 tumult paused in miraculous unison, but the 
 half-silence seemed a thing more tremendous 
 than the highest point of the clamor. Wag 
 ons, their axles grinding, continued to screech 
 expostulation. High on the morning air the 
 vibrant note of the trace-chains jangled al 
 ways like a song. 
 
 250, 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE LONG, GRIM LINE 
 
 SAID the Lambkin, as he gestured care 
 lessly toward the uproar: 
 
 " Twelve o clock, William, is when the 
 entertainment s due to begin, and I m think- 
 in we ll be fully informed o the hour. 
 There ll be quite a lively little rumpus, I 
 judge." 
 
 It was a way of the Lambkin to put all 
 things modestly. 
 
 Their preparations told of coming great 
 action. While Billy gathered and returned 
 to the bags the breakfast hardware, the Lamb 
 kin again swung along the bank, and pres 
 ently brought the horses into camp. With 
 a dexterity and ease bespeaking long prac 
 tise he buckled the blankets into rolls and 
 girded upon each animal a saddle and pack. 
 To each of his boot-heels he then fastened a 
 steel-plated spur, polished and glittering, and 
 
 251 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 finally from a branch above him dislodged a 
 lopping white sombrero which, adjusted, left 
 him complete. From scalp to heels he was a 
 cowboy. As for Billy, while he had contrived 
 to provide himself with spurs, there was little 
 else about him in keeping with his comrade. 
 The Lambkin, however, regarded him always 
 with a show of pride. 
 
 Taking each a bridle, they preceded their 
 steeds up the slanting bank, a winding cow- 
 path guiding them to the summit. Immedi 
 ately they found themselves at one end of a 
 column of horses and wagons which stretched 
 off to the west interminably. A low hill 
 stood at the distance of a mile and a taller 
 one appeared beyond, yet over the crest of 
 each appeared a receding section of this line. 
 Clearly it had but one end. 
 
 The tenderfoot cast an amazed eye along 
 the heads of the horses, straight and even as 
 a line of prize cavalry on review. The 
 sounds of high uproar which had reached 
 him through the night had not prepared him 
 for so orderly a spectacle. However, he 
 was looking only at the front of the column. 
 The southward side or rear presented a scene 
 
 252 
 
THE LONG, GRIM LINE 
 
 to be contemplated with distended jaw a 
 panorama of confusion, screaming, chaotic 
 a bawling sea of barbarians wild with one 
 desire; a commotion gigantic that seemed to 
 be drowning the world with noise. In all 
 directions steered vehicles in careening, reck 
 less fashion, with no law as to movement, but 
 with the behavior of straws in a gale. Horse 
 men wheeling riotously in circles met horse 
 men who sped in direct lines, and there was 
 trouble. Yells were everywhere, and at times 
 the plain might have trembled. The short 
 autumn grass, hammered to shreds by the 
 hoofs and beaten into the earth, left free the 
 dust which rose in banks. A cavalcade of 
 cowboys appeared where it was thickest, their 
 leader singing, while lean-faced women 
 peered at them from the depths of the rest 
 less wagons. 
 
 A man on a saffron mule went amid the 
 throng shouting. Dust lay in stripes on his 
 face. He wore a drab linen ulster and with 
 an enormous figured handkerchief occasion 
 ally sponged his brow. He was an elderly 
 man, with a little, sharp chin, and of insig 
 nificant stature, but his mule was something 
 
 253 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 colossal, and, bearing him on high through 
 the crowd, invested him with a prominence 
 he could have never otherwise attained. He 
 shouted always in a blaring voice of tin, while 
 he rode nonchalantly here and there with a 
 simple anxiety to be where the commotion 
 was greatest. In these proceedings he had 
 the idle, pleasurable interest of a man at a 
 country fair. 
 
 On every hand were to be seen all types 
 of men. At the back of the line a company 
 of blue infantry at rest on a knoll viewed the 
 tumult with languor. To Billy their pres 
 ence explained the martial sounds he had dis 
 tinguished at periods of the night, though it 
 was now plain that they found little of in 
 terest in the doings of this mad throng. Their 
 part in the day s arrangements having ceased 
 with the orderly formation of the long for 
 ward line in which they had been assisted 
 by cavalrymen in front their present busi 
 ness was merely to await the time when 
 chance emergency might bring them into 
 action. Accordingly on the knoll they oc 
 cupied idle positions and joked at the mul 
 titude. 
 
 254 
 
THE LONG, GRIM LINE 
 
 Behind them, on the crest of the hill, stood 
 a bent and bearded man in deerskins and moc 
 casins. A disconsolate hound whined at his 
 feet. Occasionally, in a dry, mirthless way, 
 the exiled trapper would join in the laugh of 
 the blue soldiers, then, looking again at the 
 yelling crowd, would remark to the hound 
 that this was a great day. A vagabond Indi 
 an, in the castaway pantaloons of an infantry 
 man and bearing a pipe shaped like a toma 
 hawk, made periodical quests for tobacco. A 
 gambler in hard luck labored with infinite 
 craft to bring a cowboy to the mood of ex 
 changing his bronco for a bad watch a task 
 which was hopeless to the point of pathos, 
 for it required a fortune to here buy a horse, 
 and fortunes were rare in this crowd. It hap 
 pened, paradoxically, that a man in a saddle 
 was a millionaire. 
 
 Somewhere in the throng a monotonous 
 man with a dilapidated drum relic of a 
 stranded circus thumped it continually with 
 the automatic persistence of a hired man. 
 About him was a certain pomp, a blaze of 
 glory, born of his triumph in contributing to 
 the tumult a new kind of sound. 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Billy turned an appealing eye on the 
 Lambkin. 
 
 " Lively crowd, Jones? " 
 
 " Yes," said his comrade, bending close 
 that he might impart a lesser pitch to his 
 voice, " they do seem to be sorter active. But 
 I judge they won t really kick up a fuss till 
 they get the order to move. Then ll come 
 the dance." ;> 
 
 " Do you think we can hold our colors? " 
 
 " I think we can, William. Our hawses 
 are fresh and as good as any in the bunch, 
 and after the first hundred yards there ll be 
 plenty o room in front. Some o those 
 mavericks in line that think they ve got the 
 whole prairie grabbed and staked are goin 
 to go lame when the show begins." 
 
 Billy surveyed again the prodigious front 
 line which impressed him as a thing of sinis 
 ter propensities. He observed that the men 
 in the wagons enjoyed the better view, their 
 spring seats lifting them slightly above the 
 horsemen. In consequence they frequently 
 sighted a comrade in the crowd who re 
 sponded with his eye, and they flung conver 
 sation spirally over the heads that intervened. 
 
 256 
 
THE LONG, GRIM LINE 
 
 Billy noticed that the tone of these remarks 
 varied with the position of the comrade. If 
 in the forward line he was considerably ad 
 mired, but if in the tangled ranks to the rear 
 he very much resembled a terrapin or cater 
 pillar, and there were numerous occupations 
 that better befitted him. It was " Hullo, 
 Steve! Glad to see ye head hawg!" or 
 " Pete! Go home V feed yer cows! " as the 
 case might be. 
 
 It was also apparent that this event had 
 been the means of assembling a number of 
 weather philosophers. Frequently an elderly 
 oracle, gesticulating with his beard, would 
 remark that he apprehended rain. At inter 
 vals a problem in humor traveled by stages 
 down the line, and once the man on a saffron 
 mule sang, dolorously: 
 
 "Ears supreme and legs dee-vme, 
 My Moll mule is a he-ro-/#<?." 
 
 Always in the air was a bowstring vibra 
 tion. Billy noticed, too, that there was a 
 woman or two in the line. 
 
 It occurred to the Lambkin presently to 
 advise the tenderfoot with reference to their 
 
 257 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 behavior when the time for action should 
 arrive. 
 
 " You ll notice, William," said he, " that 
 we are penned in here like prize shoats by 
 these wagons, so the thing to do ll be to 
 crowd their hind wheels till there s a gap, 
 then swing through and " 
 
 "Steer north?" 
 
 " Yes ; north till we hit the old Hutton 
 Trail, by the Lone Cottonwood, then west 
 wards along the edge o the black-jacks, then 
 straight through the timber for half a mile, 
 strikin the open by Dry Creek, and from 
 there over the jumpin plains " 
 
 His friend of the horse-market had given 
 Butternut directions, had even provided him 
 with a chart of the country, which the wily 
 Lambkin had studied until copied indelibly 
 on his brain. 
 
 "Slow up, Jones!" cried the tenderfoot. 
 "Can t follow you!" 
 
 " You ll have to, William, when the dance 
 begins to the flower land o Oklahoma! 
 Only ten miles, and we must get there first 
 you hear me, William we must get there! " 
 
 Billy resolved privately that if necessary 
 258 
 
THE LONG, GRIM LINE 
 
 he would leap over rivers, uproot a forest, 
 surmount any obstacle in order to " get there." 
 The fever of the " boomer " was upon him. 
 He became a part of the mad, clamoring 
 throng. 
 
 As for the Lambkin, while he was enthu 
 siastic, he showed little excitement, although 
 as his gaze swept the north with calmness, he 
 squirmed a little restlessly in the stirrups. 
 
 A cavalry corporal on an iron-gray horse 
 rode up and down the front of the line. His 
 gauntleted right hand held a bugle which 
 glittered in the sun as from time to time he 
 waved it like a menacing wand at the multi 
 tude. A blast from this instrument was to be 
 the official signal of the opening, and as time 
 sped, the gaze of every person whose position 
 permitted became glued to this corporal. So 
 general and intense was the interest he pro 
 duced that it softened the rampant ardor of 
 some of the boomers. They no longer yelled, 
 nor sought to shoulder each other from the 
 landscape. It required an agile man to keep 
 an alert eye on the cavalryman and attend to 
 the aggressiveness of a neighbor at the same 
 time. 
 
 259 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 At one minute to twelve the hand with 
 the bugle was resting quietly on the corporal s 
 thigh. As the seconds wore along the breath 
 of an impending crisis seemed to fill the air 
 like a substance, and the tongues of the men 
 in the forward line were suddenly paralyzed. 
 They who had earlier conversed with the 
 freedom of old acquaintances and discussed 
 the relative superiority of some brands of 
 tobacco now sat woodenly, friendless. South 
 ward, along the creek, the trees of cottonwood 
 and mesquit seemed intent spectators. A 
 venerable buzzard from the brow of a snag 
 was solemnly contemplative. He signaled a 
 brother, a hoary patriarch, and they compared 
 notes. 
 
 To Billy there was something overmaster 
 ing and suffocating in the suspense a power 
 which seemed to grapple his throat with sin 
 ister fingers as over five thousand hungry, 
 intent eyes awaited the next move of this 
 gauntleted hand. It seemed incredible that 
 this orderly, even line was to suddenly become 
 a frenzied thing, a reaching, spreading mon 
 ster, filling the land with its bluster and blare, 
 merely because a certain man should raise and 
 blow a bugle. 
 
THE LONG, GRIM LINE 
 
 "William!" 
 
 " Well, Jones?" 
 
 " What d you s pose would happen if that 
 cavalryman should take a fool notion to twist 
 his mustache? " 
 
 "Jerusalem! They d steal a march on 
 Uncle Sam!" 
 
 " I reckon they would Get ready, 
 William." 
 
 The cavalryman had turned the head of 
 his gray northward, and was gathering up his 
 reins. There was a hum of restlessness on 
 every hand and in the air a feeling of grim 
 impatience. Huge, perspiring palms were 
 rubbed upon overalls. There was a sputter 
 ing stream of laments. One man, rising on 
 his spring seat, flung rasping abuse at the 
 horizon. Another appealed complainingly to 
 space: "Why don t he blow? Tears to me 
 he s blamed slow! " 
 
 On the instant the corporal sent a roving 
 eye down the line on either side, then, lifting 
 the gauntleted hand deliberately, blew a sin 
 gle blast. 
 
 261 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 AT THE BLAST OF A BUGLE 
 
 WHEREAT, with a suddenness spasmodic 
 and a degree of ferocity not to be touched 
 upon in language, the multitude here assem 
 bled swept northward. There occurred, miles 
 in width, an avalanche of horses, vehicles, and 
 men, with the noise and motion of innumer 
 able mad monsters. A commotion colossal 
 that, distending, filled the horizon. A reach 
 ing wave of humanity, inflamed to demoniacal 
 frenzy. The earth rang with countless thuds 
 and the air was thick with yells which must 
 have reached to the remotest borders of the 
 plain. The jangle of " traces " and brass- 
 keyed cries of the men rose to the din of a 
 tin-pan brigade, the banshee shriek of battle- 
 hordes, a world of pandemonium. The rattle 
 of wheels and batter of hoofs on the sod spread 
 broadwise in a hurricane of sound. 
 
 Afterward in Billy s memory the thing 
 262 
 
AT THE BLAST OF A BUGLE 
 
 which lived most vividly was his fleeting view 
 of an iron-gray horse leaping through the air 
 at the instant his own steed lunged, and But 
 ternut, bending, yelled him advice: 
 
 "Through the gap, William! Dead 
 ahead! Ride!" 
 
 The final injunction was whirled from 
 the highest point of the Lambkin s lung- 
 power, and Billy knew that there was no mis 
 taking it he must ride. Not at a comfort 
 able canter, or a lope, or even at a gallop, 
 but as the cowboy meant it at a pace which 
 would bring his steed s ears and tail to a level 
 and carom him over the slopes bullet-like at 
 a speed which would cause him to divide the 
 air so swiftly that he would feel himself be 
 coming smaller and be amazed. But Billy 
 was game to the heels. He could not, of 
 course, ride like the Lambkin, as if he were 
 part of his horse, but he could at least stay 
 in the saddle, and the bald-faced sorrel needed 
 no spur. So with a wild, challenging cry he 
 squeezed close until his boot rubbed the cow 
 boy s, and thus they rode. 
 
 The swooping throng was at once scat 
 tered wide by the varying fleetness of the 
 
 263 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 horses, and there were instances of surprising 
 speed from quarters previously unrecognized. 
 Some of the riders who had hitherto figured 
 as the subjects of facetious comment because 
 of their unpromising mounts now showed tri 
 umphantly at the front. A certain selfish man 
 would be approaching a point of vantage, his 
 face ashine with pride in the superiority of 
 his steed, when a lamb-eyed, unpretentious 
 beast, which had earlier in no way indicated 
 his qualities, would pass him with a blithe, 
 elastic stride. And the vanquished rider, 
 amazed and distressed, would turn to see if 
 others of this class were in sight. Later he 
 would become filled with immeasurable con 
 tempt for the quality of his own steed and 
 swear profoundly at him. 
 
 Among the horsemen who thus astonished 
 beholders was the man in a drab ulster, whose 
 angular mule thrust the plain behind him 
 with swift, miraculous gestures. The ease 
 with which this animal led the race amounted 
 to sarcasm. He seemed to gather a mile of 
 landscape in about the same period required 
 for a man to raise his voice. 
 
 Billy and the Lambkin rode always 
 264 
 
AT THE BLAST OF A BUGLE 
 
 abreast. Their horses, matched in speed, 
 went neck to neck, and the prairie flowed 
 under them, a limitless gray-green sea. 
 Northward for a mile they ran, until in a long 
 sag of the plain they came upon a lone cotton- 
 wood the Lambkin s first landmark by 
 which ran a trail westward. Furrowed and 
 worn from the travel of years was this trail, 
 and hoofs having struck it just before them, 
 they crossed in a world of yellow dust. Be 
 yond, they steered at an angle, slowing with 
 steady rein as the prairie, like a thing that is 
 tired, rolled in waves toward the black-jack 
 woods. 
 
 " Easy, William," breathed the Lambkin, 
 in a voice full of dust; "she s jolty now to 
 the timber." 
 
 Billy offered no response. Already he 
 had little breath for needless conversation. 
 With a feverish eye on the bobbing head of 
 a horseman some yards in advance he rode 
 oblivious. His entire interest in life seemed 
 fastened upon this rider, until Butternut gave 
 him a swift, uneasy glance, then took his big 
 hat and swung it viciously before the other s 
 face. 
 
 is 265 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Softly, William, or you ll be gettin the 
 1 glaze, " he wheezed. 
 
 Another mile they rode, rising on the 
 knolls and sinking in the hollows with a 
 rhythmic, cradle-like motion. 
 
 " What is the glaze, Jones? " 
 
 " It s a sort o stupor that sometimes 
 catches a man new to the saddle from ridin 
 too long at one tension. Makes him dizzy 
 and likely to tumble, and loses his head so t 
 he don t care if he does. Don t get excited, 
 is the safest plan." 
 
 They had reached the timber stretch and 
 were careering along the edge of it. The 
 prairie to their right and behind them was 
 still dotted with riders, but the Lambkin 
 gave them no heed. He directed his atten 
 tion wholly to the woods, casting from time 
 to time a calculating eye through the trees. 
 Presently he gave utterance to a gleeful yell. 
 
 " That tall tree yonder, William, on the 
 edge o the strip, is where we turn in. I was 
 beginnin to fear our chart had lied. There s 
 a cow-path through the belt, and by takin it 
 we ll gain a quarter." 
 
 On the instant they wheeled and went 
 266 
 
AT THE BLAST OF A BUGLE 
 
 recklessly at the woods, bending low among 
 the branches, which smote them like claws 
 and threatened to dislodge them from their 
 horses. Their pace here was of necessity a 
 walk, and their way was beset with difficulties, 
 but desperately, gallantly, they threshed for 
 ward. The timber-belt was scarcely half a 
 mile in width, but to Billy it had all the 
 dimensions of a jungle. Eventually, how 
 ever, after what seemed to him an intermin 
 able battle with the brush, they emerged again 
 into the white light of the plain and wheeled 
 tranquilly northward. 
 
 Behind them, as before, came a persistent, 
 courageous band, but it was now a thin, strag 
 gling column stretching rearward for a mile. 
 It was apparent that this section of the flying 
 line had met with some obstacle an inop 
 portune canon or unexpected timber-strip, 
 and this was the difficulty which Butternut s 
 familiarity with the landscape had enabled 
 him to avoid. 
 
 In consequence of the advantage now 
 gained Billy and the Lambkin discovered 
 presently that they were leading the race, and 
 they grew tremendously elated. Their feel- 
 
 267 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ings even left them of a mind for idle conver 
 sation. Butternut, turning casually in the 
 saddle, made careless reference to the rider 
 nearest them. 
 
 " She rides handsome, but she s plum 
 played out, and I m afraid she s killin her 
 hawss " 
 
 Billy went erect as a spike. 
 
 " A woman! " he cried. He wheeled his 
 glance to the rear, to discover the folds of a 
 gray skirt blowing on the wind, and a slen 
 der boot in a narrow stirrup. A moment his 
 gaze comprehended nothing more, but di 
 rectly he observed the full, graceful figure 
 of the rider. She was a young woman, and 
 as she leaned lithely over the neck of her 
 mount he saw that her face was round and 
 fair to look upon. Her head was bare of all 
 covering, a large cattleman s hat swinging by 
 a string from her throat. There was a look 
 of wild hunger, of despairing eagerness in 
 her face, though her eyes, expressionless, were 
 as if stone blind. 
 
 "God!" cried Billy. He whirled furi 
 ously on the cowboy. " She s falling! She ll 
 drop in the next mile! " 
 
 268 
 
AT THE BLAST OF A BUGLE 
 
 The Lambkin s response, save in volume, 
 was a drawl: 
 
 " William, I reckon she will; but it would 
 hurt her feelin s to stop her. Maybe she ll 
 have the sense to halt " 
 
 Abruptly an appalling change came over 
 him. One swift instant his look was that of a 
 man whose throat is caressed by an appari 
 tion the pallor of him rivaling the death- 
 white on the face of the woman then settled 
 again, serene, implacable. Bringing his 
 glance forward he bestowed unswerving at 
 tention on a dim line of timber that curved in 
 definitely into the northwest. 
 
 Billy thereafter found himself impetu 
 ously hurling prophecies at an entirely feel- 
 ingless object. His references to the woman 
 might with the same efficacy have been ad 
 dressed to a tree, to a hill, or to space. He 
 grew stupefied at this utter defiance of tradi 
 tion, this sovereign contempt for an opportu 
 nity for gallantry, unprecedented even in 
 romance. Here was an insult to the teachings 
 of his childhood, a brutal violation of all 
 lovely legends. Thrice he wheeled his gaze 
 about and, meeting the glaze of the fair 
 
 269 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 rider s eyes, underwent a spasm of distress. 
 The spectacle commanded the entire respect 
 of his mind, grasping vise-like the sympathies 
 of his humane instincts. He whirled another 
 ferocious look at Butternut, whose gaze still 
 studied the crawling line of timber. 
 
 " If I d any doubt of her bein down " 
 
 The cowboy uttered a shrill, wild yell, as 
 a man who throws aside a large amount of 
 forbearance. Sweeping out a dexterous arm 
 he seized the tenderfoot s shoulder, and, bend 
 ing, screamed with an oath into the teeth of 
 the other: 
 
 " Button your wind and your chickenness! 
 Don t be a damned fool! " 
 
 270 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 BILLY IS GALLANT 
 
 WITH his second backward glance the 
 Lambkin had recognized the Whippoorwill. 
 But he had become hardened. Long and 
 repeated days of bitterness seemed finally to 
 have incased his bleeding heart in a shell, 
 just as flesh long persecuted becomes insen 
 sible to pain. This piteous depth of his mis 
 ery could not have been better shown than 
 by the fact that he now, though at first dis 
 posed to adopt a harsh mood toward the 
 tenderfoot, discovered eventually, in the light 
 of his experience, a certain ironical humor 
 in the latter s behavior. Men frequently 
 laugh loudest when most desperate, so the 
 Lambkin began to offer advice to Billy in the 
 tones of one who has a tremendous joke in 
 mind. 
 
 " Come to think of it, William, you had 
 better halt her right off. It ll be kind of a 
 
 271 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 shame to lose your lead, but you ll get your 
 reward. I ll gamble she hasn t forgot how 
 to smile, and nobody could ask more n that! " 
 
 Billy was inclined to seize him and make 
 a strong effort to sweep him from the saddle. 
 
 " You know her? " 
 
 " Aw, yes." The Lambkin made an elo 
 quent flourish toward the south. " We are 
 quite old friends. Met her down in Texas, 
 at a function J in the city o Whitewater. 
 She was queen o the occasion the fairy o 
 the flock." His voice had the tone of foul 
 medicine as he thought of a Girl from Mis 
 souri, " They called her the Whip will down 
 there, and there was a fiddle and plenty o 
 whisky where she held forth." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well! There was plenty o whisky 
 there, I said, and to see the inside would in 
 no way remind you of a church. There was 
 a right active bar at one end, and at the other 
 a stage where she used to dazzle the boys 
 from over the range when she sang Annie 
 Laurie and The Last Rose o Summer. But 
 I reckon she was better at dancin ." 
 
 Now here was something which, to But- 
 272 
 
BILLY IS GALLANT 
 
 ternut s mind, ought to have staggered a stone > 
 but which Billy accepted with no visible dis 
 tress. On the contrary, he showed a supreme 
 and frozen indifference, an imbecile heedless- 
 ness, the profound calm of a man who hears 
 the details of juvenile campaigns. The Lamb 
 kin viewed him in a stupor, helpless, petrified, 
 for he was now posing on a moral pin 
 nacle which probably he would never have 
 achieved but for his experience with the 
 Whippoorwill. This in accordance with the 
 rule that when a woman shows a man that 
 she has amused herself with him he inevitably 
 becomes a figure of mangled purity, an out 
 raged saint, while her character as infallibly 
 assumes the hue of an African in a chimney. 
 
 " She wasn t always bad, I ll allow," pur^ 
 sued the senseless Billy. " May not have been 
 her fault either. Stress of fortune and cir 
 cumstances " 
 
 The Lambkin threw his gaze to the clouds, 
 overcome by this excruciating thrust. Viv 
 idly he recalled the numberless occasions 
 when, debating with himself, he had used 
 this same magnanimous argument. 
 
 Immediately he lost all inclination for 
 273 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 further words with Billy, from whom he 
 turned pityingly, but as at this instant there 
 came a cry from the Whippoorwill, he im 
 pulsively glanced again in her direction. 
 Her steed was swaying, certainly, but then 
 she would doubtless land on her feet, for, he 
 reflected, she was a woman of experience. 
 Besides, had he not once gone out of his way 
 for her with fearful results? 
 
 The tenderfoot s feelings, however, were 
 different. Not having the Lambkin s point 
 of view, he could afford to be more humane. 
 He gave a shout to the Whippoorwill, and 
 by a dexterous and quick wheel escaped the 
 clutch of his comrade. He was even in time 
 to catch the reins of the woman s mount, but 
 was too late to avert the disaster. The stag 
 gering horse went sprawling on the plain, and 
 his hapless rider was thrown bowling into a 
 heap, limp and unconscious. Butternut, look 
 ing straight ahead, failed to observe the mis 
 hap. Immediately Billy was clear of the stir 
 rups and bending over her, while the voice 
 of the heedless cowboy reached him in a jum 
 ble of imprecation and song. 
 
 274 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 "IF I WERE GOING TO BE HANGED!" 
 
 FOR a distance the Lambkin rode amid 
 deep woe, swearing and larruping his legs in 
 the stirrups. Billy had betrayed him. Billy 
 had used his feelings in the shabbiest possible 
 manner. Billy was worse than a criminal. 
 The Lambkin s voice went out in a long 
 groan. It was not unnatural that he should 
 fail to see that even if, as he believed, the 
 Whippoorwill was in no great danger, Billy 
 had done a gallant thing that the anguish 
 he had endured because of this woman should 
 so cloud his perception as to show him 
 Billy merely as a copy of himself an in 
 fatuated fool. He made desperate effort 
 to discover a measure for the tenderfoot s 
 offense, but was wofully inadequate to the 
 task. The entire length and breadth of his 
 experience failed to provide a precedent 
 for this appalling crime. He could only 
 gather in his mind a volley of deepest cal- 
 
 275 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 umny and hurl it with ferocity at the inno 
 cent Billy. He then discovered it a relieving 
 process to include all mankind in his denun 
 ciations. The sudden spectacle of the Whip- 
 poorwill, appearing in his wake like a for 
 gotten ghost, had thrown him into a kind of 
 frenzy. He had finally surrendered himself 
 to the question of why individuals so pathet 
 ically helpless as Billy and himself were 
 permitted at large, when a sudden obstruction 
 in his path surprised him. 
 
 At the top of a rise he found himself on 
 the point of colliding with a man in a drab 
 ulster who, in the company of a saffron mule, 
 had come to a halt at the foot of the slope 
 beyond. Both were in an attitude of absolute 
 rest, the man standing carelessly, his weight 
 on one leg and a guarding hand on his steed s 
 neck. Between the pair and Butternut the 
 distance was scarcely ten yards, but the Lamb 
 kin had not the time to lift his voice before 
 the tail of the ulster went like a curtain in 
 the air, the graceless little legs beneath it 
 spread and closed with the action of a patent 
 clothes-pin, and man and beast went north 
 ward with stupefying velocity. 
 
 276 
 
"IF I WERE TO BE HANGED" 
 
 " By the Jumpin Jack-rabbits!" gasped 
 Butternut, as he swept over the spot they 
 had occupied, and, looking after them, saw 
 that he was being regarded humorously by 
 the drab ulster, who now wafted off into 
 song: 
 
 "Oh, some like a hoss hoof a mule hoof is better ; 
 Give me my Moll s hoof in all sorts o weather." 
 
 The singer slowed his pace until Butter 
 nut was enabled to ride abreast of a little 
 spare man, with a stubby, straw-colored beard 
 and small, brown eyes that squinted merrily 
 in all directions. His face was tanned to the 
 tone of new leather, and his thin, long nose 
 had the curve of a beak, the sides of which 
 seemed to slope far back into the shadow of 
 his cheeks. His hair was of a troubled gray, 
 though he wore perpetually the smile of a 
 clown. It was his wonderful steed, however, 
 which drew most of the Lambkin s attention. 
 In deep amazement he contemplated the 
 homely animal whose ungainly limbs were 
 such a revelation. 
 
 " By the last hair of a tarant ler, stranger, 
 youVe got a swift beast! " 
 
 277 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 The ulster grinned more and more ex 
 pansively, tilting the beak skyward, and 
 finally exploded a sort of three-cornered 
 cackle which exposed a staggering row of 
 front teeth. 
 
 " By the virtue of oP Moll s hoof, sonny, 
 ye air kerreck! Thah s nothin so speedy as 
 thet same mare mule!" He lifted a proud 
 hand and feelingly smote the brute s neck. 
 " She s the winged witch o the prairies, is 
 Moll, and ye kin taberlate thet on yer tomb 
 stone! " 
 
 At a rapid, regular pace they went, 
 leaning now toward the northwest. From 
 time to time a startled jack-rabbit leaped into 
 view and raced for the woods, while period 
 ically from the bunch-grass flashed the great 
 grasshoppers with warlike rattle. 
 
 The Lambkin presently felt constrained 
 to mention a part of his woes to his compan 
 ion. The fellowship of two men with a com 
 mon interest, galloping abreast for a certain 
 time, impelled him to a kind of confidence. 
 Besides, he felt no small desire to expose 
 Billy, which, though a tame revenge, was the 
 fiercest in his reach. Accordingly, as they 
 
 278 
 
"IF I WERE TO BE HANGED " 
 
 sped over the next rise, he rode closer to the 
 Moll mule. 
 
 " I lost a mighty good pard in the shuffle," 
 he observed, carelessly. 
 
 " ShoM Ye don t say! " The mule was 
 the recipient of an affectionate blow in the 
 flank. " No kind of a hawss, hey? Sarved 
 him right. Where d ye leave him? " 
 
 " About a mile back, I judge; but he had 
 a good hawss." 
 
 The ulster s curiosity here drew him erect 
 in a manner quite satisfactory to the Lambkin. 
 
 "Huh! What laid him out? " 
 
 " Petticoats! " cried the cowboy, bitterly; 
 " a song-and-dance favorite, and a maid of 
 right lovely ways. She s a capital judge o 
 whisky and can ( **ock the cards with her 
 eyes shut. Her hawss, you see, was played 
 out, and he stopped to give her a lift. I 
 reckon she s got his hawss by this time." 
 
 " Yaas? That was powerful perlite." 
 
 " Oh, it was very fine, but she ll give him 
 trouble, for she s a poison bad lot. She ll 
 make him love her for a sufferin angel be 
 fore she gets through but, by God!" he 
 broke off piteously, for always in his heart 
 
 279 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 was a Girl from Missouri, " I know her for 
 a screechin centipede! " 
 
 " Aw, now, me son sof ly! We don t 
 want to be ha ash. Mebbe it warn t so much 
 her doin s. Circumstances could a played a 
 big hand " 
 
 Butternut felt as if he had been struck 
 a violent blow in the face. He uttered a 
 groan in the despairing tone of one who has 
 lost all faith in his kind, and at once swerved 
 at a wide distance from the ulster, regarding 
 him thereafter with monumental contempt. 
 He became a forlorn horseman journeying 
 hopelessly over the monotonous levels of the 
 plain. Did no one have the sense to under 
 stand? He swore roundly at mankind, espe 
 cially at Billy, more particularly at the 
 Whippoorwill. For her his loathing was 
 immeasurable, she being the foul germ to 
 which all these ills, these agonies, could be 
 traced. As her countless tricks and wiles 
 flashed unclad before him, he wondered for 
 the hundredth time why she had previously 
 in no way impressed him as a strategist. Blind 
 indeed must he have been, and above all was it 
 piteously ironical to recall that her chief bat- 
 
 280 
 
"IF I WERE TO BE HANGED J> 
 
 tery had been pathos. As he had once assured 
 McCormick, she was a " hummer " on pathos. 
 If he had had doubting moments before, 
 he was now certain that his regard for this 
 woman was the same as he should feel for a 
 slough of reptiles, a swarm of tarantulas. 
 His thoughts upon her were beyond all 
 speech, though a dim expression of them 
 might be: 
 
 " If I were going to be hanged, and 
 were called upon to name the crowning 
 pity of the world, it would be that some 
 women are not born in their proper shape. 
 Belonging to the creatures that crawl, yet 
 they walk and smile as women, and so de 
 ceive man into thinking them of consequence, 
 only to take him and delicately drown him 
 in a sea of despair, of shame " 
 
 Something of the tenor of this speech 
 seemed beating in his head like an automatic 
 hammer timed to the regular strokes of his 
 horse s hoofs. 
 
 Eventually, in a feverish effort at diver 
 sion, he began giving a sort of attention to 
 objects along the way. Once when an ad 
 venturous wolf rounded the base of a knoll 
 w 281 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 to his left, he mechanically leveled his six- 
 shooter in that direction. The action was so 
 free from interest that he nonchalantly closed 
 both eyes with the discharge of the weapon 
 and rode onward without troubling to note 
 the effect of the shot. From time to time, as 
 the recollection of late events came over him, 
 he would grind his teeth in deepest woe, and, 
 gazing in a helpless way at space, breathe out 
 appealingly: 
 
 "Oh, hell!" 
 
 And again the hammer in his head and 
 the rhythmic hoof-strokes, saying: 
 
 " If I were going to be hanged " 
 
 282 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE LAMBKIN SEES HUMOR 
 
 THE tops of the cottonwoods swung in 
 sympathy together above a winding tunnel of 
 shadows. Here was a wilderness of green in 
 terlacing branches through which the stream 
 of Moccasin flowed leisurely, with frequent 
 and picturesque bend and turn. 
 
 Butternut, following an abandoned cattle- 
 trail, rode briskly to the ford. Allowing his 
 " blown " roan a single cautious swallow, he 
 haltered the animal to a sapling, and pro 
 ceeded at once to select a site for his tent; 
 for here was the section on which he chose 
 to " stake his claim." However, as a half- 
 drowned person loses the desire to keep afloat, 
 so a horseman sorely jaded is slow to journey 
 afoot. The Lambkin had proceeded not a 
 dozen yards before his limbs became as un 
 certain of movement as those of a drowsy cub, 
 and, tired and saddle-sore, he sat down to rest. 
 
 283 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Confusedly in his mind was the spectacle of 
 mad horsemen sweeping the southward plain, 
 while keen and distinct was his vision of the 
 Whippoorwill and Billy. " William, Will 
 iam," he muttered, and his voice was hope 
 less. He thought but once of the drab ulster, 
 who had left his company about half a mile 
 back, his last remark to Butternut having been 
 some indistinct reference to the virtues of the 
 Moll mule. 
 
 After a short period of inaction the cow 
 boy rose and resumed his detour, viewing the 
 landmarks of the bottom as one who beholds 
 a familiar locality; for the directions of the 
 friend of the horse-market had been most 
 minute. There was the old half-burned 
 stump he had pointed out on his chart, over 
 there by the blazed mesquit, and there, too, 
 by the edge of the creek, lay the monstrous 
 log he had mentioned, a great hollow extend 
 ing from end to end and leaving it but a shell. 
 This log had been especially impressed on 
 the horse-dealer s mind because once on a 
 hunt, when it had rained, he had crawled 
 into it to escape the wet. 
 
 Butternut advanced and peered skeptic- 
 284 
 
THE LAMBKIN SEES HUMOR 
 
 ally into the mouth of the log. " He must 
 have shrunk considerably to have got in 
 there," he mused, whimsically. " I don t be 
 lieve it would fit me" A sudden desire to 
 settle the point smote him, and impulsively 
 he thrust his entire body, feet foremost, into 
 the hollow, and there followed a period in 
 which he deeply and tranquilly slept. 
 
 He was disturbed abruptly by a partial 
 revolution of the log causing him to perform 
 a like movement. He made a wild effort to 
 support himself, but had barely recovered his 
 balance before another spasmodic rolling 
 threw him into his previous position. He 
 was on the point of shouting when a heavy 
 voice rose at one end of the log : 
 
 " I reckon it s a pious idee, ( Hicksy M " 
 
 The remark was evidently in approval of 
 a suggestion by another party, who now spoke 
 at the opposite end: 
 
 " Bet it is, Bartle. It ain t the thing to 
 erect a bang-up shanty V thar by draw 
 s picion. We don t want any spec latin es 
 to how we found time to h ist anything 
 laborate." 
 
 The voices were a study in villainous 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 accent. The retired Lambkin grinned in 
 glee. Here was a situation in which he saw 
 nothing but humor. The speech of the men 
 had at once stamped them as " sooners,"* and 
 it was also to be gathered from their language 
 that the log was intended to serve as a factor 
 in their dwelling, then in course of con 
 struction. The cowboy, however, had heard 
 enough to understand that it would be a seri 
 ous matter if he were discovered, and on the 
 heels of this reflection came the remembrance 
 that at a previous time that afternoon he had 
 discharged a chamber of his six-shooter at 
 a particularly unimportant and inoffensive 
 wolf. It occurred to him now that no object 
 could have been of less consequence than this 
 animal, and at the same time the chamber in 
 question reached a sudden high value in his 
 mind. His hand instinctively sought his hip, 
 but the movement was difficult owing to the 
 limited room at his command and the log s 
 revolutions requiring him to make a shield 
 ing brace of his elbows; however, by the play 
 
 * At the time of this event there were numerous persons who sought a 
 short route to prosperity by evading the vigilantes and placing themselves 
 across the line in advance of the legal date. Such parties were known as 
 " sooners," 
 
 286 
 
THE LAMBKIN SEES HUMOR 
 
 of his forearms alone he succeeded in reach 
 ing the weapon and in replacing the wasted 
 charge. 
 
 By the time this was accomplished the 
 " sooners " had got the log into a locality satis 
 factory to them, and the cowboy thereafter 
 enjoyed the luxury of having his attitude of 
 repose undisturbed. He lay comfortably 
 then on his stomach, and having brought his 
 weapon forward, trained its muzzle carelessly 
 on the mouth of the log. Through the round 
 opening he saw that the approach of night 
 was rapidly filling the bottom with shadows, 
 and presently some crackling brush told him 
 that the " sooners " had started a blaze. 
 Doubtless this was with a view to preparing 
 their evening meal, and again did the confi 
 dent proceedings of the ruffians cause the 
 Lambkin to smile. Soon the pleasing aroma 
 of steaming coffee was floating in to him. 
 The fire was burning a few yards from the 
 end of the log, at a point almost in line with 
 his vision, and as the flames brightened with 
 the darkness, their light flickered along the 
 interior of his retreat to within three inches of 
 his arm. By twisting his head as far to one 
 
 287 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 side as his narrow quarters would permit he 
 could include a section of the fire in his view, 
 and was enabled to see a fragmentary leg and 
 arm silhouetted against the flames. He was 
 considering the possible effect of a random 
 shot at the coffee-pail, squatting clear in his 
 sight, when an incident, sudden and startling, 
 brought commotion in the camp. A pair of 
 graceless legs and the tail of a drab ulster 
 passed rapidly between him and the firelight, 
 and accompanying the movement a familiar 
 twanging voice smote his ears : 
 
 " By the sonorous whisper o my Moll 
 mule, gen l men, I m rejoiced to meet ye! 
 Don t rise, I implore ye! " 
 
 Both " Hicksy " and Bartle had leaped 
 up, each with a hand on a weapon, but the 
 visitor, with a sweeping flourish, besought 
 them not to be disturbed. 
 
 " It would pain me deeply, genTmen, to 
 feel that I wah troublin ye. Hev ye seen 
 anything of a yaller mule named Moll?" 
 
 At once the manner of the " sooners " was 
 most hospitable. The stranger having made 
 no show of war, his soft, clangorous voice 
 rising only in a note of gentle inquiry, the 
 
 288 
 
THE LAMBKIN SEES HUMOR 
 
 relief they experienced inclined them to a 
 show of great cordiality. 
 
 " Stranger," said Mr. Bartle, " we ve seen 
 neither hide ner hoof o the animal ye re 
 lookin fer, but weVe got some spankin good 
 coffee hyer, if ye care to sample et." 
 
 "You bet," supported Mr. Hicks; " and 
 I jedge our hawg meat ain t the worst in 
 Oklahomer. Ye ll hev to jine us in a bite 
 er two." 
 
 The newcomer made a most deprecating 
 motion. 
 
 " Yer hospitality, genTmen, touches me, 
 but I couldn t think o puttin ye out." 
 
 Nevertheless, after some further insisting 
 by the " sooners," and a proper amount of hes 
 itancy, the visitor finally arranged his figure 
 in a sociable sprawl by the fire, from which 
 position, during the remaining preparations 
 for supper, he entertained his hosts by a hu 
 morous account of the tribulations which had 
 oppressed him through the ownership of a 
 certain mule. From time to time he inter 
 rupted himself to laugh long and boister 
 ously, and in each instance Mr. Bartle and 
 Mr. Hicks, catching his hilarity, would join 
 
 289 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 in. He had a wonderful fund of anecdote, 
 and it flowed in a copious stream until sup 
 per was announced. Even then, during the 
 progress of the meal, his tongue wagged on 
 at a lively rate. 
 
 " GenTmen," he observed, glancing quiz 
 zically around through the gathering dusk, 
 " you ve struck a right valuable claim hyer, 
 hain t ye? Bout the choicest quarter-section 
 in the whole Territory, this is. Runnin wa 
 ter on two sides, and every acre, cept the 
 creek bottoms, the richest prairie land, to say 
 nothin of her adj inin the county-seat. Coin 
 to work her j intly, I s pose? " 
 
 Mr. Bartle gave his comrade a swift, 
 sagacious glance. 
 
 " Why, ye see," said Hicks, " we had fig 
 ured that as the best plan, seein as it takes 
 two to hold a claim these stirrin times, once 
 ye git it. While one is hustlin supplies 1 fer 
 instance, t other kin stay an hold the title. 
 It saves a lot of argymint." 
 
 " Exactly," returned the ulster, chuckling. 
 " I appreciate the p int, fer it s the identical 
 old idee I had in mind; but knowin t other 
 feller wouldn t see the advantage of it, I re- 
 
 290 
 
THE LAMBKIN SEES HUMOR 
 
 frained from presentin my plan. I had jest 
 lit on an elegant quarter-section, right here 
 in your neighborhood, when a wild-eyed son- 
 of-a-gun come gallavantin down on me like 
 a rory-bory- Alice, and persuaded me to retire. 
 As I had no steed in sight to prove thet I d 
 rid thar, he called me a sooner and insinu 
 ated thet I d been campin thar fer weeks. 
 Then he p inted a pair o sixes at me with 
 both hands, and lowed I d find it a good deal 
 healthier on the adj inin section. I was so 
 incensed, gen l men, at his discourtesy thet 
 after framin a proposition o partnership in 
 my mind, I disdained to honor him with it. 
 And all owin to the absence of a condemned, 
 ornery, saw-toothed, punkin yaller mule!" 
 
 The three of them again laughed long and 
 unrestrainedly, the " sooners " thinking here 
 was a man of their class, and at the close of 
 their outburst Mr. Hicks, leaning toward the 
 ulster, said, meaningly, while he beamed 
 with good humor: 
 
 " I d hate, stranger, to lay a good deal 
 thet you ever had a mule! " 
 
 The visitor at once assumed a most in 
 jured look, which, however, only served to 
 
 291 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 increase the hilarity of the " sooners." They 
 were very shrewd. 
 
 To the cowboy, resting comfortably in the 
 log, within three yards of this interesting 
 group, the ulster, who he knew did own a 
 mule, presented a problem in character too 
 intricate for solution. He accordingly turned 
 his entire thought to the men Bartle and 
 Hicks, who it was plain were two of a brand. 
 To them he could no longer forego the satis 
 faction of announcing himself. Abruptly, 
 therefore, at a pause in the conversation, he 
 drew his entire body out into the glare of the 
 fire, and turned the muzzle of his weapon 
 carelessly toward the " sooners." 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, serenely, " I own 
 this land!" 
 
 292 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 A FEW HOSTILITIES 
 
 IT did not occur to him to accompany the 
 remark by a definite aiming of his weapon, 
 which, therefore, was pointed at neither ruf 
 fian in particular, but wavered in a manner 
 to cover first one, then the other of the pair. 
 Immediately he had cause to deplore this 
 negligence. The commotion produced by his 
 appearance, while exactly what he had ex 
 pected, was yet so sudden and violent as to 
 bewilder him. He remembered firing twice 
 at a gigantic bounding object which seemed 
 to approach him in a succession of hand 
 springs and which developed on closer ac 
 quaintance into the person of Mr. Bartle, 
 who, with a yell of pain at his second shot, 
 fell furiously upon him. The fashion of his 
 hold left it impossible for Butternut to make 
 further use of his weapon, and the cowboy 
 at once understood that he was called upon 
 
 293 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 to make the best of an awkward transaction, 
 while at the same time his uppermost sensation 
 was a keen delight in the effect of his second 
 bullet, which he knew had lodged somewhere 
 in the person of his foe. However, he real 
 ized that all exertions now possible on his 
 part must be of brief enaction, since few mo 
 ments could elapse before his adversary would 
 receive the support of his comrade. Accord 
 ingly, in the close embrace of Mr. Bartle, he 
 went desperately over the earth in a series of 
 quick revolutions. But despite his preoccu 
 pation, there was time for amazement when, 
 being thrown suddenly into a position which 
 brought his glance in the direction of the fire, 
 he observed there a remarkable performance 
 in progress. Mr. Hicks, in the act of spring 
 ing to the relief of his comrade, was suddenly 
 seized by the drab ulster and borne violently 
 backward to the earth, while in the same in 
 stant the air seemed filled with the jangle of 
 two voices, one uttering oaths of bitterest 
 quality, the other making vehement reference 
 to a certain mare mule. The astonished cow 
 boy next observed, when this separate en 
 counter had attained its fiercest height, the 
 
 294 
 
A FEW HOSTILITIES 
 
 sudden glimmer of firelight on steel, which 
 was followed by the click of snapping metal, 
 and as the intertwined figures rose upright he 
 saw that the wrists of the ulster s adversary 
 were secured by handcuffs. But the gyra 
 tions of the ulster by no means ceased at this 
 point. Addressing a low remark into the ear 
 of Mr. Hicks, which had the effect of caus 
 ing the ruffian to remain inactive, he waltzed 
 over to Bartle, whose wound seemed to have 
 endowed him with a fury which gave him 
 strength. The Lambkin was expending a 
 gallant final effort when he felt his assailant 
 wrenched clear of him with a violence which 
 sent his own body spinning. He fell in an 
 exhausted heap, and lay for some moments 
 stupefied, then rising confusedly on his elbow 
 he saw that the ulster had both men in charge, 
 and with a knife and some strips of cloth in 
 hand was giving surgical attention to the in 
 jured Bartle. In the flare of the firelight the 
 three figures bore the aspect of shadows, but 
 their attitudes showed the Lambkin clearly 
 which was master of the field. The hand of 
 the bewildered cowboy, fumbling over the 
 ground, came in contact with his revolver, 
 
 295 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 and he grinned in a foolish fashion as he re 
 placed the weapon at his hip. Next he rose 
 and walked sheepishly into the firelight, his 
 hand at his chin. The ulster was bending at 
 tentively over Mr. Bartle s arm, while hold 
 ing that member toward the light. 
 
 " Ye swatted him in the muscle, sonny," 
 he remarked, imparting a final touch to the 
 rude bandage, " so I reckon it ain t fatal." 
 
 Butternut advanced with the demeanor of 
 one who would like to know more of the 
 circumstances, but the air of the little old 
 man restrained him. There was something 
 strangely grim and commanding about the 
 ulster as, having concluded his " operation," 
 he began to walk back and forth in the fire 
 light, swinging a weapon with his stride and 
 keeping an unvarying eye on his prisoners. 
 
 Meanwhile, from over the plain and 
 through the timber of the bottom came the 
 sounds of hoofs and men noises of a scat 
 tered throng. Swiftly, by the edge of the 
 woods, the straggling boomers continued to 
 hammer past. Frequently in the shadows 
 rang the ax of an energetic squatter, already 
 begun his improvements, while farther down 
 
 296 
 
A FEW HOSTILITIES 
 
 the hollow, in accompaniment, floated scraps 
 of conversation and song. Occasionally a 
 horseman, battering by through the dusk, 
 lifted his voice in a winding, nonchalant yell, 
 to which the men in the hollow responded. 
 In the tones of the latter there was a note of 
 jubilance, for they had passed the crisis, and 
 now the whole thing was to them a celebra 
 tion. Periodically the cry of a lone wolf 
 smote the night afar, as though in protest at 
 these signs of human settlement, while always 
 through the trees the melancholy beat of hoofs 
 on the plain drummed a mournful chorus. 
 
 The drab ulster, continuing his stride up 
 and down the range of firelight, from time 
 to time bent his ear mysteriously toward the 
 depths of the woods. 
 
 " It s the shots, sonny yer two shots," he 
 remarked to the Lambkin. " It s more n 
 likely they ll raise a row. The bottom s alive 
 with sooners, and I m afeard we ll hev a 
 neat entertainment gittin these gentlemen out 
 o hyer." He indicated the two glowering 
 captives. 
 
 Butternut was trying to decide whether he 
 
 should construe these words as a rebuke, when 
 20 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 the abrupt splintering of brush and a low roar 
 of voices told of advancing men. The ulster 
 instantly, by a deft movement of his foot, 
 struck the coffee-pail and sent its contents 
 over the fire in a manner which brought dark 
 ness upon the camp. He governed the gesture 
 so nicely, too, as to be thrown by its impetus 
 within a hand s reach of his prisoners, and 
 seizing the collar of one, he controlled the 
 other by a significant pressure of his weapon, 
 both of them having been disarmed. As he 
 then, in an ominous whisper, which Butternut 
 overheard, commanded them to advance, the 
 Lambkin brushed the arm of the old man, 
 who, chuckling approval, turned the wound 
 ed Bartle over to his care. 
 
 Swiftly and with caution they proceeded 
 through the gloom of the woods, halting pres 
 ently in a thicket of tangled undergrowth. 
 And now, abruptly, in the camp they had de 
 serted arose a sullen wrangle and debate. 
 
 " Two shots V a yawp," said one voice. 
 
 " And cusses," amended another, and this 
 so increased the significance that it had an 
 obvious effect upon the council. There fol 
 lowed a hoarse jumble of arguments. 
 
 298 
 
A FEW HOSTILITIES 
 
 Butternut, retired in the brush-tangle, 
 grew thoughtful of many things which in no 
 wise concerned this menacing assembly. It 
 was now possible for him to regard the ulster 
 as other than a riddle he was clearly an 
 agent of the Government; but there were 
 numerous other questions to distress the 
 Lambkin. Where was his gallant horse, 
 Roan Rebel? Where, too, was the famous 
 Moll mule? Also it was inevitable that his 
 mind should wander back over the plain to 
 the woman episode. Where was Billy the 
 
 erring, the hopeless Billy? And 
 
 " . . . If I were going to be hanged " 
 
 The wrangle in the shadows deepened in 
 volume until it was clearly a thing of dire 
 portentions. At intervals an oath swung aloft 
 through the trees. Butternut, in a whisper, 
 sought certain information of the ulster, who, 
 listening, measured his response by the quali 
 ties of the tones of the men. 
 
 " Do you think they ll show their teeth? " 
 " Me son, the indications air they will. 
 Sof ly, don t ye chirp ! " 
 
 A hoarse noise in the throat of Mr. Hicks 
 dying suddenly in a w r heeze, Butternut knew 
 
 299 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 the ulster s fingers had interfered. The old 
 man made tedious effort to see through the 
 gloom of the underbrush, and took a fresh 
 grip on his weapon. The cowboy patiently 
 shifted to a new position and waited, while 
 the howl of the lone wolf struck a dismal 
 note. The leaves of the wilderness whispered 
 in the night wind, and from time to time the 
 man in the ulster referred to the probabilities 
 of a fight. 
 
 300 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE PASSING OF A WHIPPOORWILL 
 
 THE light of the moon, swinging low over 
 the trees, reached the undergrowth in few 
 localities. Here and there it appeared, a 
 luminous fantasy in the long blending shad 
 ows, and these resplendent points were so 
 occasional as merely to impart a new and 
 deeper mystery to the woods. Generally in 
 all quarters the gloom was as heavy as blan 
 kets, but it required no eye to know that the 
 hollow was inhabited. A determined, omi 
 nous presence was revealed in the jumble and 
 jar of men s voices in rough argument. Be 
 hind a prostrate cottonwood squatted a war 
 like row of figures which at certain points 
 of their discussion paused to bestow attention 
 upon a thicket of tangled mesquit. From 
 this thicket came a silence of strange power, 
 in that the more intense it was the more dread 
 it inspired. The man at the end of the log 
 swore cautiously at it. 
 
 301 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " They re in thah," he affirmed to his com 
 panions. * We know they re in thah. N 
 they dasn t come out! " 
 
 " Same as we dasn t go in, l Griggsy, v 
 observed the third man from him, and an 
 approving snicker traveled along the log. 
 Griggsy s scowl was unseen in the darkness, 
 but his tones swelled higher. He made a 
 slurring allusion to the humor of some per 
 sons, and pointing his revolver indefinitely, 
 sent a violent report bellowing through the 
 trees. The succeeding quiet was so deep that 
 it seemed to envelop the row of men like a 
 substance. The shot, though its origin was 
 palpable, had the effect of suggesting to them 
 an invisible and menacing presence. There 
 was a period in which they were immovable 
 and would have felt a keen terror at the mak 
 ing of a sound. Then of a sudden from the 
 depths of the thicket there issued two flashes, 
 each the precursor of a bullet which clipped 
 whistling through the foliage, and the next 
 moment to no one, even could they have seen 
 distinctly, would it have been apparent that 
 there was a man behind the log. By a com 
 mon impulse they had collapsed to the ground 
 
 302 
 
PASSING OF A WHIPPOORWILL 
 
 like paralytics. From the wake of one of the 
 responding bullets a tiny, lone leaf settled 
 down on Griggsy s hat. He was disconcerted. 
 This sudden discourteous behavior of the jun 
 gle impressed him somehow as a phenomenon. 
 He seemed amazed at a demonstration which 
 he had exerted his best energies to bring about. 
 
 " Wull, dam me," he mumbled in his 
 beard, and to his comrades he added, in the 
 superior tones of one sustained in a previous 
 contention, " I know d they wuh thah!" 
 
 After a period the dull voices jumbled 
 again, and the man at the end of the log swore 
 afresh at the silence in the thicket. Presently 
 he grew profound. As the general in com 
 mand it devolved upon him to devise some 
 feasible plan of attack. So he wagged his 
 beard reflectively, and at length decided that 
 the happiest course would be to make a cir 
 cuit of the enemy with most of his force and 
 invade the jungle from behind. Accordingly 
 he detailed a trusted man to remain stationed 
 at the log, and with the others proceeded on 
 a strategic movement through the brush. In 
 line with their plan, the trusted man, 
 during this maneuver, fired occasionally at 
 
 303 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 die thicket with a view to holding its atten 
 tion. His aim, however, was problematic, as 
 he was careful only in keeping his scalp be 
 low the level of the log. 
 
 Griggsy and his followers moved with the 
 noiselessness of apparitions, despite the irreg 
 ular growth of the bushes, and by zigzagging 
 discreetly escaped the patches of moonlight. 
 Twice they halted to whisper their under 
 standing of the plan, while they gestured 
 menacingly toward the thicket. 
 
 Meanwhile the ulster and the Lambkin, 
 unconscious of the strategy in progress, were 
 returning the spattering compliments of the 
 man behind the log. 
 
 It was at this juncture that suddenly, and 
 from a quarter entirely new to all parties in 
 this discussion, there came a shot which pro 
 duced an abrupt and terrific commotion in 
 the rear of the thicket. The report had 
 scarcely died away before a second shot, from 
 the same independent quarter, renewed the 
 effect of the first bullet. The tearing of brush 
 by heavy bodies, blended with a torrent of 
 vigorous language, told that Griggsy and his 
 forces were being assailed by a foeman in 
 
 304 
 
PASSING OF A WHIPPOORWILL 
 
 ambush. The Lambkin and the ulster, at once 
 aware of the presence of an ally, and grasp 
 ing this new location of the enemy, wheeled 
 and began a systematic fire in that direction. 
 There were sounds thereafter of tumultuous 
 disagreement. 
 
 And the " sooners " were not versed in bat 
 tle. If any of them could recall experiences 
 wearing the glitter of war, they were moments 
 of blare and bluster when no really fine be 
 havior had been required. In consequence, 
 these feverish ways of the woods filled them 
 with a consternation they could not suppress, 
 but which was in no way apparent from 
 their noise. They filled the night with mar 
 velous curses and yells. The woods to them 
 were aswarm with perils most sinister, and, 
 conceiving a moment for veterans, they ex 
 pressed their valor in a swift stream of sound. 
 
 But a battle in the dark, at uncertain 
 range, with bushes in plenty to intercept the 
 bullets, and the forces of both sides hugging 
 close to the earth, can not at best be regarded 
 as a very hazardous affair. It may be creative 
 of much commotion and tremendous noise, 
 but the result can scarcely be such as a man 
 
 305 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 could not contemplate with a calm mind. To 
 a person actively engaged in such conflict, 
 however, it is naturally of a huge, grim im 
 port, and he may be excused if he regards it 
 as a crisis. 
 
 For some time an apparently terrific bat 
 tle was raging in the woods. The drab ulster 
 alternately shouted and sang while he and 
 the Lambkin fusiladed the bushes, the cries 
 of Griggsy and his companions at moments 
 drowned the voice of their firearms, the un 
 known newcomer from his retired position in 
 the shadows occasionally screamed a chal 
 lenge. But when it was over when the ad 
 vance of dawn left it wise in the minds of the 
 " sooners " to withdraw the spectacle pre 
 sented was not particularly appalling. There 
 were revealed no dead upon the field, and the 
 " sooners," it was evident, were not even seri 
 ously disabled, for they had vanished to the 
 last man. The general result, however, in no 
 wise diminished the high esteem in which 
 Butternut and the ulster held the battle. As 
 the day broke clear over the bottom the old 
 man was feverishly passing a rag through 
 the chambers of his weapons, while he re- 
 
 306 
 
PASSING OF A WHIPPOORWILL 
 
 garded his captives with a highly important 
 air. Butternut was standing guard. The 
 Lambkin had a slight wound in the arm, but 
 he wore it with pride, as befitted a conqueror. 
 True, he once thought of Bartle s wound, and 
 wished that by way of variation his had been 
 a leg! 
 
 After a time it occurred to him to make 
 a search for the gallant stranger who had so 
 valiantly aided in the victory. The same im 
 portant light in which he regarded the battle 
 made him feel that this mysterious unknown 
 had been of much assistance. It was due him, 
 therefore, to be treated as a fellow victor. 
 Accordingly, leaving the captives in the care 
 of the ulster, the Lambkin proceeded through 
 the bushes to the point whence the inde 
 pendent firing had issued. In the center of 
 a small clearing he came suddenly upon a 
 young man in " city " dress sitting compla 
 cently, his back to a stump. 
 
 " Billy! Jumpin Tarant lers Billy! " 
 In the happiness of the moment the Lamb 
 kin lost utterly the dignity of a general, as 
 well as all his past bitter feeling. As the 
 tenderfoot sprang up he encircled him with 
 
 307 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 his sound arm in a show of inexpressible de 
 light, while Billy s keen pleasure was equally 
 apparent. Under the fire of Butternut s swift 
 questions he explained how he had followed 
 along several hours after the parting on the 
 plain. Galloping by the creek at sunset, he 
 had sighted the Lambkin s horse by the ford, 
 and halting, fyad pitched camp, thinking the 
 cowboy would return presently. 
 
 " But you never showed up, and I went to 
 sleep waiting. Then about midnight I was 
 roused by pistol-shots, and, prowling through 
 the brush, I came upon a bunch of bush 
 whackers bent on trouble. So as a matter of 
 principle I backed behind a stump and blazed 
 into them." 
 
 " I see," said Butternut; and he added, 
 with a smile of banter, " How s the Whip - 
 will?" 
 
 But Billy was anxious on other matters. 
 
 " I hope you have nailed your claim, 
 Jones?" 
 
 "Yes, William." The Lambkin made 
 an impatient movement with his hand, while 
 his smile broadened. "Where s the Whip - 
 will?" 
 
 308 
 
PASSING OF A WHIPPOORWILL 
 
 " I guess I haven t much choice now " 
 
 " It ll take both of us to hold mine. 
 Where d you leave the Whip will? " 
 Then Billy made an idle gesture: 
 " The Whippoorwill? Oh, she s dead." 
 The Lambkin s face froze. It took on the 
 tone of cold clay. He made as if to turn, but 
 it was the motion of a weed. His hand per 
 formed a piteous outward movement, the 
 appeal of the blind. He turned a dull gaze 
 upward, and made a wheezy, hoarse sound 
 in his throat. 
 
 " Yes," pursued Billy, indifferently. " She 
 fell just as I turned you didn t see her and 
 she was never conscious afterward. I got her 
 to some water in a squatter s tent, but she died 
 in an hour. ... I stayed only long enough 
 to bury her. Rather a sad case, Jones. Say 
 you knew her? " 
 
 " Yes," said the Lambkin, in a slow voice. 
 " We were quite old friends, Billy." 
 
 He looked abstractedly off through the 
 trees. 
 
 309 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE 
 
 ONE corner of Butternut s and Billy s 
 claim abutted on the town of Perry, which in 
 the afternoon of this second day was grown, 
 as if by enchantment, from a mere soldiers 
 camp on the line of the Santa Fe to 
 a booming county-seat with a population of 
 over six thousand, at least half of which 
 would be permanent. 
 
 Of buildings there was none, though a 
 number were in course of erection, but all 
 over the site were squatted square bleach 
 tents which, viewed from a distant hill, but 
 for the contradictory presence of the bawling 
 boomers, were not unlike a herd of white 
 buffalo. On every hand appeared establish 
 ments teeming and humming with varied in 
 dustries. Bakeshops, butcher-shops, barber 
 shops, " general merchandise," land-agents, 
 
 310 
 
THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE 
 
 opticians, photographers, the inevitable Chi 
 naman with his laundry-sign, fortune-tellers, 
 shooting-galleries, theaters and saloons all 
 were here, in tents, and conducting a metro 
 politan business. The fakirs with their gam 
 bling games were probably the most active, 
 and certainly the most noisy. There were 
 shell-games, wheels o fortune, and knife- 
 boards and rings in plenty, and the florid man 
 with the baby dolls and baseballs was there, 
 announcing to the swarming populace that 
 for every three " babies " they struck con 
 secutively they would get a half-dollar. What 
 with canvas and pink lemonade and peanuts 
 everywhere, there was only wanting the ele 
 phant and the sawdust to make it " circus 
 day." 
 
 Perhaps half a mile from this bustling 
 scene, on the open plain, yet so near the tim 
 ber along the creek as to be well in the shade 
 of the cottonwoods, Billy and the Lambkin 
 had pitched their tent. They had also, a few 
 yards from their quarters, hoisted a large 
 white flag which, when the wind was strong, 
 gave to the world the following informa 
 tion: 
 
 3*1 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 This Claim, 
 
 By right of priority, 
 
 Is the property of 
 
 CHARLES JONES 
 
 and 
 
 WILLIAM WHITE. 
 Attest : 
 
 JOSEPH PLUMMER, 
 
 Deputy U. S. Marsha!, Gutkrie. 
 
 The drab ulster had himself added the 
 bottom line, remarking to the Lambkin, with 
 a smirk of pride: 
 
 " I jedge that ll fetch em, sonny. There 
 ain t a dozen posted men in Oklahoma that 
 ain t heard o old Joe Plummer, an them 
 that ain t won t keer to go monkeyin with 
 Uncle Sam. But if ye should git into trouble, 
 why, thar s my address." 
 
 He had escorted his two prisoners to the 
 town, and, delivering them there to an able 
 lieutenant, returned to bid Butternut and 
 Billy good-by. 
 
 As he left them now, his Lilliputian legs 
 taking him toward the town, Butternut, look 
 ing admiringly after him, remarked: 
 
 "A mighty bold man, William, for his 
 312 
 
THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE 
 
 size. I don t believe he d think any more o 
 facin the mouth of a cannon than of eatin 
 his breakfast." 
 
 As the Lambkin, leaning against the cen 
 ter-pole at the entrance to his tent, surveyed 
 the howling young metropolis in the distance, 
 there was sadness in his heart. Billy could 
 not understand why a man who, from being 
 virtually penniless, was suddenly become a 
 comparatively wealthy person, should show 
 no signs of elation, although he well knew 
 that the Lambkin was a man who would never 
 make a great noise. Billy was jubilant. He 
 had refused to consider Butternut s offer of 
 an equal share until the Lambkin had made 
 it plain that it would be impossible for one 
 man to maintain his rights to a claim so valu 
 able against the army of contestants who, on 
 adjoining sections, were already filling the 
 land with arguments. With two partners, 
 each could be the other s " witness," and there 
 need never be a time when the foot of a 
 rightful owner should be remote from his 
 property. 
 
 The tenderfoot, inside their quarters, was 
 improvising a table by attaching some awk- 
 
 21 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 ward legs to a soap-box. From time to time 
 he cast an inquiring eye toward the Lambkin, 
 leaning gracefully against the tent-pole and 
 looking musingly toward the town. There 
 was something so suggestive of loneliness in 
 his attitude that Billy began to have a sus 
 picion, but smiled it aside as he asked, im 
 patiently: 
 
 " The woman, Jones she was nothing to 
 you?" 
 
 And the Lambkin, without turning his 
 head, replied, in his quiet voice: 
 
 " She was my wife, Billy." 
 
 And Billy was dumb for the rest of the 
 day. 
 
 The death-hour ever brings the tender- 
 est emotions uppermost, but the Lambkin s 
 thoughts, any more than to forgive her with 
 his whole heart, were not upon the Whip- 
 poorwill. They say that to pity oneself is a 
 dwarfish thing, but that can not be true, for 
 the Lambkin was lost in a sea of self-pity, 
 and his was anything but a small nature. It 
 may be that the solemnity of the moment had 
 much to do with his lofty plane of thinking, 
 and that later, losing its influence in the strife 
 
 3*4 
 
THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE 
 
 of an active life, he would view things in a 
 more rational light, but now he could only 
 feel in his heart that the death of the Whip- 
 poorwill could mean nothing to him. To 
 be merely legally free in no way removed the 
 baleful blot from his past, nor enabled him 
 to escape the law of conscience. On the con 
 trary, that black period of his life was merely 
 magnified by the great potency of his love. 
 While it was not in him to presume that the 
 Girl from Missouri cared in any way for 
 him, he believed that there were no previous 
 sacred claims upon her heart, and frankly felt 
 that he might set out to win her with the 
 chances fair in his favor, but his dance-hall 
 experiences were something which in his 
 present mood he could not bring himself to 
 the point of confiding to her, and even if, by 
 distorting his view-point and observing a 
 false standard, he could lessen the task, such 
 a standard could never be hers. It was ter 
 ribly ironical that the other one should have 
 lived only long enough to enter his life and 
 destroy it. 
 
 He did not notice Billy pass out of the 
 tent on his way to the town for provisions. 
 
 315 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 The tenderfoot was not jubilant now. He 
 journeyed with thoughtful steps to the city of 
 tents, entering which he turned an abstracted 
 eye upon the swarming, buzzing inhabitants. 
 He lost a dollar or two at the gambling games 
 in the hope that the amusement might change 
 his mood, and he tried to interest himself in 
 the noisy utterances of an agent proclaiming 
 the last rise in values, but it was useless. Not 
 even the sudden offering of a small fortune 
 for his " share " enthused him. He could 
 only stroll aimlessly about, with his hands 
 in his pockets, and, thinking of Butternut s 
 last remark, mumble mournfully to himself, 
 "Well, I will be damned!" 
 
 It was toward the end of the afternoon 
 when a little commotion started from the sol 
 diers camp at the end of the town, and an 
 awful whisper stirred the air. The cavalry 
 corporal was killed! The gallant gray, be 
 coming unmanageable and prancing sideways 
 instead of running with the line, had gone 
 down, and the wan lips of his rider would 
 never again blow a bugle. 
 
 As this news flashed along from the sol 
 diers camp, whither the dying man had been 
 
THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE 
 
 brought, the wheels o fortune were suddenly 
 stilled, the voices of the feverish multitude 
 ceased, and a pulseless, dead feeling smote 
 every breast like a cold and heavy hand. It 
 was probable that the death of no person that 
 day could have excited deeper general sor 
 row, for he was best known to all. He had 
 been the great man of the day, and the halo 
 of his importance was to follow him to the 
 grave. 
 
 The boomer and the huckster hushed their 
 cries, and, as is always true of such times, a 
 subtle feeling of stronger brotherhood per 
 vaded the air. The cowboy and the gambler 
 were strangely silent, and enemies for the 
 moment were few in this throng. The air 
 was heavy with the presence of a vast, silent 
 lamentation. 
 
 Down by the camp stood a group of mute 
 soldiers, in gleaming white trousers and cot 
 ton gloves, awaiting the sunset hour. So 
 immaculate was their attire, they might have 
 been awaiting the call for dress parade. The 
 captain, voiceless from sorrow, was moving 
 his gloved hands in advisory and pathetic 
 gestures. 
 
 317 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 At a quarter of an hour to sunset the sad 
 little procession took its way toward a hill, 
 to the chanting notes of bugle and fife and 
 the solemn rumble of the drum. As they 
 moved across the plain with measured mili 
 tary stride, they might have been a procession 
 of specters, such was their effect upon the on 
 lookers. There was none save soldiers in 
 this death-march. The grave being in full 
 view of the town, each man felt that he 
 was sufficiently present, and that to stand 
 at a distance and leave the matter to those 
 who had been nearest him was the part 
 of honor and respect. But a little com 
 pany of sorrowing cowboys, with bared 
 heads, could not forbear blending with the 
 drum and fife a few strains from a song of 
 lament. 
 
 These sounds reaching Butternut, retired 
 in his tent in the distance, struck cold to his 
 heart. Some one had told him that the cav 
 alryman who had ridden the gray was being 
 buried, and though his sympathies were ever 
 strong, it was like adding another weight to 
 his own woes a sinister scheme of Destiny to 
 impress him with his own desolation. To him 
 
 318 
 
THE SOUNDS OF A DIRGE 
 
 this solemn chanting of fife and drum was not 
 over the grave of the corporal, but over that 
 other grave, back on the prairie, that Billy 
 had told him of, the grave of the Whippoor- 
 will, the destroyer of his love and life, where 
 fore was he again plunged into the sea of self- 
 pity. To have erred unwittingly in the begin 
 ning was bad enough, and now to err con 
 sciously by following the lead of his impulse 
 was something he determined to put among 
 the things impossible, preserving untarnished 
 the gospels of his heart. Taking her view 
 point as his own, he saw, between his un 
 wholesome past and the white standards of 
 the Girl from Missouri, a chasm of contrast 
 which made the trail hopeless. So farther and 
 farther from him, under the passing strains of 
 this dirge, she seemed moving, while some 
 where in his mind, along the black wall of his 
 despair, flashed crimson pictures of their 
 hours together, their first meeting, the Green 
 Fork dance, the ride on the River Road. 
 Even these happy memories seemed now in 
 the grasp of fantoms, and it was like the 
 knell of his own doom to hear the cowboys 
 singing: 
 
 3 J 9 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Bury me not on the lone prairie, 
 
 Where the wild coyotes may howl o er me, 
 
 Where the rattlesnake glides to his cottonwood lair, 
 But they took no heed to his dying prayer; 
 
 In a narrow grave just six by three, 
 
 They buried him there on the lone prairie." 
 
 Billy, returning from his errand to town, 
 and slinking through the opening in the tent, 
 found him there, his lone figure dim in the 
 evening half-light bowed upon the table, 
 his head in his arms. 
 
 320 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 Six weeks later. You would scarcely 
 know the town of Perry now, compared to 
 its appearance on the day of its birth. It is 
 a real city. There are not more than a score 
 of tents in sight, and these belong chiefly to 
 wandering mountebanks, gamblers, and for 
 tune-tellers, who can not be counted as citi 
 zens. The pink-lemonade men have been 
 dispersed by the cooler weather, but if the 
 wind is toward you as you near the town you 
 can smell the roasting peanuts for a mile. 
 The florid man with the baseballs and dolls 
 is still here, beaming enticingly while he vol 
 leys his remarks at the passing populace. 
 
 Both the residence and business portions 
 are a delight to the eye. Squares as nicely 
 platted as a chess-board, streets as straight 
 as bowling-alleys, a bank, post-office, depot, 
 " hotel," and half a dozen stores already 
 
 321 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 erected, buildings of all sizes, most of them 
 unpainted and many unfinished all contrive 
 to present a pleasing example of the wonders 
 of enterprise. The air is thick with the signs 
 and sounds of industry, and with the cries of 
 the venders and fakirs are now blended the 
 clatter of new lumber, stacked in piles by the 
 teamsters hauling it from the railroad, and 
 the shouts of the joiners, while the rhythmic 
 noises of the hammer and the saw are every 
 where. 
 
 At one of the three corners facing the 
 half-built court-house is the provision mar 
 ket, displaying a resplendent array of " cuts " 
 and game, at another you can find " dry-goods 
 and groceries," and at the last is a thriving 
 saloon, with swinging green doors and a 
 brand-new walnut bar, with a brass foot-rod 
 running the length of it, enabling the thirsty 
 citizen to drink in the attitude of a man 
 ascending a stair. And all these places are 
 alive to overflowing. 
 
 Billy and the Lambkin, at the end of the 
 first week following the opening, had pros 
 pered beyond their wildest speculations, and 
 were developing a fine taste in the matter of 
 
 322 
 
THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 cigars. At the close of the third week they 
 had disposed of part of their claim for town- 
 lots at " fancy" prices, while the value of their 
 remaining acres had gone far into the thou 
 sands. Now, after six weeks, having rein 
 vested wisely the proceeds of all sales as fast 
 as received, they possessed each a fair for 
 tune, and the Lambkin was a director of the 
 bank. 
 
 They had also profited largely from their 
 negotiations in behalf of others, for while 
 Butternut wrote a bold and graceful hand 
 and had a flow of speech that was fascinat 
 ing, Billy, who had included some law in his 
 studies, had a mighty shrewd eye for running 
 over a paper. 
 
 " Buyin and sellin isn t in my line, Will 
 iam," the Lambkin had said, " but if you ll 
 be the brains o the concern, I ll try to keep 
 up the interest." 
 
 Thus many an able lawyer, with a real 
 license, was obliged to look on with pocketed 
 hands while the line of hungry investors 
 curved like a tidal-wave to the land-office of 
 Jones & White. 
 
 Butternut, to the great delight of Billy, 
 
 323 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 had brightened up wonderfully within the 
 last few weeks. There had been a time when 
 he could only wander morosely about, like a 
 man with weights in his shoes, with an un 
 feeling eye, save for the things his memory 
 held, and even ceasing for a while to give 
 attention to his dress, but of late there had 
 been a change. He had bought a neat-fitting 
 civilian s suit, and the ecstatic Billy could 
 not mistake it there was a sympathetic 
 speech in his eye. Butternut was becoming 
 cheerful, as many another has done, from 
 necessity. The same immutable law which 
 caused an agonized woman, down in Texas, 
 to turn in helpless appeal to the blandish 
 ments of a man of small soul, made the Lamb 
 kin now put his dead heart in the background 
 and seek forgetfulness in the excitement of 
 gathering a fortune. 
 
 He was helped greatly in this by the ab 
 sence of anything in his environment which 
 might bear a relationship to other days. He 
 had heard once from the Berry boys they 
 had "proved" two claims farther up the 
 Strip, and in consequence were prospering 
 but aside from this letter there had been 
 
 324 
 
THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 nothing to bring to him the slightest reminder 
 of the past. 
 
 On a certain afternoon, during a quiet in 
 business, Billy was " keeping office," and the 
 Lambkin, down the street, was idly patron 
 izing the man with the baseballs and dolls, 
 while a laughing crowd looked on. As he 
 missed for the third time the loafers grew 
 hilarious. 
 
 " Git on to his curves!" 
 " D ye think he could hit a barn?" 
 " Might, if he t row d a hay-stack or a 
 balloon." 
 
 Then a slow, familiar voice spoke: 
 " Better try a lasso, Butternut." 
 The utterance of his half-forgotten name 
 made him wheel instantly, to see at his shoul 
 der, regarding him affably, a swarthy man 
 with a menacing eye, the vicious expression of 
 which was ludicrously contradicted by the 
 rest of his face. 
 
 " Turtle Mose, by the Jumpin Hills! " 
 
 There followed a hearty hand-shake, a 
 
 few delighted words of comradeship, then 
 
 a hurried adjournment to the establishment 
 
 with swinging doors, where they discovered 
 
 325 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 a gap at the walnut bar, and a conversation 
 prolonged and luxurious ensued. 
 
 Mose, in the beginning, did most of the 
 talking, for Butternut had finally reached that 
 stage when he could listen not only with calm 
 ness but with a moderate delight to such in 
 telligence as it now became the Turtle to 
 divulge. Mose had quit the ranch just one 
 week before, and he was therefore " loaded 
 to the muzzle " with news. Fie confined his 
 discourse, however, to the Circle-B and its 
 environs. Certain information he had gath 
 ered the night of the " blow-out " at the Twin 
 Bar told him that on some points it were 
 wiser for him not to touch, so between the 
 times of disposing of the tall, foaming glasses 
 with which Butternut supplied him he talked 
 only on topics which were safe. True, he felt 
 obliged to inform his friend that he had trans 
 ferred his dog over to Twin Bar as directed, 
 but he did this innocently, and got quickly 
 back to other themes. 
 
 " Scotty s moved his things into your 
 cabin, an is takin keer o your books, an the 
 boys air lookin after Biz; but I reckon 
 they ve all got a good lickin laid up fer you 
 
 326 
 
THE TURTLE iMAKES A SPEECH 
 
 fer tearin off so all-fired sudden, an never 
 a letter sayin where you was. McCormick 
 specially is achin to take you in hand, an 
 only t other night I hyern Talbot tellin his 
 wife that the old ranch was like a alkali 
 desert since you quit us." 
 
 An instant the Lambkin felt a vapor be 
 fore his eyes, a persistent obstruction in his 
 throat. How fitting were these words to his 
 own desolate heart, but withal it was not un 
 pleasant to hear them. He tried to narrow 
 his recollection to his comrades of the Cir- 
 cle-B, to his many buoyant discussions with 
 Scotty, tried not to think of the River Road, 
 but it was useless. Memory and inclination 
 were too much for him. 
 
 "The Twin Bar, Mose hasn t changed 
 hands, has she? " 
 
 " Naw, but it s mighty lonesome over thar 
 since Cap n Kitty an her folks shook the 
 place. Her uncle, ye know, had to be in 
 Washin ton this month, an she an her aunt 
 went back to Kansas City. I think the ranch 
 is for sale." 
 
 The Turtle spoke very carelessly, while 
 he gazed intently at his glass. He did not 
 
 327 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 dare look the Lambkin in the eye lest his own 
 should reveal all that the pallid, suffering 
 face of a woman had told him the night of 
 Reddy Tums s story. 
 
 Butternut had found a spot on the bar 
 which was not overflowed, and was making 
 some figures on the back of an envelope. 
 
 " Fifteen twenty-five forty Yes, by 
 sellin out everything I ought to be able to 
 buy it." 
 
 " Buy what, Lambkin? " 
 
 " The Twin Bar." 
 
 This quiet statement caused the Turtle to 
 set down his half-emptied glass, while his 
 eyes grew as large as lemons. 
 
 " Buy the Twin Bar you! Lambkin, air 
 ye plumb crazy? " 
 
 " Not exactly, Mose. Just crazy enough 
 to hand em over the money any time, unless 
 they ve raised the price. Would you like to 
 go back to Texas and work for me? " 
 
 The Turtle was still shaking his head 
 skeptically, so the Lambkin, with boyish 
 pride, drew a fat bank-book from his pocket 
 and showed him some footings. The bank 
 book alone, being an article which to the Tur- 
 
 328 
 
THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 tie s mind bespoke colossal sums, was enough 
 to satisfy him, but by way of gaining time in 
 which to suppress a tendency to explode, he 
 bent over the figures like a schoolboy over a 
 puzzle. When finally he lifted his head, his 
 cheeks were still puffed out, until the explo 
 sion seemed imminent. 
 
 " Don t you reckon I can buy it, Mose? " 
 mildly inquired the Lambkin. 
 
 The Turtle with difficulty allowed his 
 gathered wind to escape noiselessly, but he 
 could not refrain from rising on the brass 
 foot-rod and pounding the bar with his fist, 
 while he uttered such prolonged and ve 
 hement ejaculations of joy that the observant 
 barkeeper, as well as some of the imbibing 
 citizens, viewed him with apprehension until 
 a quiet glance from the Lambkin assured 
 them. 
 
 "Shoot me fer a lizard!" screeched the 
 delighted cowboy. " Skin me fer a jack- 
 rabbit! Saddle me to a bull s tail an start 
 me over the prairie! If this don t squash 
 me! Butternut Jones buyin the Twin Bar! 
 Smoke me if I couldn t jest jump the Pecos 
 at her widest point! What ll Talbot do? 
 What ll Scotty think? What ll Jimsey say? 
 22 329 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Will I work fer ye, Lambkin! I ll do any 
 thing fer you if you ll only let me be aroun 
 when they hyer this! " 
 
 Butternut s heart glowed at this exhibi 
 tion of honest joy. He not only assured the 
 Turtle that if the trade was made his wish 
 should be fulfilled, but he presented the cow 
 boy with a check for a hundred dollars and 
 invited him to supper at the " hotel," where 
 they could talk it over. 
 
 " Come up to my office in an hour," said 
 the Lambkin, snapping his watch. " I want 
 you to meet my partner and see some o our 
 possessions before we feed." 
 
 He then bought the Turtle a good cigar, 
 and, turning, left the cowpuncher gaping 
 after him until his tall figure vanished 
 through the swinging doors. 
 
 Proceeding at once to a news-stall, the 
 Lambkin purchased a Kansas City paper, 
 and glanced hurriedly through the advertise 
 ment section. Sure enough, in the " Land " 
 column, he found the following: 
 
 " FOR SALE. 60,000 acres grazing-land, 
 well stocked, in Val Verde County, Texas, 
 
 330 
 
THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 between Devil s River and the Pecos, 23 miles 
 north of the Southern Pacific. Apply to Car 
 son Mills, Agent, Kansas City." 
 
 " The Twin Bar, sure as shootin ," quoth 
 the Lambkin. 
 
 He moved to the edge of the street, and 
 ran a satisfied eye over as much of the town 
 of Perry as lay within his range. He owned 
 the building in which was the saddlery op 
 posite, as well as a half-interest in the mar 
 ket-house, a block farther down the street, 
 and he was a director in the Bank of Per 
 ry. He even owned stock in the railroad 
 company, one of whose trains was at that 
 moment puffing out from the little green sta 
 tion. 
 
 " I reckon I could buy it," he mused, 
 " but I d have to sell out, and I ve got a 
 mighty good thing here." 
 
 He walked thoughtfully to his office, 
 where he found Billy, his feet elevated in 
 the window-frame while he absorbed the 
 evening Bugle. The door and windows were 
 open, for the afternoons were not yet too cool 
 for that. Greeting his partner cheerily, the 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 Lambkin turned to his desk and began to fig 
 ure in earnest. 
 
 The air held a feeling of activity and new 
 ness, but he was oblivious. The cries of the 
 workmen, the kink-kink of a blacksmith at 
 the far end of town, the pungent smell of 
 shavings and smoke, blending with the per 
 fumed breath of the prairies and coming in 
 to him like an incense, were things he heeded 
 not. 
 
 For perhaps half an hour had he been 
 engrossed in calculations, when a swarthy 
 man with a vicious eye came tearing along 
 the street like a frantic bull, at a speed which 
 knocked all obstacles out of his way, while 
 his gaze swept both sides of the thoroughfare 
 for the sign-board of Jones & White. His 
 menacing eye lighting presently on the object 
 of his search, he seemed to double his already 
 remarkable pace, and a minute later, lumber 
 ing through the door and blowing like a por 
 poise, he confronted the man who had said 
 he might buy the Twin Bar. Billy drew his 
 feet from the window-sill and started toward 
 the intruder, but the fellow was talking now, 
 and he did not interrupt. 
 
 332 
 
THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 "Lambkin! Lambkin!" wheezed the 
 Turtle. "Ain t you hyeerd? I jest met the 
 Shuffler, an he says he says the Whip ivill 
 is dead! " 
 
 Butternut had half-risen from his chair in 
 his interest, but he at once resumed his sitting 
 posture, and his brow clouded impatiently as 
 he said: 
 
 " Shucks, Mose. I thought you had some 
 news." 
 
 Then the Turtle screamed: 
 
 " News! Gawd Almighty, Lambkin, if 
 that ain t news to you, then all I kin say is, 
 what you doin here with Cap n Kitty jest 
 dyin fer love of you " 
 
 The Lambkin was on his feet instantly, 
 and had the Turtle by the shoulders, his heart 
 beating wildly. 
 
 "What s the matter with you, Mose? " 
 
 And the Turtle saw that he knew what 
 his friend did not; therefore he gabbled on 
 with ecstatic defiance: 
 
 " Nawthin s the matter with me ceptin 
 I know a whole lot, an what I know best is 
 that I wouldn t treat a coyote like you re 
 a-treatin her! Reckon I wasn t at Jimsey s 
 
 333 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 blow-out the night she fainted plumb cold 
 after hearin o the Whip will Reddy Turns, 
 drunker n a fool, blabbin on you to the whole 
 gang! Reckon I didn t see her turn all white 
 as a ghost w r hen she hyern you was a married 
 man! An when I follered her to the house 
 to tell her I d brought your dawg, didn t she 
 turn all cold ag in when I said you was gone 
 an that wooden-headed city feller tryin to 
 do the soothin act an she wouldn t hev it at 
 all ! Lambkin, you make me sick/ " 
 
 Butternut, seeing there was no questioning 
 this man s earnestness, as he listened to the 
 broken words was at first stupefied, speech 
 less, his surprised senses failing to compre 
 hend, then gradually there warmed into his 
 blood a tranquil song of delight. He felt his 
 dead heart alive again with sudden fire, his 
 pulses tingled with the vital glow of living, 
 his whole figure vibrated with the immensity 
 of his joy. Somewhere in his leaping brain 
 a voice went singing a. strain the like of which 
 he had never heard, but which is the Ian- 
 guage of all Nature, the white rose of a 
 nation s night. It seemed to be telling him 
 that he was no longer the mere owner of a 
 
 334 
 
THE TURTLE MAKES A SPEECH 
 
 part of the town of Perry, but that he pos 
 sessed the earth, and accordingly he went 
 reaching for his property. Through the open 
 windows came the autumn fragrance of the 
 prairies, and the clarion sounds of industry 
 spoke a new tongue to him. The clatter and 
 call of the teamsters stacking lumber reached 
 him in a voice he understood, the rhythmic 
 noises of the hammer and the saw filled his 
 soul with glad music, and even a puffing old 
 engine in the railroad yard seemed to gather 
 the burden of his song: 
 She had loved him! 
 
 335 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 IN MISSOURI 
 
 THE walls of the office of Mr. Carson 
 Mills, realty and rental agent, Kansas City, 
 bespoke plainly the nature of the negotiations 
 there conducted. They were spotted with 
 pictures of cities and sites, and suburban 
 charts and maps, and the long counter was 
 profusely strewn with catalogues, directories, 
 and railroad folders. 
 
 Mr. Mills, a middle-aged, quick-voiced 
 man, with that geniality of expression which 
 always goes with spectacles, sat alertly in his 
 revolving-chair, and while he made some 
 figures on a pad, conversed confidently with 
 Mr. Richard Thorne, who had been so long 
 one of his most valued patrons that their ac 
 quaintance was a little more than a matter of 
 mere business. Outside, as they talked, the 
 hundred noises of an active city were a con 
 stant discordant rumble. It was mid-after- 
 
 336 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 noon, when the sounds of traffic were highest, 
 so that the two men were obliged to fre 
 quently bend nearer each other in order to 
 be heard. 
 
 Thorne was with difficulty hiding an ex 
 pression of being bored. It was always a 
 torture for him to make these periodical visits 
 to Mills, but he regarded it as a sort of 
 necessity that he should once in a while pose 
 as a man of business by way of retaining the 
 agent s respect. Accordingly he was assum 
 ing a vital interest in the remarks of that 
 gentleman, who of course was shrewd enough 
 to give no sign that he understood. 
 
 " You say you have sold the Cawthorn 
 property? " questioned the patron. 
 
 " Yes, sir. You ll find it in my statement 
 for the month." 
 
 " Well, I wish you would apply the pro 
 ceeds to improving the Huxley place. The 
 tenant, I understand, is complaining." 
 
 The last report of Mr. Mills showed that 
 the Huxley house had been put in thorough 
 repair, but the agent knew that his patron 
 had not looked at the statement, and so he 
 replied, airily: 
 
 337 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " All right, sir." 
 
 After a few moments of similar discourse 
 Mr. Mills tactfully turned the conversation 
 to something more agreeable. 
 
 " How are things at the bluff house? " he 
 inquired, with a wink, Thome s special in 
 terest in the Ramsgate residence being not 
 unknown to the agent. 
 
 Thome s passive face scarcely changed. 
 The woman he thought he loved had at last 
 promised to marry him, but that had been at 
 least a week ago, and he had grown so used 
 to the thought that it had become common 
 place. With the flavor of uncertainty gone, 
 he found the affair strangely lacking in ex 
 citement. Still he was interested enough to 
 have gone over this very afternoon and invited 
 her to join his launch-party to-night, though 
 he had not been consumed with regret when 
 she declined. To the banter of the agent he 
 replied, with just the glimmer of a smile: 
 
 " The thing s settled at last." 
 
 Mr. Mills, who had seen the announce 
 ment in the papers, at once extended his hand 
 with a beaming face, as if the intelligence 
 were fresh to him : 
 
 338 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 "Well, I ll be quit-claimed! This is 
 news! Accept my best, sir. I m devilish 
 glad. When s she coming off? " 
 
 " The twentieth, I believe. You re down 
 for a card." 
 
 " Thanks. Stupendously obliged, I m 
 sure. James!" 
 
 A young man with a green shade over his 
 eyes, who had been diligently plugging on a 
 typewriter at the front of the office, reached 
 the counter by a squirrel-like movement, the 
 quick eye of Mr. Mills having sighted a 
 caller at the door a slender, well-dressed 
 man, in whose bearing there was something 
 which suggested his newness to the city, yet 
 whose very suppleness of carriage and tran 
 quil eye as he entered expressed his perfect 
 assurance. He nodded civilly to the clerk, in 
 a way which said that his business was with 
 the proprietor, and leaning supinely against 
 the counter sent a roving gaze over the maps 
 on the wall. 
 
 The Lambkin s days in the town of Perry 
 had been few since the interesting disclosure 
 of the Turtle had brought an abrupt change 
 in all his fine gospels. With the knowledge 
 
 339 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 that the Girl from Missouri had loved him, 
 there was an even chance that she loved him 
 still, much as she might have struggled to dis 
 own it, and there had been something in this 
 thought which caused him to promptly for 
 give himself and to understand that while 
 weaknesses in the eyes of good women are not 
 commendable, there are some flaws in a man s 
 conduct which a woman who loves him may 
 be persuaded to overlook. However, his gaze 
 was now centered lovingly on a map of Texas, 
 and for the time he was keenly interested in 
 real estate. It was a felicitous method of the 
 resourceful agent to insert a tack in each 
 locality where he was prepared to buy or 
 sell, and the Lambkin s eye, following the 
 line of the Southern Pacific westward to the 
 Pecos, lit upon one of these indicators planted 
 in the heart of Val Verde County. He was 
 evidently in the right place. 
 
 At the rear of the office there was a mo 
 ment when the polite face of Dick Thorne 
 seemed suddenly to have turned to bronze, 
 but immediately he was himself again, and 
 thankful for the providence which had placed 
 him on his guard. While the clothes were 
 
 340 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 new, he had instantly recognized the familiar 
 face and figure which, though attractions he 
 had once praised, he now hated as intensely 
 as his narrow nature would permit. Not, by 
 any means, that they had lost color in his 
 eyes, but merely because their possessor had 
 once figured as the object of a devotion, from 
 a certain quarter, of a quality that he had 
 never been able to inspire. Why, confound 
 it, but for the lucky circumstance of a pre 
 vious complication, she would have married 
 him! It was an insult. Of course she had 
 finally gotten over it, but the sting was there. 
 He began to take the innocent presence of 
 the visitor at the counter as nothing less than 
 a bit of personal impertinence which intensi 
 fied the elation he had always felt in the 
 cowboy s peculiar helplessness. As he strode 
 from the office, his " business " ended, Butter 
 nut greeted him with a breezy " Hello! " and 
 was about to extend his hand, but as Thome s 
 gaze was frozen on the door, while he gave 
 no sign, the Lambkin turned at once to the 
 counter, both the snub and the man forgotten 
 instantly. 
 
 The genial Mr. Mills waddled his fat 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 legs along the inner side of the railing, and 
 beamed commercially on the newcomer. 
 
 " Buying or selling, sir? " 
 
 " Why," said the Lambkin, his gaze again 
 on Val Verde County, " I was thinkin o 
 takin that ranch off your hands, but I notice 
 you ve got it nailed." 
 
 The broadening smile of the agent became 
 less commercial. Here was a man of such 
 contrast to the one who had just left him as 
 to delight his soul. 
 
 " Staked, sir staked is the word. Noth 
 ing in this office is nailed." 
 
 It required very few moments for him to 
 understand that his caller meant business, and 
 he thereupon for a quarter of an hour wagged 
 an eloquent tongue in behalf of the attractions 
 of the property in question. And though he 
 told many wonderful lies in support of his 
 claims and got his localities sadly mixed (not 
 limiting his range to things on the map), the 
 mild-mannered Lambkin murmured never a 
 word of dissent, but viewed him with an in 
 terest so transfixed that the agent experienced 
 a pleasant thrill at his own powers. 
 
 " The finest grazing section in all Texas, 
 342 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 sir less than twenty miles from the rail 
 road to say nothing of her incomparable 
 water facilities Devil s River touching her 
 at four points " 
 
 " Must have twisted round considerably," 
 thought the Lambkin. Still the interest in 
 his eye never flagged, for though he had no 
 intention of closing with the agent, he did 
 want other information. 
 
 " Now the senator told me " he began, 
 reflectively. 
 
 "The senator! You know Mr. Rams- 
 gate?" 
 
 " Oh, quite well. Don t he ever come 
 home these days? " 
 
 His tone indicated that one of the strong 
 est reasons for his presence in the city was 
 the hope that he might find the senator at 
 home. 
 
 " Never, sir. Sticks to Washington like 
 a leech. Well, I ll be quit-claimed! Never 
 suspected you knew them. Been over to the 
 house?" 
 
 " Why, no if they re not at home " 
 
 " Oh, his niece is there, and I guess she s 
 having a lonesome time of it, for the old 
 
 343 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 lady s away, too." And he added, with a 
 wink of cordiality, for he was singularly 
 drawn to this man, " her fiance won t bother 
 you, either he s off fixing for a boat-party. 
 Ha! ha!" 
 
 His gaze was carelessly in another quar 
 ter, as a man s gaze naturally travels when he 
 laughs, so he did not see the instant s pallor 
 of the Lambkin s face. 
 
 " Her fiance?" 
 
 " Yes, the guy that snubbed you. It s in 
 the papers. All set for the twentieth." 
 
 The blow would have been less vicious, of 
 course, if he had been in any degree expect 
 ing it; but since the night at the Upper Ford, 
 when the key to the secret places of her na 
 ture seemed to have been given him, he had 
 never found it possible to regard Thorne as 
 an obstacle. Through all the hopes and fears 
 accompanying his swift journey to Missouri, 
 following the speech of Turtle Mose, the 
 cry of his heart had been, Will she let me 
 see her? Will she forgive me? Can I make 
 her love me? " the background of his mind 
 holding no shadow of a man of fashion. But 
 now there flashed home to him the utter rea- 
 
 344 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 sonableness, the perfect naturalness of a turn 
 in Thome s favor. She had had her day of 
 loving fantoms, and it was not surprising 
 that she should adopt a liberal view toward 
 a tangible and healthy object, who could not 
 only at all times keep his best foot foremost, 
 but who had not married a Whippoorwill 
 especially considering that loneliness with 
 old age is not the violent desire of youth. 
 Accordingly, at the careless words of Mr. 
 Mills, the Lambkin turned cold to the -scalp, 
 that steadiness of nerve so strong a factor of 
 his nature almost forsaking him. It was like 
 the snapping of the final strand in his rope 
 of hope. An instant the surrounding furni 
 ture seemed bobbing like things afloat, and 
 the charts and pictures on the wall became a 
 procession of grimacing dervishes dancing in 
 time to the din in the street. But after that 
 first flash of pallor, unnoticed by the agent, 
 the woe of his heart was shown not in his face. 
 His eye held nothing more than a light of 
 quizzical surprise, and his voice was even 
 and serene as he said: 
 
 "That so? Then I reckon I had better 
 offer congratulations. So, if you ll just let 
 23 345 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 our trade go till to-morrow, I ll wander over 
 to the house. They haven t moved lately, 
 have they? " 
 
 " No. Quickest way is to keep right out 
 the avenue till you strike the boulevard, 
 where you ll see the place on the bluff just 
 across the bridge. You ll know it easy a 
 yellow house with a cupola." 
 
 The Lambkin thanked him, laid his card 
 on the counter, and strolled into the street. 
 But instead of following the avenue, he 
 walked aimlessly in another direction. His 
 mind was revolving confusedly. The noises 
 of the streets to his throbbing brain were like 
 a hundred tumults, but he was heedless to 
 passing vehicles and men. Since the revela 
 tion of the Turtle he had given his long-re 
 strained ardor a free rein, that lamblike as 
 surance which was his by nature making him 
 feel that he had merely to journey to his re 
 ward. To have the folly of his faith then 
 brought home to him was an experience 
 which in bitterness was equaled by nothing on 
 the calendar of his past. Slowly, listlessly, he 
 wandered twice around a square, and once 
 he entered a door guarded by a wooden In- 
 
 346 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 dian, but though he was smoking when he 
 came out he was not conscious of it. So his 
 last wild hope had come to this! And after 
 the speech of the Turtle had lifted him so 
 high, it was hard, so hard to fall! He looked 
 forward into the years and saw a desolate 
 world through which he must journey joyless, 
 with no buoy-lights for his heart s rest and 
 for his lonely feet a forgotten, unblazed trail. 
 By that reflex mind-action whose faculty is 
 always to present pictures contrary to our 
 moods, he found himself recalling those de 
 lights of his childhood which were most mem 
 orable his first sight of a steamboat, for ex 
 ample, or certain days of splendor in his home 
 village days of barbecues and circuses, of 
 glittering tin pageants. From time to time 
 he paused at the intersection of a street run 
 ning toward the river, and sent a piteous 
 eye beyond the sky of windows and roofs 
 and telegraph wires to where he knew 
 she lived. He thought of the day she had 
 come into his cabin, filling the room and his 
 heart with joy of the lovable grace with 
 which she sat a horse of the countless ways 
 which made her dear to him. 
 
 347 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " If I could see her without frightening 
 her," he mused hopefully, " I reckon there d 
 be a chance in a hundred. But, by God! 
 they ve set the day! " 
 
 As that thought would flash over him it 
 would leave him beaten and crushed, and he 
 would resolve to find his hotel and quit the 
 town at once. He would go back to Okla 
 homa and resume the old business of losing 
 himself he would work and forget. But 
 each time he moved in this direction a voice 
 in his heart would stop him before he had 
 traversed a square. Must he consider himself 
 alone? Must he not consider her, and while 
 there was a possibility of her deceiving her 
 self into marrying a worthless man, was it not 
 the part of gallantry and honor for him to 
 intercede to risk humiliation for her sake? 
 Bosh! On what sort of a pinnacle was he 
 putting himself? Maybe she had never 
 cared for him! Maybe the Turtle had been 
 blind! Or if she had, it was likely she had 
 dutifully forgotten it so why confront her 
 like a ghost? 
 
 He wheeled resolutely for the last time 
 and strode toward his hotel, determined not 
 
 348 
 
IN MISSOURI 
 
 to change his mind again, but to keep to the 
 course he knew was best. But always in his 
 heart a voice kept saying: 
 
 " A hundredth chance a hundredth 
 chance!" 
 
 349 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 BALANCE ALL 
 
 THE surroundings of the yellow house on 
 the bluff presented nothing more than the 
 everlasting sameness common to the tastes of 
 rich men. The yard held the usual number 
 of diagrams in color, two shaped like an " S," 
 an anchor and a star; there was the fountain 
 playing with the same old constancy, and 
 there was Venus on one leg, beckoning to the 
 postman. 
 
 In a corner room, up-stairs, Catherine was 
 dividing her time between nervously finger 
 ing the various articles within her reach and 
 periodically visiting the window to listlessly 
 view the ebbing waters of the Missouri. Her 
 declination of Richard s invitation she knew 
 had not been due to any lack of consideration 
 for him; she was simply in one of her nature- 
 saddened moods when society irritated her. 
 Such hours were new to Catherine, and she 
 
 350 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 had not yet learned the best way to get 
 through them. 
 
 She opened book after book, but it was 
 life, not books, she wanted. She tried letter- 
 writing, seeking to bring herself closer to the 
 few friends she valued, but the cold blue 
 paper and unfeeling slanting scratches failed 
 to give back the warm human response for 
 which she hungered. 
 
 Again she went to the window, her eye 
 dropping from ledge to ledge, and down to 
 the yellow waters, whose smooth flow seemed 
 to bear her instantly to a narrower and redder 
 stream winding remotely below a higher 
 bluff, with the mountains beyond it, and along 
 which spiritedly rode a girl too happy and in 
 terested in all things to suspect that life could 
 know the emptiness of the present hour. Then 
 another horse cantered beside hers, and a gen 
 tle face, with humor like a sun tempering its 
 gravity, was turned to her own with a look 
 that surely bespoke the innocence and sin 
 cerity of an untainted heart. And then 
 always at last rose the contradictory picture 
 of a ribald cowboy (she had apparently 
 learned to forget his name, for always in her 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 memory he was " the cowboy") wooing a 
 tavern wench, with horror-striking details 
 that made her shrink and curtain the eye of 
 mind to open it again on the only world 
 that could ever be hers, the world of Richard 
 Thorne. Heaven help her to be loyal to her 
 new obligations, and teach these ghosts that 
 would come in spite of her to know their time 
 and place. With this prayer in mind she 
 turned from the window with an outward 
 briskness and determination apparently cor 
 responding to some resolution within, and go 
 ing to her desk wrote a note to Richard, say 
 ing that she had reconsidered and would 
 be glad to join the boating-party. As she 
 dropped the pen at the end, the door-bell 
 rang. 
 
 " A Mr. Phillips, mum," said the maid. 
 " Come to see about the ranch. Says the 
 agent couldn t answer his questions. Showed 
 him in the drawin -room, mum." 
 
 Catherine, leaving the unsealed note on 
 her desk, descended the stair with something 
 like a living interest at her heart. She would 
 hurry this interview to an end that she might 
 the earlier prepare for the evening s enjoy- 
 
 352 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 ment. Society sometimes was not wholly dis 
 tasteful, and certainly Richard was not always 
 tiresome. She would learn to like both even 
 more, and life, perhaps, would yet afford her 
 a fair measure of content. As she entered 
 the room, a man who had been standing 
 in shadow took a single step toward her, 
 the action bringing him fair into the light. 
 An instant she was in doubt whether to credit 
 her sight, then, with a frightened gasp, would 
 have turned to fly had not her astonishment 
 held her powerless. 
 
 Before her, tall, tranquil, always gentle, 
 stood the cowboy! 
 
 He was slightly pale, but the fractional 
 impression of the old assuring smile as he 
 looked at her, as well as the confident bear 
 ing of his whole figure bent a little forward 
 in a respectful half-bow confirmed the truth 
 that, whatever were his emotions, he could 
 always be self-possessed. 
 
 She shrank back with a little alarmed cry, 
 but instantly there was that in his eye, a light 
 of pained surprise, which filled her with 
 burning self-reproach. She had nothing to 
 fear from this man, who could never pre- 
 353 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 sume, never be familiar, or, above all, at such 
 a time take advantage of a previous relation 
 ship. 
 
 " Mr. Phillips!" she cried at last, seek 
 ing relief in an assumption of resentment. 
 
 His smile broadened just perceptibly 
 enough to show that he sought to reassure 
 her, then he spoke, in his unvaryingly tran 
 quil voice : 
 
 " Miss Thurston, I believe. I ll bet forty 
 dollars you weren t lookin for me!" 
 
 There was not the slightest eagerness in 
 his speech, but then he could be amazingly 
 cordial while imparting to his level tones 
 nothing more than the courteously deferen 
 tial. She felt a quality in his voice that 
 seemed to bespeak the perfect security with 
 which she might offer him her hand, and it 
 brought a strange tremor of peace to her 
 heart. 
 
 "Won t you sit down?" she asked, hos 
 pitably, motioning to a chair by the river 
 window, but he went and stood by it instead. 
 Then instantly her fright leaped to the sur 
 face again, and she faltered: 
 
 "You you came to to " 
 
 354 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 " I came after Boodler, ma am." 
 
 Divine Lambkin! Who could fail to be 
 at ease in your wonderful presence? He had 
 come to tell her of his love, to tell her of the 
 Whip poo rwill, but he was not the man to 
 touch upon the language of his heart until 
 he had made her smile. And then he would 
 do so gradually oh, so gently, and with such 
 diabolical craft that she would never know 
 that he was conscious of her disadvantage. 
 
 " Boodler is not here/ she said, and she 
 was smiling now. " I left him with Jimsey." 
 
 "Yes? I m glad o that. He ll be on 
 hand then when I go down. Fine view you 
 have here." He looked across the river at 
 the sunset, then leaning from the window sent 
 an admiring eye up and down the muddy 
 Missouri. " Mighty bold stream, isn t she? 
 Bigger than the Pecos; but don t you miss 
 the mountains? " 
 
 Tender spot, Lambkin, the Pecos, for 
 there lies the River Road where love first 
 dawned ! 
 
 "I do, indeed," she said; "but we can t 
 have all we want. It pleases my uncle to sell 
 the place." 
 
 355 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 He inferred from this that it did not 
 please her, and rejoiced in consequence. 
 
 " I m glad you still like the mountains. 
 I hope none of them will have moved away 
 when I get back." 
 
 The air held a feeling in perfect keeping 
 with the sentiment which now overflowed his 
 soul, the noises of the city being just remote 
 enough to emphasize the quiet of the hour. 
 Softly through the evening came the whirr 
 of distant vehicles, and the melancholy drone 
 of an electric reached him like a song of 
 sweetness. She thought it wiser not to show 
 that she had noticed the dangerous trend of 
 his last speech. 
 
 " You are really going back, then? " 
 
 " Yes m if we can make a trade." 
 
 " You have some one in mind who might 
 buy the place? " 
 
 " I was thinkin of takin it myself," he 
 drawled. 
 
 She did not know for an instant whether 
 to take him seriously, this being one of the 
 ways in which he had always been too much 
 for her; then something seemed to tell her 
 that he was in earnest. 
 
 356 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 " Thinking of taking it yourself! " she re 
 peated, bewilderedly, and he could not resist 
 the impulse to prolong her astonishment. 
 " You haven t any objections, I hope? " 
 " Why, no of course not " she stam 
 mered, blushingly. " But I I well I had 
 never supposed that you were a wealthy 
 
 man." 
 
 His serene face was changeless as he said: 
 
 " Oh, it doesn t take a very wealthy man 
 to buy a place like the Twin Bar. You see, 
 it s roily and quite rocky in places, and really 
 isn t so very rich in valley-land. Your price 
 can t be much over fifty thousand? " 
 
 Then the helpless embarrassment in her 
 face smote his conscience. 
 
 " You re quite right," he said, and she de 
 tected a touch of tenderness in his voice. " I 
 <was poor in those days so poor that I could 
 scarcely have bought a dozen cows. But I 
 hope you ll sell me the Twin Bar to-day." 
 
 He laid a little emphasis on the familiar 
 name, and being a woman, however high her 
 fears ran, she could not forbear asking: 
 
 " Why the Twin Bar especially? Are 
 there not many ranches quite as good? " 
 
 357 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " Possibly, for the mere business of rais 
 ing stock. But, you see, I m a man of some 
 sentiment, and things have happened there 
 which make it of particular value to me." 
 
 He was speaking earnestly now, while he 
 looked away from her through the window. 
 He might have made a direct appeal on first 
 entering the house, but now his thoughts were 
 dancing ungovernably instead of marching 
 along in the order he had planned, and an 
 instant he trembled in the fear that his com 
 ing might be nothing more than utter useless- 
 ness utter madness. Then a word came to 
 save him truth. He was there to speak the 
 truth and make it clear, and he would forget 
 everything else in the effort. That thought 
 would be the shore-light by which he would 
 swim. She listened in an attitude non-com 
 mittal, neither encouraging nor discouraging, 
 but she was intent and conscious of no sound 
 save the soft retrospective voice of the man 
 before her. 
 
 " I suppose," he was saying, and his heart 
 was talking now, " there are times when the 
 gentlest natures must risk causing pain to a 
 woman. While my purpose here is to buy 
 
 358 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 the Twin Bar, there is something on another 
 subject I would say to you." 
 
 " Perhaps I know," she said, softly, with 
 pity that would have spared him. 
 
 " If you do, then I am hopeless; but there 
 must be no doubt. You ve seen an old house 
 torn down its foundations laid open, the cel 
 lars and groundways uncovered, the hearth- 
 places where the family sat and whispered 
 things not meant for the world all bare and 
 gaping up. No pretty windows or vines, or 
 paint or red roof, but just the things they were 
 meant to hide. That is what you will have to 
 look at in me now. I ll hide nothing, for I 
 can t, and I reckon you ll believe me? " 
 
 She thought she said " Yes," but her lips 
 moved silently. The hour deepened unno- 
 ticeably into twilight, and neither heard the 
 muffled sounds of the city, the distant moan 
 of the vehicles, or the cries of the boatmen 
 on the river. 
 
 " I knew you would I counted on that. 
 But what you think is different. I suppose 
 I ought to begin before I was born, but I 
 won t take up your time that way. I have 
 told you something about my mother, and 
 
 359 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 how she was delicate and gentle, and little 
 and pretty, with a head full of poetry and a 
 heart full of love, and how my father was 
 rough and brave, but gentle, too, or he could 
 not have worshiped her and laid down his 
 life for her, for that s what it came to in the 
 end though I m not going to bother you 
 with that. But I want to say that I didn t get 
 any meanness from them, and if I ve got any 
 it just came by itself. But I did get notions 
 and fancies, I reckon, that don t go well with 
 bankin and storekeepin and cow-punchin, 
 and other things that folks have to spend a 
 good deal of time at in this world. . . . 
 Up to the time I was twenty I knew only one 
 woman well enough to call friend, and that 
 was my mother. At the schools I went to 
 before she got too sick for me to leave her I 
 never played with the girls, partly because 
 I was shy and partly because I couldn t feel it 
 was right for just an ordinary boy to be talkin 
 to angels. You see, I began by bein a fool, 
 and I didn t end up much better. My mother 
 was always talkin about beauty and truth 
 and poetry and love, till I believed that was 
 what the world was made of. She was a pure 
 
 360 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 being of perfect light, and while she lived 
 she filled the world for me. . . . I m not 
 tellin you this to excuse myself in any way, 
 but because it is so, and I want you to know 
 from the beginning. When she died there 
 was about enough left to keep me at college 
 for the first year, and I worked out the others. 
 It kept me pretty busy, because I had lots to 
 make up. Most of what I knew didn t count 
 there it was such a different sort. Well, I 
 wore so thin from so much study and want 
 of sleep that the doctor finally said I d have 
 to clear out, so I started for the Pecos coun 
 try. All this time I had no women friends, 
 which is what I m coming to. The Pecos 
 boys called me green, which I reckon I was, 
 and not wishin to appear unsociable or afraid 
 to follow where they led, I began to ride over 
 to the Sable Serpent." 
 
 She gave a little shudder, and slipped 
 helplessly down in the chair by which she 
 stood. He was still standing away from her, 
 while he gazed steadily through the opea 
 window. 
 
 " As I ve told you, when I was a boy I 
 held aloof from women, thinkin they were 
 24 361 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 just noble creatures God had put in the world 
 for men to wonder at. But one day I began 
 to understand what my mother had been to 
 my father, and to realize that some day one 
 of those wonderful creatures would come into 
 my life and be everything that my mother 
 was, except that she would be young and 
 could trip about and go everywhere with me. 
 I then began to look at women with a distant, 
 critic s eye, and to say that she must not be 
 like this one or that one, but at last I left off 
 wondering and trying to paint her to my soul, 
 and was content just to believe that she would 
 be the crown and glory of my life. Finally I 
 didn t care to look at women any more, for I 
 was waitin for her. That was the way I felt 
 when I began to go to the Sable Serpent. And 
 there I met a woman and this is what you 
 may not understand, for I don t think I under 
 stand it myself. I knew she was not the one, 
 but she was pretty as night when all the stars 
 are on parade, and though she laughed and 
 talked high with the others she was always 
 sweet and gentle with me, and would touch 
 my sleeve so lady-like and say she felt that I 
 respected her, and that the worst woman in 
 
 362 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 the world could save her soul if all men were 
 like me. When she would say that, and look 
 at me with the tears ready to start, and a sort 
 of clutchin at her throat, my head would 
 swim and I would feel like takin her in my 
 arms and runnin away where she would be 
 safe. I told her that if she would leave the 
 place I would protect her, but she said that 
 couldn t be unless I married her, for the 
 world would still think she wasn t respect 
 able. But I m not excusin myself. Maybe 
 it was her black hair and eyes and pink cheeks 
 that had most to do with it. Maybe I was 
 glad of a chance just then to give up the 
 dream-woman for the real one. Months 
 and years are very long to the young, especial 
 ly when they re waitin and waitin for some- 
 thin that don t come, and feel that they can t 
 begin to live till it does come. ... I 
 married her, but I reckon you ll believe me 
 when I say that she was never any more to 
 me than the incarnation of a great folly." 
 
 He paused, as if the bitterness of his 
 words made it impossible for him to speak, 
 his eyes still fixed on the window instead of 
 the motionless woman beside him. 
 
 3 6 3 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 " You you left her? " 
 
 "I would not put it in that way. When 
 her nature was revealed to me we could not do 
 other than part. But, as I said, I m not ex- 
 cusin myself. When I was untrue to my 
 ideal I was untrue to you, and the fact that I 
 didn t meet you till afterward don t make the 
 sin against you any less." 
 
 She leaned forward so silently that he, not 
 looking, did not know that she had moved. 
 Her voice to him seemed dead and unvibrant. 
 In reality it was weighed down by crushed 
 and overmuch feeling. 
 
 " You saw her afterward? " 
 
 " For a moment at a distance the day 
 she died." 
 
 She leaned back with a sound like a moan, 
 and said nothing, and he welcomed a little 
 silence. When at last she spoke it was in a 
 whisper: 
 
 "She is dead!" 
 
 He did not hear her. 
 
 " I was beginning to get easy," he went 
 on, " and accustomed to the ropes when 
 you came, and I knew I had to take my turn 
 in the ring again. I had played the clown be- 
 
 3 6 4 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 fore, but this time I was to ride wild horses. 
 The night of the dance at Green Fork the 
 night we crossed the Upper Ford I had to 
 pull like Samson to keep out of the ditch. 
 God! If I could have spoken then you would 
 have heard a heart! . . . Yes, the wild 
 horses were plungin their maddest that night. 
 . . . But I managed it. ... I reckon 
 you ll admit that I managed it." 
 
 Again he paused, the intensity of feeling 
 produced by recollection leaving him voice^ 
 less, while the burning power of his passion 
 ate words made her heart stand still. 
 
 " The mere death of the woman," he re 
 sumed, in a voice so low as to have been in 
 distinct to a listener less intent, " I know can 
 mean nothing. It is what I have done that 
 counts with women like you. . . . But 
 though life without you is life without breath, 
 though my world without you is a world with 
 out light, I shall try to do something besides 
 wait for death. I have learned better than to 
 make pictures out of a world where hearts 
 beat, blood flows, and women weep. Doing is 
 better than dying, and I ll try to get through 
 in a way that won t shame the man you looked 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 at once. Of course you do not know how I 
 love you and it s beyond my expression to 
 tell you or you would never ask why I want 
 to buy the Twin Bar. It is for a stronger rea 
 son than cattle-raising. The one woman I 
 love, and will always love, I met there, and 
 since she is forever lost to me it would please 
 me to own the place where she once lived and 
 rode and laughed where I even sometimes 
 rode beside her and, smothering the ache in 
 my heart, laughed with her while I told her 
 stories of the mountains. There are so many 
 paths there she loved to travel, so many spots 
 she loved to frequent. . . . Juno s Canon 
 and Painted Mountain are there the old 
 Piney Trail crosses the place the River 
 Road touches it Catherine! " 
 
 As he wheeled from the window there 
 was no questioning the sob which shook the 
 shrinking woman beside him. Her whole 
 form was quivering with the emotion she 
 sought vainly to suppress. Nor could there 
 be any mistaking the deep joy-light in her 
 swimming eyes as she half rose and swayed 
 impulsively, helplessly toward him. 
 
 " I I forgive you " 
 
 366 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 In an instant she was in his arms, and the 
 gentle Lambkin was at peace. 
 
 The hour was late for a man on a busi 
 ness call, but he made no move to go. He 
 preferred and it suited her to sit musingly 
 by the window and watch the lights of the 
 pleasure-boats on the river. There was quite 
 a throng of them, for these were the closing 
 days of the launching season. 
 
 " I believe you knew I loved you," she 
 said, in sudden accusation, and though it was 
 good to have him ease his conscience, she 
 could have choked him when he replied 
 serenely: 
 
 " Of course. You don t suppose I could 
 have talked like that if I hadn t known?" 
 
 Merrily upward to their window rose the 
 nautical cries of the boatmen and the laugh 
 ter and song of the pleasure-seekers. The 
 launch of " Captain " Dick Thorne, gay with 
 her many-colored deck-lights, presently came 
 puffing down, her lively passengers filling 
 the night with mirth. 
 
 " There s a man on that launch I might 
 have married," she said. 
 
 367 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 "Yes!" he mildly interjected. " He 
 seems to be having a good time That for 
 you?" 
 
 The winding note of a horn had suddenly 
 come up to them. Captain Thorne, when un 
 accompanied by his lady-love, in passing the 
 house on the bluff never failed to stand 
 prominently on deck and give a gallant sa 
 lute, and he seemed to be especially vigorous 
 this evening. 
 
 " Yes, it s his signal. I sometimes answer 
 him with this." 
 
 She took from the wall beside her a 
 pretty, gold-trimmed instrument, a present 
 from Captain Thorne for this very purpose. 
 Now, by all the gods, Lambkin, you are not 
 going to blow it! But he did. He took it 
 from her gently and blew a long, ecstatic note. 
 
 Some three weeks later a swarthy man 
 with a vicious eye rode into the confines of 
 the Twin Bar ranch, Val Verde County, 
 Texas, and handed a letter to Mr. J. Jimsey, 
 Foreman, whose gradual metamorphosis of 
 expression as he read was but little more of 
 a spectacle than the gleefully distorted fea- 
 
 368 
 
BALANCE ALL 
 
 tures of the messenger. It required a little 
 time for him to grasp all the missive said, 
 and a little longer for him to gather the 
 proper amount of faith, but when, after re 
 peated scrutinizations of the bold, familiar 
 hand, alternated with wondering glances at 
 the enraptured Turtle, now filling the air 
 with corroboration more graphic than ele 
 gant, the foreman realized that this was true, 
 his behavior was like unto seven miracles, his 
 chief desire seemingly being to defy gravity 
 and rise and ride in the air like a balloon. 
 Indeed, it was not until the Turtle took him 
 violently in hand, and, stretching him pros 
 trate, sat resolutely upon his person, that he 
 became rational and coherent. For this is 
 what he had read: 
 
 PERRY, OKLAHOMA, November 2Otb. 
 
 " MY DEAR JIMSEY: This will be handed 
 you by Mr. Turtle Mose, who will under 
 take to enlighten you upon any details about 
 which you may be curious, and which I have 
 not the time to make clear at this writing. 
 Having bought the Twin Bar, I wish to say 
 that you will in future take your orders from 
 me, though this may not be very agreeable 
 
 3 6 9 
 
BUTTERNUT JONES 
 
 news. If you will recall a recent moonlight 
 incident in Clover Gulch, near Panther Ford, 
 in which, owing to a very natural mistake, I 
 was intolerably embarrassed, and which you 
 lost no time in mentioning to every man and 
 woman in Texas, you will understand that 
 you have little to expect from me. 
 
 " As it will probably take all winter to 
 satisfactorily dispose of my interests here, I 
 shall not be down until the spring months, 
 and meanwhile you will report to me fully 
 once a week. 
 
 " Captain Kitty, who for nearly a week 
 now has been Mrs. Jones, tells me that you 
 are taking good care of Adjutant Snuffles, 
 which, I am sure, does you much credit. I 
 wish at your first opportunity you would move 
 Bismarck and Terrapin over, also get my 
 books and put them in the east room up-stairs. 
 Tell Scotty that if he has dog-eared my Lorna 
 Doone he can expect a whalin from me along 
 about April. 
 
 " Tell all the boys we are coming. 
 
 " BUTTERNUT JONES." 
 
 FINIS (4 ) 
 
 37 
 
A NOVEL OF REAL IMPORTANCE. 
 
 The Law of Life. 
 
 By ANNA McCLURE SHOLL. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 This remarkable novel presents an entirely new and a very enter 
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 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
 
"JOHN PHCENIX HERE AGAIN/ 
 
 The San, Ne<w York. 
 
 Phcenixiana. 
 
 By JOHN PHCENIX. A new edition, illustrated 
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 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
 
By MAX PEMBERTON. 
 
 A New Book by this Author. 
 
 Doctor Xavier. 
 
 Illustrated. 1 2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 For those who like a story of mystery that increases 
 from first chapter to the end there is here a book that 
 will be welcomed. The factor that makes the perpetual 
 charm of " The Arabian Nights " is employed by Mr. 
 Pemberton. The author has written a book of constantly 
 increasing interest. 
 
 In the character of Doctor Xavier, the scientist all 
 but magician is skilfully depicted, while the subordinate 
 personages lend an added air of mystery to a cleverly 
 written tale. The fact that the scenes are laid among 
 cities of the present day, and men and women of out 
 wardly conventional propriety, only adds to the sense of 
 magic underlying the story. 
 
 Other Books By Mr. Pemberton. 
 Each Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 The House Under the Sea. 
 Footsteps of a Throne. 
 The Phantom Army. 
 Kronstadt. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK 
 
POPULAR EDITIONS OF RARE AND FAMOUS BOOKS. 
 Illustrated Pocket Library of Plain and Colored Books. 
 
 This series will comprise books in themselves of literary charm and pop 
 ularity ; many of them have now become rarities, while the placing before the 
 public at a small price the excellent reproduction of the famous prints and 
 etchings, the originals of which now command fancy sums, offers an excep 
 tional treat to the lover of fine books finely issued. 
 
 The following are now ready : 
 
 Memoirs of the Life of the Late John Mytton, Esq., of Halston, 
 Shropshire, etc., etc. 
 
 With Notices of his Hunting, Shooting, Driving, Racing, Eccentric, and 
 Extravagant Exploits. By Nimrod (C. J. Apperly i. With Numerous Illus 
 trations by Henry Alken and T. J. Rawlins. A New Edition founded on the 
 Second Edition of 1837 from the New Sporting Magazine. $1.50. 
 
 This work is of the literary flavor of the kind that makes the peculiar charm in the 
 biographies of Izaak Walton. The plates alone render it a source of enjoyment to 
 the lover of the book. 
 
 Jorrocks s Jaunts and Jollities. 
 
 The Hunting, Shooting, Racing, Driving, Sailing, Eating, Eccentric, and 
 Extravagant Exploits of that Renowned Sporting Citizen, Mr. John Jorrocks, 
 of St. Botolph Lane and Great Coram Street. By R. S. Surtees. With Fif 
 teen Colored Illustrations by Henry Alken. A New Edition founded on that 
 published by R. Ackerman in the year 1843. $i-5O- 
 
 This volume is reprinted from the extremely rare and costly edition of 1843, which 
 contains Alken s very fine illustrations instead of the usual ones by Phiz. 
 
 Handley Cross; or, Mr. Jorrocks s Hunt. . 
 
 By R. S. Surtees, author of " Jorrocks s Jaunts and Jollities," etc. With 
 Seventeen Colored Illustrations and One Hundred Wood Cuts by John Leech. 
 A New Edition founded on that published by Bradbury and Evans in 1854. $1.50. 
 
 The great popularity of the inimitable Jorrocks led the author to take up, in 1854, in 
 a larger book, the further adventures of his hero. Fine colored plates are almost im 
 possible to obtain in any form, and these, together with the rollicking story, make the 
 book a welcome addition to any library. 
 
 The Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of the Picturesque. 
 
 A Poem. By William Combe. With Thirty-one Colored Illustrations 
 by Thomas Rowlandson. A New Edition founded on the Seventh Edition, 
 published in 1817. $1.50. 
 
 This volume takes its place beside Goldsmith s " Vicar of Wakcfield " in its genial 
 humanity and simplicity of soul. In the thirty-one colored plates the humor of the story 
 is ably seconded and its atmosphere of the England of the days of roadside inns and 
 pleasurable travel emphasized with the facility characteristic of Rowlandson s genius. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
 
POPULAR EDITIONS OF RARE AND FAMOUS BOOKS. 
 
 Illustrated Pocket Library of Plain and Colored Books. Continued. 
 
 Illustrations of the Book of Job. 
 
 Invented and Engraved by William Blake. A New Edition reproduced 
 in reduced fac-sirnile from the Uriginal Edition published by William Blake in 
 
 1820. 1.25. 
 
 This was Blake s last completed work, and his greatest. The original edition is 
 of great rarity, and the prices attached to all of Blake s work are steadily increasing. 
 
 The History of Johnny Quae Genus : the Little Foundling of the 
 late Doctor Syntax. 
 
 By William Combe. With Twenty-four Colored Plates by T. Rowland- 
 son. A New Edition founded on the Edition of 1822. $1.50. 
 
 In this poem is told the adventures of the Foundling of Doctor Syntax. The work 
 is a follower of those dealing with the amiable Doctor and in its original form brought 
 very high prices chiefly on account of its spirited plates. 
 
 The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 
 A Tale. By Oliver Goldsmith. With Twenty-four Colored Illustrations 
 by Thomas Rowlandson. A New Edition founded on that published by R. 
 Ackermann in the year 1817. $1.50. 
 
 _. It would be difficult to analyze the charm that has given this little book its popu 
 larity from generation to generation. Of the many beautiful editions published none 
 equals that reproduced here in typographical form or the fitness and beauty of its illus 
 trations. 
 
 The Dance of Life. 
 
 A Poem. By William Combe, the author of " Doctor Syntax," etc., etc. 
 With Twenty- six Colored Engravings by Thomas Rowlandson. A New Edi 
 tion founded on that published by R. Ackermann in the year 1817. $1.50. 
 
 "The Dance of Life" was written chiefly to exploit Rowlandson s fine plates, 
 which are, of course, the important feature of the book. 
 
 Windsor Castle; an Historical Romance. 
 
 By W. Harrison Ainsworth, Esq. Illustrated by George Cruikshank and 
 Tony Johannot, with Designs on Wood by W. Alfred Delamotte. A New 
 Edition founded on the Edition published by Henry Colburn, 1844. $1.50. 
 
 This romance concerns itself with that fascinating epoch of English history em 
 bracing the courtship of Anne Boleyn by Henry VIII, her brief reign as queen, and 
 the rise of Jane Seymour as her successor. There are twenty-two full-page plates and 
 eighty-seven wood engravings," besides three views of the ancient park and castle 
 aptly following the suggestions of the text with Cruikshank s usual felicity. 
 
 The Fables of JEsop and Others. 
 
 With Designs on Wood by Thomas Bewick. A New Edition reproduced 
 m fac-simile from the Editions printed at Newcastle, 1881 and 1823. $1.50. 
 
 Three hundred and eighty woodcuts by Bewick accompany this attractive collec 
 tion of the celebrated fables. Bewick had already come before the world as a wood 
 engraver of remarkable dexterity and inventiveness. 
 
 OTHERS IN PREPARATION. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
 
BY SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. 
 
 Uniform Edition* Each, J2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard. 
 
 A Romance of the Life of a Typical Napoleonic Soldier. 
 
 41 Good stirring tales are they. Remind one of those adventures indulged 
 in by The Three Musketeers. Written with a dash and swing that here and 
 there carry one away." New York Mail and Express. 
 
 Rodney Stone. 
 
 " A notable and very brilliant work of genius." London Spectator. 
 
 " Dr. Doyle s novel is crowded with an amazing amount of incident and 
 excitement. ... lie does not write history, but shows us the human side of 
 his great men, living and moving in an atmosphere charged with the spirit 
 of the hard-living, hard-fighting Anglo-Saxon." New York Critic. 
 
 Round the Red Lamp. 
 
 Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life. 
 
 " A strikingly realistic and decidedly original contribution to modern lit 
 erature." Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. 
 
 The Stark-Munro Letters. 
 
 Being a Series of Twelve Letters written by STARK-MUNRO, M.B., 
 to his friend and former fellow student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, 
 Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884. 
 
 " Cullingworth, a much more interesting creation than Sherlock Holmes, 
 and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him." 
 
 Kichard le Gallienne in the London Star. 
 
 A Duet, with an Occasional Chorus. 
 
 Charming is the one word to describe this volume adequately. Dr. Doyle s 
 crisp style and his rare wit and refined humor, utilized with cheerful art that is 
 perfect of its kind, fill these chapters with joy and gladness for the reader." 
 
 Philadelphia Press. 
 
 " Bright, brave, simple, natural, delicate. It is the most artistic and most 
 original thing that its author has done. We can heartily recommend A Duet 
 to all classes of readers. It is a good book to put into the hands of the young 
 of either sex. It will interest the general reader, and should delight the critic, 
 for it is a work of art. This story taken with the best of his previous work 
 gives Dr. Doyle a very high place in modern letters." Chicago Times-Herald. 
 
 Uncle Bernac. 
 
 " A Romance of the Empire. 
 
 " Simple, clear, and well-defined. . . . Spirited in movement all the way 
 through. A fine example of clear analytical force." Boston Herald. 
 
 " From the opening pages the clear and energetic telling of the story never 
 falters and our attention never flags." London Observer. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
 
YB 39999