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Updated: May 8, 2025
Hargis entered to tell me that there was a gentleman asking for me. I went out to meet him, and was astonished to find that it was Simmonds. "I don't wonder you're surprised," he said, as we sat down. "Fact is, I'm surprised myself, for I don't know exactly what I'm to do out here.
Hargis, after bringing in the eggs and bacon and setting a little pot of steaming coffee at my elbow, sensibly left me alone to the enjoyment of it. Ever since that morning, I have realised that, to start the day exactly right, a man should breakfast by himself, amid just such surroundings, leisurely and without distraction.
"Good morning, sir," said a voice behind me, and I turned to find a pleasant-faced, grey-haired woman standing in the doorway. "Good morning," I responded. "I suppose you are Mrs. Hargis?" "Yes, sir; and your breakfast's ready." "Has Mr. Godfrey gone?" "Yes, sir; he left about an hour ago. He was afraid his machine would waken you." "It didn't," I said, as I followed her back along the hall.
The branding season was at hand, and the next morning Ross Hargis, foreman of the outfit, was mustering his force of some twenty-five men at the ranch, ready to start for the San Carlos range, where the work was to begin. By six o'clock the horses were all saddled, the grub wagon ready, and the cow-punchers were swinging themselves upon their mounts, when Raidler bade them wait.
Notwithstanding, certain pro-slavery men, among whom were Coleman, Hargis and Buckley, determined to drive off Branson and Dow. They sent threatening letters to Branson, and cut timber on Dow's claim; and this made bad blood. One day an altercation took place between Dow and the above-named pro-slavery men at a blacksmith shop, and Coleman followed Dow and shot him.
Swearing, stumbling, shivering, keeping his amazed, shining eyes upon the now menacing form of the aroused cattleman, McGuire managed to tumble into his clothes. Then Raidler took him by the collar and shoved him out and across the yard to the extra pony hitched at the gate. The cow-punchers lolled in their saddles, open-mouthed. "Take this man," said Raidler to Ross Hargis, "and put him to work.
"We must get him," and Swain sprang to his feet. "We must explain to him how important it is." "Perhaps I can get him on the 'phone," I said; but the person who answered told me that he had already started for the inquest. And, a moment later, Mrs. Hargis tapped at the door of the study and said that the doctor was outside. I told her to show him in at once.
Afterward Captain Bull Hargis said that never in his recollection of New York crowds had there been a crowd so hard to contend against or one so difficult to penetrate; he said this between gasps for breath while nursing a badly sprained thumb. The men under him agreed with him. The thing overpassed anything in their professional experiences. Several of them were veterans of the force too.
Well, Jim Hargis says that's the coldest-nosed hound ever run a trail, and he's got five hundred dollars to bet his equal don't live in the South." "Humph," sneered Blount, "I reckon he never did see my old Hec." "Hec! Why, he says he'd make Hec look like a pot-licker if he ever got mixed up with his dog." "What! My old Hec! Five hundred dollars!
Hargis standing on the front porch. "Well, you are out early!" she said. "Yes," laughed Godfrey; "fact is, we haven't been to bed yet. Will you have something to eat, Lester, before you turn in?" A glass of milk was all I wanted; and five minutes later I mounted to my room.
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