The Man From Bar-20 by Clarence E. Mulford (good romance books to read .txt) 📕

“Maverick,” grunted Holbrook, waiting for the next. “Logan shore is careless in his calf roundups. That’s four of ‘em we got in th’ last two raids. Reckon he thinks brandin’ is more or less unnecessary, th’ way he’s located. An’ d–-d if here don’t come another! Nope; it’s a sleeper. Somebody took th’ trouble to cut th’ notch.”

Ackerman did his share of the work, silent and preoccupied, and when the last cow had been turned onto the range he wheeled abruptly, looked around, and walked over to Quigley, who was approaching.

“I reckon I better go off on a little scout,” he said. “I ain’t satisfied about Nelson; an’ th’ more I mills it over, th’ less satisfied I am. You can grin; but ,“m tellin’ you it ain’t no grinnin’ matter!” he snapped, eying the group. “I’m tellin’ you what ,“m goin’ to do, an’ that’s all.”

“That’s for you to say,” smiled Quigley. “Nobody’s goin’ to try to stop you; but we reckon yo’re only makin’ trouble for yoreself. He’s quit th’ Twin Buttes country. I understand he’s prospectin’ south of town.”

“He ain’t prospectin’ none,” retorted Ackerman. “An’ he wasn’t prospectin’ up here, neither; he was runnin’ a bluff, an’ makin’ it stick. I looked into that gravel bed!”

Fleming laughed. “He was coverin’ his rustlin’ operations. His real prospectin’ was to be done with a rope an’ a runnin’ iron.”

“Yes,” grunted Sanford; “an’ now he’s doin’ th’ same thing down south, I’ll bet. Th’ Circle S has got a lot of sleepers an’ mavericks runnin’ on their outlyin’ range. Holmes has been threatenin’ for two years to round ‘em all up; but when he’s ready, th’ Long T ain’t; an’ t’other way around,”

“Our friend is goin’ to set right down on a rattler if he starts rustlin’ down there,” grinned Purdy. “Them two ranches are wide awake. I know, because I’ve looked ‘em over.”

“He’ll tackle th’ job,” said Harrison; “because he’s somethin’ of a pinwheel hisself.”

“That’s how I figger it,” said Holbrook quickly. “A burned child loves th’ fire, if it’s stubborn. Let him alone; don’t stir him up. We don’t want him up here, an’ that’s our limit. What he does down there ain’t no game for us to horn into. Let ‘em fiddle an’ dance an’ be d d.”

Ackerman regarded them pityingly and shrugged his shoulders. “I pass I Ain’t there no way to get it through yore heads that I don’t believe he’s interested in anythin’ but us? It’s like drillin’ in granite. I hammer an’ hammer, twist th’ drill an’ hammer some more; an’ after hard work all I got is a little hole, with a cussed sight more granite below it! I feel like rammin’ in a charge of powder an’ blowin’ it to h—l an’ gone. Look at me I Listen! Put away yore marbles, an’ think!”

“Why don’t you fellers listen?” grinned Fleming.

“Just because he went south don’t say he stayed there,” hammered Ackerman. “He wasn’t scared away; not by a d–-d sight. I know that. Fleming, Gates, an’ Harrison know it. We all know it. He went south. But he can turn, can’t he? If he can’t, lie’s in a h—l of a fix! No tellin’ where he’ll end up Patagonia, mebby. All right, he can turn. It’s only a question of where! He’s goin’ to turn; an’ when he does, I’m goin’ to be there an’ see him do it. I’m goin’ to make it my business to find him, watch him, an’ trail him. If he turns north I’m goin’ to get him. An’ if you’ll take any advice from me, you’ll all begin to take long rides, north, east, south, an’ west; mostly southwest an’ west. You’ll ride in pairs, an’ you’ll keep yore fool eyes open. Th’ time has passed for loafin’ around here, shootin’ craps an’ swappin’ lies. Yo’re smokin’ on an open powder keg; an’ d—n you, you ain’t got sense enough to know it!” He raised his clenched fists. “Imeanitl D—n you you ain’t got sense enough to know it!”

Quigley laughed, although uneasily; for Ackerman’s earnestness carried unrest with it. “Jim, Jim,” he said kindly, “we’ve been up here a long time; an’ we’ve given these hills a name that guards ‘em for us. Them that bothered us disappeared; an’ th’ lesson was learned.”

“Was it?” shouted Ackerman. “He didn’t learn it! He come up here, plump in th’ face of yore warnin’, in spite of what he had heard in Hastings! Why? Because it’s his business to come! Because he’s paid to come! He ain’t one of them Hastings loafers! He ain’t no sleepy puncher, satisfied to draw down his pay, an’ th’ h—l with th’ ranch! I tell you you never saw a man like him before. Can’t you see it? Logan found out that he was a real man, a gun man, an’ not scared of h—l an’ high water. Then he quits Logan, an I comes up here. Can’t you see it? Can you? Think, d—nit; THINK!”

“I did; have been, an’ am,” snapped Quigley angrily. “Thinkin’ is one thing; goin’ loco, another. I think yo’re a d–-d fool!”

Ackerman threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. “All right; have it yore own way. I give it up. I pass before th’ draw. But I ain’t swallerin’ no pap an’ gazin’ at th’ moon. I’m goin’ to keep my eyes on Nelson.”

“You want to; he’s a bad hombre,” said Fleming uneasily.

Ackerman wheeled and smiled at the speaker. “He is; an’ he’s a d–-d good man. I takes off my hat to him; an’ I wish to heaven we had a few Nelsons up here; this ranch would hum. An’ you’d ‘a’ done better if you’d follered yore own advice. I won’t make th’ same mistake twice. Th’ minute he makes a false move I’ll plug him. I underrated him before; now I’m goin’ to overrate him, to be on th’ safe side. But you ain’t got a thing to say: three to one, an’ you let him make fools out of you!”

“I admits it,” said Fleming. “An’ that’s why I’m tellin’ you to look out for him. He’s as quiet as a flea; an’ as harmless as blastin’ powder. I wish you luck.”

“I ain’t so harmless myself,” retorted Ackerman.

“An’ now I know what I’m buckin’. You’ll see me when you see me; I’m preparin’ to be gone a month or more.”

They watched him enter the bunk-house, and when he came out again he had his saddle and a blanket roll; and when he rode into the canyon without a backward glance or a parting word he had his slicker, a generous supply of food, and plenty of ammunition.

Quigley watched him until he rode out of sight beyond the canyon, and turned toward his outfit, shaking his head. “He’s so allfired set on it that I’m gettin’ a little restless myself. Jim ain’t no fool; an’ he don’t often shy at a shadow. It won’t do us no harm, anyhow; an’ we can take turns at it. I’ll start it off by takin’ one side tomorrow, an’ Holbrook can take th’ other. Later on we’ll figger it out an’ arrange th’ shifts. Mebby he’s right.”