Mavericks | Page 4

Twin Star outfit, the biggest cattle company in that
country. Nearly twenty years ago, while still a boy of eighteen, he had
begun in a small way. The Malpais had been a wild and lawless place
then, but in all the turbid days that followed Buck Weaver had held his
own ruthlessly by adroit manipulation, shrewd sense, and implacable
daring. Some outfits he had bought out; others he had driven away.
Those that survived were at a respectable distance from him. Only the
settlers in the hills remained to trouble him. He had come to be the big
man of the district, dominating its social, business, and political

activities.
"What's this I hear about another settler up on Bear Creek?" he asked
curtly after he had gathered up his bridle and swung to the saddle.
"That's the way Jim Budd's telling it, Mr. Weaver. Another nester
homesteaded there," old Joe Yeager answered casually, chewing
tobacco with a noncommittal air.
"Fine! There'll soon be a right smart settlement up near the headwaters
of the creeks, I shouldn't wonder. The cow business is getting to be a
mighty profitable one when you don't own any," Buck said dryly.
The others laughed, but with small merriment. They were either small
cattle owners themselves or range riders whose living depended on the
business, and during the past two years a band of rustlers had operated
so boldly as to have wiped out the profits of some of the ranchers. Most
of them disliked Buck extremely for his overbearing ways. But they did
not usually tell him so. On this particular subject, too, they joined hand
with him.
"You're dead right, Mr. Weaver. It ce'tainly must be stopped."
The man who spoke rolled a cigarette and lit it. Like the rest he was in
the common garb of the plains. The broad-brimmed felt hat, the shiny
leather chaps, the loosely knotted bandanna, were as much a matter of
course as the hard-eyed, weather-beaten look that comes of life under
an untempered sun. But Brill Healy claimed a distinction above his
fellows. He was a black-haired, picturesque fellow, as supple as a
panther, reckless and yet wary.
"We'll have rustling as long as we have nesters, Brill," Buck told him.
"If that's the case we'll serve notice on the nesters to get out," Healy
replied.
Buck grinned. Indomitable fighter though he was, he had been unable
to roll back the advancing tide of settlement. Here and there

homesteaders had taken up land and had brought in small bunches of
cattle. Most of these were honest men, others suspected rustlers. But
Buck's fiat had not sufficed to keep them out. They had held stoutly to
their own and--he suspected--a good deal more than their own. Calves
had been branded secretly and cows killed or driven away.
"Go to it, Brill," Weaver jeered. "I'm wishing you all the luck in the
world."
He touched his pony with the spur and swept up the road in a cloud of
white dust.
Not till he had disappeared did conversation renew itself languidly, for
Seven Mile Ranch was lying under the lethargy of a summery sun.
"I expect Buck's got the right of it," volunteered a brawny youth known
as Slim. "All you got to do is to take up a claim near a couple of big
outfits with easy brands, then keep your iron hot and industrious.
There's sure money in being a nester."
Despite the soft drawl of his voice, he spoke with bitterness, as did the
others. Every day the feeling was growing stronger that the rustling
must be stopped if they were going to continue to run cattle. The
thieves had operated with a boldness and a shrewdness that fairly
outwitted the ranchers. Enough horses and cattle had been driven across
the line to stock a respectable ranch. Not one of the established ranches
had escaped heavy losses; so heavy, indeed, that the owners faced the
option of going broke or of exterminating the rustlers. Once or twice
the thieves had nearly been caught red-handed, but the leader of the
outlaws had saved the men by the most daring strategy.
Healy, until lately foreman of the Twin Star outfit, had organized the
ranchmen as a protective association. In this he had represented Weaver,
himself not popular enough to coöperate with the other ranchmen. Once
Brill had led the pursuit of the rustlers and had come back furious from
a long futile chase. For among the cattle being driven across to Sonora
were five belonging to him.

Other charges also lay against the hill outlaws. A stage had been robbed
with a gold shipment from the Diamond Nugget mine. A cattleman had
been held up and relieved of two thousand dollars, just taken as part
payment for a sale of beef