Prairie Flowers | Page 9

a snorter and a snoozer. He's the great trunk line abuser. He's the man who put the sleeper on the rail.
"I'm a double-jawed hyena from the East. I'm the blazing, bloody blizzard from the States. I'm the celebrated slugger; I'm the Beast. I can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits.
"He's a double-jawed hyena! He's the villain of the scena! He can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits."
He finished with a whoop, and picking up the glass, drained it at a gulp. "Beat it, now, Ike, ol' Stork!" he cried, "an' take a bottle of bug-juice, an' our slumberin' friend, with you. So long, ol' timer! I'm a wolf, an' it's my night to howl! Slip up to the hotel an' tell the cook to shoot me down a half-dozen buzzard's eggs fried in grizzly juice, a couple of rattlesnake sandwiches, a platter of live centipedes, an' a prickly-pear salad. I'm hungry, an' I'm on my prowl!"
CHAPTER III
THE STAGE ARRIVES
The Timber City stage creaked and rattled as the horses toiled up the long slope of the Dog Creek divide. The driver dozed on his seat, his eyes protected from the glare of the hot June sun by the wide brim of his hat, opened mechanically at intervals to glance along the white, dusty trail. Inside, Winthrop Adams Endicott smiled as he noted the eager enthusiasm with which his young wife scanned the panorama of mountains and plain that stretched endlessly away to disappear in a jumble of shimmering heat waves.
"Oh, Win! Don't you just love it? The big black mountains with their girdles of green timber, the miles, and miles, and miles of absolute emptiness, the smell of the sage--yes, and the very rattle of this bumpy old stage!"
Endicott laughed: "I believe you do love it----"
"Love it! Of course I love it! And so do you love it! And you were just as crazy about coming as I was--only you wouldn't admit it. It's just as Tex said that day way up on top of Antelope Butte. He was speaking of you and he said: 'He'll go back East and the refinement will cover him up again--and that's a damned shame. But he won't be just the same, because the prejudice is gone. He's chewed the meat of the cow country and found it good.' I've always remembered that, and it's true--you are not just the same, dear," she reached over and took his hand in both of hers. "And, oh, Win--I'm glad--glad!"
Endicott smiled as he raised the slim hand to his lips: "Considerable of a philosopher--Tex. And cowboy par excellence. I hope we can find him. If we buy the ranch I've been counting on him to manage it."
"We've got to find him! And dear Old Bat, too! And, Win, won't it be just grand? We'll live out here in the summer and in the winter we'll go to New York and Florida, and we'll never, never go back to old Half-Way Between. The place fairly reeks of soap and whisky--and I don't care if their old soap does float!"
Again, Endicott laughed: "I suppose it will do us lots of good. I'll probably spend my days in the saddle and come home smelling of horses, and covered with alkali dust."
"Horses smell better than gas, anyway, and alkali dust is cleaner than coal-soot. Look, Win, quick! A family of Indians camped beside the trail--see the scrawny, sneaky-looking dogs and the ponies with their feet tied together, and the conical tepee. And, oh, on that red blanket--the darlingest little brown papoose! I can hardly wait to get into my riding clothes and gallop for miles! And, Win, dear, you've just got to promise me that if we do buy the ranch, you'll never bring a motor out here--not even a roadster--it would spoil everything!"
"Don't set your heart too strongly on buying that ranch," cautioned her husband.
"But the man said he'd sell at a reasonable figure."
"Yes, but you must remember that a 'reasonable figure', when you're talking about an outfit that runs ten thousand head of cattle mounts up into big money. It all depends upon the terms."
"Well, if he wants to sell his old ranch, he'd be foolish to haggle over a little thing like terms. Some way, I just feel it in my bones that we're going to buy. A woman has intuition--you wait and see."
"Colston was to meet us at Timber City today, and tomorrow we'll ride out and look over the ranch. Do you think you're up to a sixty-mile ride?"
"Sixty! I could ride six hundred!" The brake-shoes creaked as the driver drew his horses up for a breathing spell at the top of the divide. "See!" Alice cried, pointing far out into the foothills. "There is Timber City, with its little wooden buildings huddled against the