Casey Ryan | Page 3

they think they could honk him off the road? Hunh! Casey Ryan
was still Casey Ryan. Never again would he turn out for man or devil.
Wherefore Casey was presently extricating his leaders from the harness
of his wheelers ten feet below the grade. On the road above him the
driver of the Ford inspected bent parts and a smashed headlight and

cranked and cranked ineffectively, and swore down at Casey Ryan,
who squinted unblinkingly up under his hatbrim at the man he likewise
cussed.
They were a long while there exchanging disagreeable opinions of one
another, and Casey was even obliged to climb the steep bank and whip
the driver of the Ford because he had applied a word to Casey which
had never failed as automatic prelude to a Casey Ryan combat. Casey
was frankly winded when he finally mounted one of his horses and led
the other three, and so proceeded to Lund as mad as he had ever been in
his life.
"That there settles it final," he snorted, when the town came into view
in the flat below. "They've pushed Casey off'n the grade for the first
time and the last time. What pushin' and crowdin' and squawkin' is
done from now on, it'll be Casey Ryan doin' it! Faint! I'll learn 'em
something to faint about. If it's Fords goin' to run horses off'n the trail,
you watch how Casey Ryan'll drive the livin' tar outa one. Dog-gone
'em, there ain't no Ford livin' that can drive Casey off'n the road. I'll
drive 'em till their tongues hang out. I'll make 'em bawl like a calf, and
I'll pound 'em on the back and make 'em fan it faster."
So talking to himself and his team he rode into town and up to one of
those ubiquitous Ford agencies that write their curly-tailed blue
lettering across the continent from the high nose of Maine to the
shoulder of Cape Flattery.
"Gimme one of them dog-goned blankety bing-bing Ford
auty-_mo_-biles," he commanded the garage owner who came to meet
Casey amiably in his shirt sleeves. "Here's four horses I'll trade yuh,
with what's left of the harness. And up at the third turn you'll find a
good wheel off'n the stage." He slid down from the sweaty back of his
nigh leader and stood slightly bow-legged and very determined before
the garage owner, Bill Masters.
"Wel-l--there ain't much sale for horses, Casey. I ain't got any place to
keep 'em, nor any feed. I'll sell yuh a Ford on time, and--"

Casey glanced over his shoulder to make sure the horses were standing
quiet, dropped the reins and advanced upon Bill.
"You trade," he stated flatly.
Bill backed a little. "Oh, all right, if that's the way yuh feel. What yuh
askin' for the four just as they stand?"
"Me? A Ford auty-_mo_-bile. I told yuh that, Bill. And I want you to
put on the biggest horn that's made; one that can be heard from here to
Pinnacle and back when I turn 'er loose. And run the damn thing out
here right away and show me how it works, and how often you gotta
wind it and when. Lucky I didn't bring no passengers down--I was
runnin' empty. But I gotta take back a load of Bohunks to the Bluebird
this afternoon, and my stage, she's a total wreck. I'll sign papers
to-night if you got any to sign."

CHAPTER II
Thus was the trade effected with much speed and few preliminaries,
because Bill knew Casey Ryan very intimately and had seen him in
action when his temper was up. Bill adjusted an extra horn which he
happened to have in stock. One of those terrific things that go far
toward making the life of a pedestrian a nerve-racking succession of
startles. Casey tried it out on himself before he would accept it. He
walked several doors down the street with the understanding that Bill
would honk at him when he was some little distance away. Bill waited
until Casey's attention was drawn to a lady with thick ankles who was
crossing the street in a hurry and a stiff breeze. Bill came down on the
metal plunger of the horn with all his might, and Casey jumped
perceptibly and came back grinning.
"She'll do. What'll put a crimp in Casey Ryan's spine is good enough
for anybody. Bring her out here and show me how yuh work the damn
thing. Guess she'll hold six Bohunks, won't she--with sideboards on?
I'll run 'er around a coupla times b'fore I start out--and that's all I will

do."
Naturally the garage man was somewhat perturbed at this nonchalant
manner of getting acquainted with a Ford. He knew the road from Lund
to Pinnacle. He had driven it