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Updated: May 16, 2025
If anything were played in which there was no traceable melody, when the instruments encountered a tumult of chords and dissonances, he would exclaim though with regretful toleration: "What are they trying to do now? What is it all about? Why can't music be simple and sweet? Do noise and confusion make it better or greater?" One night Barbee had him serenaded.
He's just beat it with a lot of his rotten crowd, Monte Devine and Bettins and True. They're up to something crooked. 'I forgot. Moraga laughed greasily. 'Jim was in the back room there talking to Sanchia! Nice girl, no? he taunted Barbee. 'I'll kill you some day, Moraga, cursed Barbee thickly. Howard turned back to the door. 'I want your horse, Barbee, he said quickly. 'All right?
They had, none of them, so much as noted Steve Packard's entrance. Now, however, he forced them to take stock of him. "Bill Royce," he said sharply, "keep your shirt on. Barbee, you do the same. Blenham, you talk with me." "You?" jeered Blenham. "You? Who are you?" "I'm the man on the job right now," answered Packard crisply. "And from now on, I'm running the Ranch Number Ten, if you want to know.
The steers were to be counted every day if Barbee thought necessary; so much Steve had said coolly, merely for the emphasis of the words. Barbee had looked at him curiously, making no rejoinder and going about his business with a puzzled look on his face. A week later Barbee reported to Steve down at Ranch Number Ten.
'It lies entirely within the scope of conservative probability, said Longstreet blandly, his eyes carrying the look of a man who in spirit is far away from his physical environment, 'that, after all, my data were not sufficient. 'Talking to me? said Barbee.
And he talks of maybe a li'l trouble in the future with Baldy Barbee and the Anvil boys, and he mentions Baldy and the Anvil several times, and the last time wasn't necessary. And, furthermore, he don't say anything a-tall about this Chin Whisker gent, who's old Dale or I'm Dutch. So there y'are, and plain enough," added Racey, holding up the bridle and turning it about.
Blenham, his silence and watchfulness unbroken, still chewed at his fist. Barbee brought a heavy blacksnake in his hand. "Barbee says you want me, Steve?" said Royce from the threshold. "An' that Blenham's here?" "Yes, Bill," Steve answered. And to Barbee, "Close the door behind you. Lock it. Give me the key. Now fasten the shutters across both windows." Barbee obeyed silently.
'Go to it, Barbee flashed out. 'And if you ain't man enough to get Jim Courtot pretty damn soon, I am! 'Keep your shirt on, kid, Howard told him coolly. 'And keep your hands off. And for God's sake, stop letting that woman make a fool of you. Barbee cursed in his throat and with burning eyes watched the swing doors snap after the departing cattleman.
His hair was short Barbee always kept it close cropped but for all that it persisted in curling, seeking to express itself in tight little rings everywhere; his eyes were very blue and very innocent, like a young girl's and he was, all in all, just about as good-for-nothing a young rogue as you could find in a ten days' ride.
Barbee was leaning over his desk with his fingers plunged in his hair and his eyes fixed on the law book before him unopened. He turned and remarked with dry candor: "Marguerite has dropped me." "If she has, it's a blessed thing." "There was more depth to her than I thought." "There always is. Wait until you get older." "I shall have to work and climb to win her."
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