Skyrider | Page 2

no business, so Mary V placed the tablet open on the table just as she
had found it, and left the bunk house without deigning to fulfill the
errand of mercy that had taken her there. Why should she trouble to
sew the lining in a coat sleeve for a fellow who pined for a silly
flirtation with Venus? Let Johnny Jewel paw and struggle to get into
his coat. Better, let Venus sew that lining for him!
Mary V stopped halfway to the house, and hesitated. It had occurred to
her that she might add another perfectly withering verse to that poem. It
could start: "While sailing in my airplane boat, I'll ask Venus to mend
my coat."
Mary V started back, searing couplets forming with incredible
swiftness in her brain. How she would flay Johnny Jewel with the keen
blade of her wit! If he thought he was the only person at the Rolling R

ranch who could write poetry, it would be a real kindness to show him
his mistake.
Just then Bud Norris and Bill Hayden came up from the corrals,
heading straight for the bunk house. Mary V walked on, past the bunk
house and across the narrow flat opposite the corrals and up on the first
bench of the bluff that sheltered the ranch buildings from the worst of
the desert winds. She did it very innocently, and as though she had
never in her life had any thought of invading the squat, adobe building
kept sacred to the leisure hours of the Rolling R boys.
There was a certain ledge where she had played when she was a child,
and which she favored nowadays as a place to sit and look down upon
the activities in the big corral--whenever activities were taking place
therein--an interested spectator who was not suspected of being within
hearing. As a matter of fact, Mary V could hear nearly everything that
was said in that corral, if the wind was right. She could also see very
well indeed, as the boys had learned to their cost when their riding did
not come quite up to the mark. She made for that ledge now.
She had no more than settled herself comfortably when Bud and Bill
came cackling from the bunk house. A little chill of apprehension went
up Mary V's spine and into the roots of her hair. She had not thought of
the possibilities of that open tablet falling into other hands than Johnny
Jewel's.
"Hyah! You gol-darn witless wight," bawled Bud Norris, and slapped
Bill Hayden on the back and roared. "Hee-yah! Skyrider! When yo' all
git done kissin' Venus's snow-white hand, come and listen at what's
been wrote for yo' all by Mary V! Whoo-ee! Where's the Great Bear at
that yo' all was goin' to lead home, Skyrider?" Then they laughed like
two maniacs. Mary V gritted her teeth at them and wished aloud that
she had her shotgun with her.
A youth, whose sagging chaps pulled in his waistline until he looked
almost as slim as a girl, ceased dragging at the bridle reins of a balky
bronk and glanced across the corral. His three companions were
hurrying that way, lured by a paper which Bud was waving high above

his head as he straddled the top rail of the fence.
"Johnny's a poet, and we didn't know it!" bawled Bud. "Listen here at
what the witless wight's been a-writin'!" Then, seated upon the top rail
and with his hat set far back on his head, Bud Norris began to declaim
inexorably the first two verses, until the indignant author came over
and interfered with voice and a vicious yank at Bud's foot, which
brought that young man down forthwith.
"Aw, le' me alone while I read the rest! Honest, it's swell po'try, and I
want the boys to hear it. Listen--get out, Johnny! '_I'll circle high as if
passing by, then--v-o-l--then vollup, bank, an' land--_' Hold him off'n
me, boys! This is rich stuff I'm readin'! Hey, hold your hand over his
mouth, why don't yuh, Aleck? Yo' all want to wait till I git to where--"
"I can't," wailed Aleck. "He bit me!"
"Well, take 'im down an' set on him, then. I tell yuh, boys, this is rich--"
"You give that back here, or I'll murder yuh!" a full-throated young
voice cried hoarsely.
"Here, quit yore kickin'!" Bill admonished.
"Go on, Bud; the boys have got to hear it--it's rich!"
"Yeh--shut up, Johnny! Po'try is wrote to be read--go on, Bud. Start 'er
over again. I never got to hear half of it on account of Johnny's cussin'.
Go on--I got him chewin' on my hat now. Read 'er from the start-off."
"The best is yet to come," Bill gloated pantingly, while