Part 15 (1/2)

”My job's huntin'.”

”Wal, it may be thet from sunup to sundown, but between times you'll be sure busy otherwise, I opine,” went on Lem. ”Did you meet the boss's son?”

”Yes, he was there. An' Belllounds made it plain I was to take orders from him an' not from his son.”

”Thet'll make your job a million times easier,” declared Lem, as if to make up for former hasty pessimism. He led the way past some log cabins, and sheds with dirt roofs, and low, flat-topped barns, out across another brook where willow-trees were turning yellow. Then the new cabin came into view. It was small, with one door and one window, and a porch across the front. It stood on a small elevation, near the swift brook, and overlooking the ranch-house perhaps a quarter of a mile below. Above it, and across the brook, had been built a high fence constructed of aspen poles laced closely together. The sounds therefrom proclaimed this stockade to be the dog-pen.

Lem helped Wade unpack and carry his outfit into the cabin. It contained one room, the corner of which was filled with blocks and slabs of pine, evidently left there after the construction of the cabin, and meant for fire-wood. The ample size of the stone fireplace attested to the severity of the winters.

”Real sawed boards on the floor!” exclaimed Lem, meaning to impress the new-comer. ”I call this a plumb good bunk.”

”Much too good for me,” replied Wade.

”Wal, I'll look after your hosses,” said Lem. ”I reckon you'll fix up your bunk. Take my hunch an' ask Miss Collie to find you some furniture an' sich like. She's Ole Bill's daughter, an' she makes up fer--fer--wal, fer a lot we hev to stand. I'll fetch the boys over later.”

”Do you smoke?” asked Wade. ”I've somethin' fine I fetched up from Leadville.”

”Smoke! Me? I'll give you a hoss right now for a cigar. I git one onct a year, mebbe.”

”Here's a box I've been packin' for long,” replied Wade, as he handed it up to Billings. ”They're Spanish, all right. Too rich for my blood!”

A box of gold could not have made that cowboy's eyes s.h.i.+ne any brighter.

”_Whoop-ee!_” he yelled. ”Why, man, you're like the fairy in the kid's story! Won't I make the outfit wild? Aw, I forgot. Thar's only Jim an'

Blud left. Wal, I'll divvy with them. Sure, Wade, you hit me right. I was dyin' fer a real smoke. An' I reckon what's mine is yours.”

Then he strode out of the cabin, whistling a merry cowboy tune.

Wade was left sitting in the middle of the room on his roll of bedding, and for a long time he remained there motionless, with his head bent, his worn hands idly clasped. A heavy footfall outside aroused him from his meditation.

”Hey, Wade!” called the cheery voice of Belllounds. Then the rancher appeared at the door. ”How's this bunk suit you?”

”Much too fine for an old-timer like me,” replied Wade.

”Old-timer! Say, you're young yet. Look at me. Sixty-eight last birthday! Wal, every dog has his day.... What're you needin' to fix this bunk comfortable like?”

”Reckon I don't need much.”

”Wal, you've beddin' an' cook outfit. Go get a table, an' a chair an' a bench from thet first cabin. The boys thet had it are gone. Somethin'

with a back to it, a rockin'-chair, if there's one. You'll find tools, an' boxes, an' stuff in the workshop, if you want to make a cupboard or anythin'.”

”How about a lookin'-gla.s.s?” asked Wade. ”I had a piece, but I broke it.”

”Haw! Haw! Mebbe we can rustle thet, too. My girl's good on helpin' the boys fix up. Woman-like, you know. An' she'll fetch you some decorations on her own hook. Now let's take a look at the hounds.”

Belllounds led the way out toward the crude dog-corral, and the way he leaped the brook bore witness to the fact that he was still vigorous and spry. The door of the pen was made of boards hung on wire. As Belllounds opened it there came a pattering rush of many padded feet, and a chorus of barks and whines. Wade's surprised gaze took in forty or fifty dogs, mostly hounds, browns and blacks and yellows, all sizes--a motley, mangy, hungry pack, if he had ever seen one.

”I swore I'd buy every hound fetched to me, till I'd cleaned up the varmints around White Slides. An' sure I was imposed on,” explained the rancher.

”Some good-lookin' hounds in the bunch,” replied Wade. ”An' there's hardly too many. I'll train two packs, so I can rest one when the other's huntin'.”