A Texas Matchmaker | Page 4

taxes, a Mexican arrived at the ranch and
announced that he had seen a large band of javalina on the border of
the chaparral up the river. Uncle Lance had promised his taxes by a
certain date, but he was a true sportsman and owned a fine pack of
hounds; moreover, the peccary is a migratory animal and does not wait
upon the pleasure of the hunter. As I rode out from the corrals to learn
what had brought the vaquero with such haste, the old ranchero cried,
"Here, Tom, you'll have to go to the county seat. Buckle this money
belt under your shirt, and if you lack enough gold to cover the taxes,
you'll find silver here in my saddle-bags. Blow the horn, boys, and get
the guns. Lead the way, Pancho. And say, Tom, better leave the road
after crossing the Sordo, and strike through that mesquite country," he
called back as he swung into the saddle and started, leaving me a
sixty-mile ride in his stead. His warning to leave the road after crossing

the creek was timely, for a ranchman had been robbed by bandits on
that road the month before. But I made the ride in safety before sunset,
paying the taxes, amounting to over a thousand dollars.
During all our acquaintance, extending over a period of twenty years,
Lance Lovelace was a constant revelation to me, for he was original in
all things. Knowing no precedent, he recognized none which had not
the approval of his own conscience. Where others were content to
follow, he blazed his own pathways--immaterial to him whether they
were followed by others or even noticed. In his business relations and
in his own way, he was exact himself and likewise exacting of others.
Some there are who might criticise him for an episode which occurred
about four years after my advent at Las Palomas.
Mr. Whitley Booth, a younger man and a brother-in-law of the old
ranchero by his first wife, rode into the ranch one evening, evidently on
important business. He was not a frequent caller, for he was also a
ranchman, living about forty miles north and west on the Frio River,
but was in the habit of bringing his family down to the Nueces about
twice a year for a visit of from ten days to two weeks' duration. But this
time, though we had been expecting the family for some little time, he
came alone, remained over night, and at breakfast ordered his horse, as
if expecting to return at once. The two ranchmen were holding a
conference in the sitting-room when a Mexican boy came to me at the
corrals and said I was wanted in the house. On my presenting myself,
my employer said: "Tom, I want you as a witness to a business
transaction. I'm lending Whit, here, a thousand dollars, and as we have
never taken any notes between us, I merely want you as a witness. Go
into my room, please, and bring out, from under my bed, one of those
largest bags of silver."
The door was unlocked, and there, under the ranchero's bed,
dust-covered, were possibly a dozen sacks of silver. Finding one tagged
with the required amount, I brought it out and laid it on the table
between the two men. But on my return I noticed Uncle Lance had
turned his chair from the table and was gazing out of the window,
apparently absorbed in thought. I saw at a glance that he was gazing

into the past, for I had become used to these reveries on his part. I had
not been excused, and an embarrassing silence ensued, which was only
broken as he looked over his shoulder and said: "There it is, Whit;
count it if you want to."
But Mr. Booth, knowing the oddities of Uncle Lance, hesitated.
"Well--why--Look here, Lance. If you have any reason for not wanting
to loan me this amount, why, say so."
"There's the money, Whit; take it if you want to. It'll pay for the
hundred cows you are figuring on buying. But I was just thinking: can
two men at our time of life, who have always been friends, afford to
take the risk of letting a business transaction like this possibly make us
enemies? You know I started poor here, and what I have made and
saved is the work of my lifetime. You are welcome to the money, but if
anything should happen that you didn't repay me, you know I wouldn't
feel right towards you. It's probably my years that does it, but--now, I
always look forward to the visits of your family, and Jean and I always
enjoy our visits at your ranch. I think we'd be two old fools to allow
anything