The Greatest Westerns of Ernest Haycox. Ernest Haycox

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      Denver walked to the beast and ran his hand over one scarred side. Cattleland brands its beef stock freely and without regard for appearances, but a horse is marked as little as possible. Starting just above the stifle, the customary branding spot, Denver began to unravel the story of this jaded charger's peregrinations. He had been a Fee horse, he had stayed a while with Gallant at Flying G. Thence he had moved—all this registered in burns that wandered up from stifle to hip and thence outward along the flank—through Three Pines, Hogpen, Double Ought, Thirty Ranch, Bar Y, Broken Jug, XL, Lazy UT, and the Gate brand of Wilgus. Nor was there any order in the arrangement of brands. They crowded together, overlapped, doubled up—proving anything or nothing.

      "Denver," called the court, "I'll designate you as expert witness. What's your impression?"

      "Wait a minute," interposed Ortez. "There's two sides to a horse. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Come over and read some more."

      Denver walked around the animal and chuckled. "My first impression is that if there's any more branding to be done on this horse you'll have to get another horse. All I can say now in regard to the specimen before me is that he's better than sixteen years old."

      "Now, now," cut in Wilgus, "he ain't a day over twelve. He just looks a little tired, that's all."

      "Beg to differ. They quit using the Lazy UT brand sixteen seasons ago. This horse has been places and seen things. In fact, he's practically an original passenger of the Ark."

      The horse leered at Denver's coat buttons, nibbled on one in a spasmodic burst of energy, and sneezed. Ortez evidenced alarm.

      "Y'honor, this horse ain't himself at all—"

      "Was he ever?" interrupted Niland.

      "—the crowd excites him. The air is bad. I got to get this horse outa here. Henry, lend a hand."

      Niland rose. "Considering the fact that ownership is going to be difficult to determine, why not settle reasonably? Let Wilgus make an offer for the horse. Tuggs would accept rather than go through a long suit. If we could establish a fair price—"

      "This has got nothing to do with assault and battery," repeated Langdell.

      "The mills of the gods grind exceedingly small," said the judge. "If you're determined to get the assault and battery end of it over with I'll oblige. Wilgus is fined twenty-five dollars. Now let's see about this offer of sale. Wilgus wants the horse. Tuggs will sell. Niland has suggested a price."

      "Including rope and halter?" asked Langdell.

      "Certainly not," said Niland. "A rope and halter represents around six dollars. Are you buying hardware or horse? I offer the horse as is, without gear, delivered on the streets of Sundown."

      "He might run away," objected Langdell.

      The court frowned heavily on the attorney. "Mr. Langdell, don't let your wild fancy get the best of you. Did you ever hear of the horse running? Can you produce any living being who saw or thought he saw in the aforementioned horse any inkling of a desire to run away, either impulsively or after due deliberation? Just what evidence can you adduce to prove that this horse is even familiar with the act of running?"

      Out of the crowd came a hollow assent. "True, brother."

      "Well," considered Langdell, "we might go so far as to make an offer—if you agree to deliver the horse at the Wilgus ranch."

      "Now, now," scoffed Niland. "It's eleven miles to that ranch. I refuse to embark on any such hazardous experiment. The horse is in delicate health."

      "Gentlemen, get together," adjured the court. "I think you ought to make an attempt to strike an equitable balance."

      Langdell whispered to Wilgus and came to a sudden decision. "Very well. Give us five dollars, Niland, and we'll take the horse off your hands."

      Niland threw up his arms in disgust. "Have you forgotten the horse is valuable?"

      "For what?" jeered Langdell.

      "Your client says so."

      Wilgus half rose. "Sentimentally, understand. I wouldn't go so fur as to say it was anything else."

      Niland conferred with Tuggs. "Tuggs," he announced, "is ready to let Wilgus give him twenty dollars cash or another sound horse such as this one."

      Langdell raised an unbelieving eyebrow; and even the court seemed rather dashed. Rumors of difficulty drifted into the hall of justice. The sheriff had piloted the horse as far as those difficult steps and now was audibly preparing for the worst. "Henry, don't stand down there thataway. If he starts a-goin' too fast he'll crush yuh."

      "Let's take him down rump first," suggested Henry.

      "No—no! He'll break his back."

      "All right. Head first she is."

      "That ain't so good either. He's apt to bust his neck."

      This defeated Henry; he grew sarcastic. "Hell's afire, how many ways yuh think a horse can come downstairs? Listen, I'll get a pint of oats and hold it here. That'll move him."

      "No—no! You want this horse to faint right here?"

      "Aw," exploded Henry, "give him a push and see what happens!" The courtroom gathered that Henry was walking away, for the sheriffs plaintive remonstrance rose to heaven.

      "Now, Henry, don't leave me like this. I'm holdin' him up, and I ain't able to let go!"

      Wilgus rose from his seat. "You fellows are makin' a lot of monkey business out of this deal. That's my horse, and I mean to have him."

      "You won't consider settlin' it?" queried Niland.

      "I ain't a-goin' to pay a penny for what's already mine," stated Wilgus. "I'll allow he ain't pretty and couldn't drag a feather, but it's the principle of the thing. If I got to sue to get him, that's what I'm a-goin' to do."

      "The province of the court is to see justice done," said the judge, eyeing Wilgus. "Arbitration having failed, we shall now see whose pound of flesh is whose. This is your legal right. Do you intend to bring action?"

      Wilgus muttered to Langdell, and the lawyer spoke for him. "We do."

      Ortez limped into the courtroom.

      "I leaned him against Grover's stable and left him," was the sheriff's weary reply.

      "How did you get him down the steps?"

      "He fell down. And I hope I never lay eyes on him again."

      The judge frowned. "It won't do, Sheriff. The court now orders you to take charge of the horse, pending determination of ownership. Take him to Grover's stable. See that he lacks for absolutely nothing in the way of food, attention, whatever medical services as may be deemed necessary. In short, watch over him with charity and compassion. Plaintiff Wilgus will post the necessary bond. Next case."

      Niland came up to Denver with Tuggs ambling forlornly behind. "That means I ain't goin' to get use of my horse?" he wanted to know. "But I got to have a horse."

      "Never СКАЧАТЬ