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A little way they walked in silence, the light of the barber-shop falling across the road ahead of them. "See who in the morning, Duke?" Taterleg inquired. "Lady in the white house on the mesa. Her father died a few weeks ago, and left her alone with a big ranch on her hands. Rustlers are runnin' her cattle off, cuttin' her fences " "Fences?" "Yes, forty thousand acres all fenced in, like Texas."
Taterleg sat a little while thinking about it. Presently he resumed his repose, chuckling a choppy little laugh. "Jedlick! Jedlick ain't got no more show than a cow. When a lady steps in and takes a man's part there's only one answer, Duke. And she called me a gentleman, too. Didn't you hear her call me a gentleman, Duke?" "I seem to remember that somebody else called you that one time."
This time he was to take back the money, so they would have the cash to buy out Walleye, the sheepman, who was making a failure of the business and was anxious to quit. The Duke wondered, with a lonesome sort of pleasure, how things were going on the ranch that afternoon, and whether Taterleg was riding the south fence now and then, as he had suggested, or sticking with the cattle.
Taterleg rolled his eyes to look at him, not turning his head, reproach in the glance, mild reproof. But he let it pass in his good-natured way, brightening to the subject nearest his heart. "Four or five days ago." "All right, is she?" "Up and a-comin', fine as a fiddle." "You'll be holdin' hands with her before the preacher in a little while now." "Inside of a week, Duke.
We can travel together till our roads branch, anyhow." "I'll be glad to wait for you, old feller. I didn't know which way " "Wyoming," said Taterleg, sighing. "It's come back on me ag'in." "Well, a feller has to rove and ramble, I guess." Taterleg sighed, looking off westward with dreamy eyes. "Yes, if he's got a girl pullin' on his heart," said he.
Ranchhouses were farther apart as a man proceeded, and beyond that, mountains. It looked to Taterleg as if he'd better give it up. That was so, according to the opinion of Siwash. To his undoubted knowledge, covering the history of twenty-four years, no agent ever had penetrated that far before. Having broken this record on a bicycle, Lambert ought to be satisfied.
Taterleg rode along in silence a little way. "Well, that was purty good for him," he said. "Who was that hopped a horse like he was goin' for the doctor, and tore off?" "Jedlick, dern him!" Lambert allowed the matter to rest at that, knowing that neither of them had been hurt.
So all a person can do is shoot them if you catch them at it. I don't know what Hargus will do to get even with this morning's humiliation." "I think he'll leave that fence alone like it was charged with lightnin'," Taterleg said. "He'll try to turn something; he's wily and vindictive." "He needs a chunk of lead about the middle of his appetite," Taterleg declared. "Who comes next?"
He stood with flaring nostrils, scooping in his breath, not a dry hair on him, not a dash of vinegar in his veins. "Where's Jim?" the Duke inquired. "Comin'," Taterleg replied, waving his hand afield. "What's he doin' out there where's he been?" the Duke inquired, a puzzled look in his face, searching their sober countenances for his answer. "He thought you "
Taterleg stopped short at sight of the long legs drawn up like a sharp gable to get all of them into the chair, the immense nose raking the ceiling like a double-barreled cannon, the morgue-tinted light giving him the complexion of a man ready for his shroud. He touched Lambert's arm to check him and call his attention. "Look in there look at that feller, Duke!
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