The Texican. Coolidge Dane

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ not – to be sure!" protested Pecos Dalhart. "If you will jest kindly give me an introduction to the young lady I'll – "

      "See you in hell first," broke in Angy, with asperity. "Where you been all the time?"

      "Ramblin' around, ramblin' around," answered Pecos, waving his hand vaguely. "What's the chances for a little music and song to while the time away? I'm lonely as a dog."

      "Joe Garcia tells me he's been packin' grub out to you at Carrizo – what you been doin' in that God-forsaken hole?"

      "Yore friend Joe talks too much," observed Pecos, briefly, "and I reckon you tell everything you know, don't you? Well and good, then, I'll keep you out of trouble with the Boss by listenin' to what you know already. Can you sing the 'Ranger,' or 'California Joe'? No? Can't even sing 'Kansas,' can you? Well, it's too bad about you, but I'm going to show you that they's another canary bird on the Verde, and he can sure sing." With this declaration Pecos leaned back against the bar, squared his shoulders, and in a voice which had many a time carolled to a thousand head of cattle burst into a boastful song.

      "Ooh, I can take the wildest bronco

      Of the wild and woolly West;

      I can back him, I can ride him,

      Let him do his level best.

      I can handle any creature

      Ever wore a coat of hair,

      And I had a lively tussle

      With a tarnal grizzly bear."

      He glanced slyly towards the door, threw out his chest, and essayed once more to attract the attention of his girl, if she was anywhere within a mile.

      "Ooh, I can rope and tie a long-horn,

      Of the wildest Texas brand,

      And in any disagreement,

      I can play a leading hand.

      I – "

      A dark mass of hair shading a pair of eyes as black and inquisitive as a chipmunk's appeared suddenly in the vacant square of the doorway and instantly the bold cowboy stopped his song.

      "Good-morning, Miss Garcia," he said, bowing low, "won't you come in – now, Angy, do your duty or I'll beat you to death!" At this hasty aside Angevine Thorne did the honors, though with a bad grace.

      "Marcelina, this is Mr. Dalhart – you better go home now, your mother's callin' you."

      "I will not shake hands with a Texano!" pronounced Marcelina, stepping into the open and folding her arms disdainfully.

      "Come on in then and hear the music," suggested Pecos, peaceably.

      "Pah! The Tehannos sing like coyotes!" cried Marcelina, twisting up her lips in derision. "They are bad, bad men —mi madre say so. No, I go home – and when you are gone Babe will sing sweet moosic for me." She bowed, with a little smile for Babe, and glided through the doorway; and though he lingered about until Old Crit came in, Pecos Dalhart failed to catch another glimpse of this new queen of his heart.

      It was dusk when Crittenden rode into camp, and at sight of Pecos Dalhart sitting by the fire the cowman's drawn face, pinched by hunger and hard riding, puckered up into a knot.

      "What you doin' down here?" he demanded, when he had beckoned him to one side.

      "Come down for my pay," responded the cowboy, briefly.

      "Your pay," fumed Crittenden, "your pay! What do you need with money up at Carrizo? Say, have you been gittin' many?" he whispered, eagerly. "Have they been comin' in on you?"

      "Sure thing. Branded forty-two cows, thirty calves, and sixteen twos. But how about it – do I draw?"

      "Only thirty calves! W'y, what in the world have you been doin'? I could pick up that many mavericks on the open range. You must've been layin' down under a tree!"

      "That's right," agreed Pecos, "and talkin' to myse'f, I was that lonely. But if you'll kindly fork over that eighty that's comin' to me we'll call it square, all the same – I only branded about a thousand dollars' worth of cows for you."

      "Eighty dollars!" cried Old Crit. "W'y, I never agreed to nothin' like that – I said I'd give you sixty. But I'll tell you what I'll do," he added, quickly, "I'll make it eighty if you'll go up there for another month."

      "After I git my first month's pay they will be time to discuss that," replied Pecos Dalhart, and after a thousand protestations the cowman finally went down into his overalls and produced the money.

      "Now what about next month?" he demanded, sharply.

      "Nope," said Pecos, pocketing his eighty dollars, "too lonely – too much trouble collectin' my pay – don't like the job."

      "Give you eighty dollars," urged Crit, "that's a heap o' money for one month."

      "Nope, this'll last me a while – so long." He started toward the corral but Crittenden caught him by the arm instantly.

      "Here, wait a minute," he rasped, "what's the matter with you anyhow? I'm ridin' early and late on my round-up and dependin' on you to finish this job up! You ain't goin' to quit me right in the middle of it, are you?"

      "That's what," returned Pecos. "I ain't so particular about brandin' a maverick once in a while – every cowman does that – but this idee of stealin' from a man you never saw goes agin' me. I git to thinkin' about it, an' it ain't right!"

      "Aw, sho, sho, boy," protested Crittenden, "you don't want to mind a little thing like that – I thought you was a man with nerve. Now here, I can't stop to go out there now and I want to git that work finished up – I'll give you eight-y-five dol-lars to stay another month! This man Upton is the biggest cow-thief in the country," he went on, as Pecos shook his head, "it ain't stealin' to rob a thief, is it?"

      "Oh, ain't it?" inquired the cow-puncher, gravely, and he smiled grimly to himself as Crittenden endeavored to set his mind at rest. "All right then," he said, cutting short the cowman's labored justification of cattle-rustling, "I'll go you – for a hundred."

      "A hundred!" repeated Crittenden, aghast. "Well, for – all right, all right," he cried, as Pecos moved impatiently away. "Now you pull out of here the way you did before and I'll have Joe pack you over some more grub. A hundred dollars," he murmured, shaking his head at the thought, "that boy will ruin me."

      Early the next morning Pecos Dalhart rode slowly up the trail that led to Carrizo Springs and the deserted country beyond, a land where as yet the cowmen had not extended their sway. To his left rose the sharp granite spires of the Four Peaks, to the right gleamed the silvery thread of the Salagua, that mighty river that flowed in from the east; and all the country between was a jumble of cliffs and buttes and ridges and black cañons, leading from the mountains to the river.

      "So it ain't no crime to rob a thief, hey?" he muttered, when, topping the last ridge, he gazed down at Carrizo Springs and across at the white-worn trail which led into the wilderness beyond. "Well, if that's the case I might as well search out that country over there and git busy on Old Crit. A man's a dam' fool to steal a thousand dollars' worth of cattle and only git eighty dollars for it."

      Three days later, riding by a trail that led ever to the east, Pecos came upon a narrow valley filled with cottonwoods and wild walnuts and echoing to the music of running water. A fine brook, flowing down from the brushy heights of the Peaks, leaped and tumbled over the bowlders and disappeared СКАЧАТЬ