Part 7 (1/2)

The Long Shadow B. M. Bower 52320K 2022-07-22

”If it's as you say”--and he meant no offense--”it looks like a good thing, all right. But yuh can't most always tell. I'd have to see it--say, yuh might tell me where this bonanza is, and what's the name uh the brand. If it's anywheres around here I ought to know the place, all right.”

Alexander P. Dill must, after all, have had some sense of humor; his eyes lost their melancholy enough almost to twinkle. ”Well, the owner's name is Brown,” he said slowly. ”I believe they call the brand the Double-Crank. It is located--”

”Located--h.e.l.l!--do yuh think _I_ don't know?” The cigarette, ready to light as it was, slipped from Billy's fingers and dropped unheeded over the wheel to the brown trail below. He took the reins carefully from between his knees, straightened one that had become twisted and turned out upon the prairie to avoid a rough spot where a mud-puddle had dried in hard ridges. Beyond, he swung back again, leaned and flicked an early horse-fly from the ribs of the off-horse, touched the other one up a bit with his whip and settled back at ease, tilting his hat at quite another angle.

”Oh, where have yuh been, Billy boy, Billy boy?

Oh, where have yuh been, charming Billy?”

He hummed, in a care-free way that would have been perfectly maddening to any one with nerves.

”I suppose I am to infer from your silence that you do not take kindly to the proposition,” observed Mr. Dill, in a colorless tone which betrayed the fact that he did have nerves.

”I can take a josh, all right,” Billy stopped singing long enough to say. ”For a steady-minded cuss, yuh do have surprising streaks, Dilly, and that's a fact. Yuh sprung it on me mighty smooth, for not having much practice--I'll say that for yuh.”

Mr. Dill looked hurt. ”I hope you do not seriously think that I would joke upon a matter of business,” he protested.

”Well, I know old Brown pretty tolerable well--and I ain't accusing him uh ribbing up a big josh on yuh. He ain't that brand.”

”I must confess I fail to get your point of view,” said Mr. Dill, with just a hint of irascibility in his voice. ”There is no joke unless you are forcing one upon me now. Mr. Brown made me a bona-fide offer, and I have made a small deposit to hold it until you came and I could consult you. We have three days left in which to decide for or against it. It is all perfectly straight, I a.s.sure you.”

Billy took time to consider this possibility. ”Well, in that case, and all jokes aside, I'd a heap rather have the running uh the Double-Crank than be President and have all the newspapers hollering how 'President Billy Boyle got up at eight this morning and had ham-and-eggs for his breakfast, and then walked around the block with the Queen uh England hanging onto his left arm,' or anything like that But what I can't seem to get percolated through me is why, in G.o.d's name, the Double-Crank wants to sell.”

”That,” Mr. Dill remarked, his business instincts uppermost, ”it seems to me, need not concern us--seeing that they _will_ sell, and at a price we can handle.”

”I reckon you're right. Would yuh mind saying over the details uh the offer again?”

”Mr. Brown”--Dill cleared his throat--”offered to sell me a full section of land, extending from the line-fence of the home ranch, east--”

”Uh-huh--now what the devil's his idea in that?” Billy cut in earnestly. ”The Double-Crank owns about three or four miles uh bottom land, up the creek west uh the home ranch. Wonder why he wants to hold that out?”

”I'm sure I do not know,” answered Dill. ”He did not mention that to me, but confined himself, naturally, to what he was willing to sell.”

”Oh it don't matter. And all the range stuff, yuh said--ten thousand head, and--”

”I believe he is reserving some thoroughbred stock which he has bought in the last year or two. The stock on the range--the regular range grade-stock--all goes, as well as the saddle-horses.”

”Must be the widow said yes and wants him to settle down and be a gentle farmer,” decided Billy after a moment.

”We will meet him in Hardup to-night or to-morrow,” Dill observed, as if he were anxious to decide the matter finally. ”Do you think we would better buy?” It was one of his little courteous ways to say ”we”

in discussing a business transaction, just as though Billy were one of the firm.

”Buy? You bet your life we'll buy! I wisht the papers was all signed up and in your inside pocket right now, Dilly. I'm going to get heart failure the worst kind if there's any hitch. Lord, what luck!”

”Then, we will consider the matter as definitely settled,” said Dill, with a sigh of satisfaction. ”Brown cannot rescind now--there is my deposit to bind the bargain. I will say I should have been sorely disappointed if you had not shown that you favored the idea. It seems to me to be just what we want.”

”Oh--that part. But it seems to _me_ that old Brown is sure locoed to give us a chance at the outfit. He's gone plumb silly. His friends oughta appoint a guardian over him--only I hope they won't get action till this deal is cinched tight.” With that, Billy relapsed into crooning his ditty. But there were odd breaks when he stopped short in the middle of a line and forgot to finish, and there was more than one cigarette wasted by being permitted to go cold and then being chewed abstractedly until it nearly fell to pieces.

Beside him, Alexander P. Dill, folded loosely together in the seat, caressed his knees and stared unseeingly at the trail ahead of them and said never a word for more than an hour.

CHAPTER X.