Part 7 (1/2)

”How far up?”

”Thirty miles.”

Ferguson's eyelashes flickered. ”Has Leviatt been here lately?” he questioned.

”Not since the day before yesterday.”

”When you expectin' him back?”

”The boys'll be comin' back in a week. He'll likely come along with them.”

”U--um. You're giving me a free hand?”

”Of course.”

Ferguson lounged to the door. ”I'm lookin' around a little,” he said, ”to kind of size up things. I don't want you to put me with the outfit. That strike you right?”

”I'm hirin' you to do a certain thing,” returned Stafford. ”I ain't tellin' you how it ought to be done. You've got till the fall roundup to do it.”

Ferguson nodded. He went to the corral fence, unhitched his pony, and rode out on the plains toward the river. Stafford watched him until he was a mere dot on the horizon. Then he smiled with satisfaction.

”I kind of like that guy,” he said, commenting mentally. ”There ain't no show work to him, but he's business.”

CHAPTER VII

THE MEASURE OF A MAN

During the week following Ferguson's arrival at the Two Diamond ranch Stafford saw very little of him. Mornings saw him proceed to the corral, catch up his pony, mount, and depart. He returned with the dusk. Several times, from his office window, Stafford had seen him ride away in the moonlight.

Ferguson did his own cooking, for the cook had accompanied the wagon outfit down the river. Stafford did not seek out the new man with instructions or advice; the work Ferguson was engaged in he must do alone, for if complications should happen to arise it was the manager's business to know nothing.

The Two Diamond ranch was not unlike many others that dotted the gra.s.s plains of the Territory. The interminable miles that separated Stafford from the nearest, did not prevent him from referring to that particular owner as ”neighbor”, for distances were thus determined--and distances thus determined were nearly always inaccurate. The traveler inquiring for his destination was expected to discover it somewhere in the unknown distance.

The Two Diamond ranch had the enviable reputation of being ”slick”--which meant that Stafford was industrious and thrifty and that his ranch bore an appearance of unusual neatness. For example, Stafford believed in the science of irrigation. A fence skirted his buildings, another ran around a large area of good gra.s.s, forming a pasture for his horses. His buildings were attractive, even though rough, for they revealed evidence of continued care. His ranchhouse boasted a sloped roof and paved galleries.

A garden in the rear was but another instance of Stafford's industry.

He had cattle that were given extraordinary care because they were ”milkers,” for in his youth Stafford had lived on a farm and he remembered days when his father had sent him out into the meadow to drive the cows home for the milking. There were many other things that Stafford had not forgotten, for chickens scratched promiscuously about the ranch yard, occasionally trespa.s.sing into the sacred precincts of the garden and the flower beds. His horses were properly stabled during the cold, raw days that came inevitably; his men had little to complain of, and there was a general atmosphere of prosperity over the entire ranch.

But of late there had been little contentment for the Two Diamond manager. For six months cattle thieves had been at work on his stock.

The result of the spring round-up had been far from satisfactory. He knew of the existence of nesters in the vicinity; one of them--Radford--he had suspected upon evidence submitted by the range boss. Radford had been warned to vacate Bear Flat, but the warning had been disregarded.

But one other course was left, and Stafford had adopted that. There had been no hesitancy on the manager's part; he must protect the Two Diamond property. Sentiment had no place in the situation whatever.

Therefore toward Ferguson's movements Stafford adopted an air of studied indifference, not doubting, from what he had seen of the man, that he would eventually ride in and report that the work which he had been hired to do was finished.

Toward the latter end of the week the wagon outfit straggled in. They came in singly, in twos and threes, bronzed, hardy, seasoned young men, taciturn, serene eyed, capable. They continued to come until there were twenty-seven of them. Later in the day came the wagon and the remuda.

From a period of calm and inaction the ranch now awoke to life and movement. The bunkhouse was scrubbed;--”swabbed” in the vernacular of the cowboys; the scant bedding was ”cured” in the white sunlight; and the cook was adjured to extend himself in the preparation of ”chuck”

(meaning food) to repay the men for the lack of good things during a fortnight on the open range with the wagon.