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Updated: May 31, 2025
Taterleg swept off his hat with the grand air that took him so far with the ladies, Lambert saluting with less extravagance. Vesta waved her hand in acknowledgment, turning again to her watching over the vast, empty land, as if she waited the coming of somebody who would quicken her life with the cheer that it wanted so sadly that calm summer night.
Taterleg and others went to investigate. He had not been there, the keeper of the livery barn said. A further look around exhausted all the possible hiding-places of Misery. The Duke was not there. "Well," said Taterleg, puzzled, "I guess he's went." "I always thought I'd go out West, but somehow I never got around to it," Taterleg said. "How far do you aim to go, Duke?"
Jim had drawn apart from the others, resentful of the distrust that Taterleg had shown, but more than half of his courage and bluster taken away from him with his gun. He was swearing more volubly than ever to cover his other deficiencies; but he was a man to be feared only when he had his weapon under his hand.
The Duke was out of sight in the scrub timber at the foot of the hills, but his dust still floated like the wake of a swift boat, showing the way he had gone. "Yes, you will!" said Taterleg. Meaningless, irrelevant, as that fragmentary ejaculation seemed, the others understood. They grinned, and twisted wise heads, spat out their tobacco, and went back to dinner.
As he turned back to his horse the old serving woman came to the porch, leaving the door swinging wide, giving a view into the hall, which was furnished with a profusion and luxuriance that Taterleg never had seen before. The old woman watched the Duke keenly as he swung into the saddle in the suppleness of his youthful grace.
Hearing the facts of the case from Lambert before dawn he had heard them from Taterleg he appeared concerned almost to the point of being troubled. "You'll have to git you a horse, Duke; you'll have to ride up to the boss when you hit him for a job.
One of them carried a wire-stretcher, the chain of it wound round his saddle-horn, the other a coil of barbed wire and such tools as were required. After they had proceeded a little way, Taterleg thought of something. "Don't you reckon we might need a couple of posts, Duke?" he asked. The Duke thought perhaps they might come in handy.
I pulled on her and pulled on her, but she wouldn't snap, and I was yankin' at the hammer to cock her when he tore loose with that second shot. That's when I found out what the matter was with that old gun of mine." Taterleg was so moved at this passage that he seemed to run out of words.
Jim got up with eagerness, and went to fetch a saddle and bridle from under the wagon. The others came into the transaction with lively interest. Only Taterleg edged round to Lambert, and whispered with his head turned away to look like innocence: "Watch out for him he's a bal'-faced hyeeny!" They trooped off to the corral, which was a temporary enclosure made of wire run among the little pines.
"Cove oysters, Duke, cove oysters," corrected Taterleg gently. "You couldn't hire a cowman to eat any other kind, you couldn't put one of them slick fresh fellers down him with a pair of tongs." "Well, I guess you know, old feller." Taterleg fell into a reverie, from which he started presently with a vehement exclamation of profanity. "If she's got bangs, I'll make her cut 'em off!" he said.
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