Part 28 (2/2)
would 'a' done; an' he puzzled over what sort of a speciment Horace might be, till it showed in his face.
”Come on down an' have supper with us,” sez Horace. ”You can see for yourself what the prospect for fresh meat is; so you can be sure of a welcome.”
”No, we can't very well come this evenin',” sez Badger-face.
”Why not?” sez Horace. ”You look to me like a man who was gettin'
bilious for the want of a little sociability. Come on down an' we'll swap stories, an' have a few drinks, an' I'll sing ya the best song you ever hearkened to.”
”No, we got to be goin',” sez Badger-face; an' he an' the Greasers rode off while Horace chuckled under his breath as merry as a magpie.
”That's what you call a bad man, is it?” sez he. ”I tell you that feller's a rank coward.”
”Would you have the nerve to pick up a horn-toad?” sez I.
”No,” sez he; ”cause they're poison.”
”They ain't no more poison 'n a frog is,” I sez; ”but most people thinks they are, an' that is why strangers are afraid of 'em. Now, Badger-face ain't no coward. He's a shootin' man; but he can't make you out, an' this is what makes him shy of ya.”
”Well,” sez Horace, ”I'd rather be a free horn-toad than a mule in harness. Come on, let's go eat.”
The next afternoon Horace went along to help bring in the bunch o'
cattle; an' some one up on the hill took a shot at him. He couldn't ride up the hill, so he hopped off the pony, an' started up on foot.
Mexican Slim was closest to him, an' he started after; but the feller got away without leavin' any trace. Horace was wonderful pleased about it, an' strutted more than common.
”There now,” sez he after supper; ”do you mean to tell me 'at that feller wasn't a coward? Why the' ain't enough sand in their whole outfit to blind a flea!”
We just set an' smoked in silence. When a feller as little as him once begins to crow, the's nothin' to do but wait till his spurs get clipped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A LITTLE GUN-PLAY
It's curious how hard it is, sometimes, to get trouble started. We all knew 'at the Cross-branders was ready to clean us out, an' itchin' for the job; but the's one curious little holdback in the make-up of every healthy animal in the world. Every sane animal the' is wants self-defence as his excuse for takin' life. I admit that now and again beasts an' men both get a sort o' crazy blood-l.u.s.t, an' just kill for the sake of it; but it's the rare exception.
One of us allus made it a point to go along with Horace; an' most times when we'd meet up with any o' the Cross-branders, they'd never miss the chance to fling some polite smart talk at him; but the little cuss could sa.s.s back sharper 'n they could, an' I reckon they was suspicious that he wouldn't 'a' been so cool if he hadn't had bigger backin' than was in sight. It was perfectly natural to think 'at he had been sent out as a lure by some big cattle outfit, or even the government; so they went cautious till they could nose out the game.
One day Badger-face an' the two Greasers came along when Horace was out ridin' with Tillte Dutch. Dutch was one o' these innocent-lookin'
Germans-big, wide-open eyes, a half smile, an' a sort of a leanin' to fat. He never had but one come-back to anything-which was to splutter; but he was dependable in a pinch.
”Whatever made you so unspeakable little?” sez Badger-face to Horace.
Horace looked behind him, an' all about, an' then sez in surprise: ”Who, me?”
”Yes, you,” sez Badger-face. ”You seem to dry down a little smaller each day.”
”Well,” sez Horace, speakin' in a low secret-tellin' tone, ”I'll tell ya; but I don't want ya to blab it to every one ya see. When I was a young chap, I used to go with a big, awkward, potato-brained slob, about your size. I could out-shoot him, out-ride him, run circles around him, an' think seven times while he was squeezin' the cells of his brain so they'd touch up again' each other; but one day he made a bet that he could eat more hog-meat 'n I could; an' he won the bet.
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