"Then somebody"s lied to you, fer I filed on this ground and I ain"t abandoned it."
"You"ve never done any work on it, and Mr. Tucker has my filing fees and application so I cannot see that there is any argument about it."
Wallie was very polite and conciliatory.
"You"ll find that filin" is one thing and holdin" is another in this man"s country." Quite deliberately he scuffled up another cloud of cinders.
"I will appreciate it," said Wallie, sharply, "if you won"t kick ashes in my gravy!"
"And I will appreciate it," Boise Bill mocked him, "if you"ll git your junk together and move off my land in about twenty minutes."
"I refuse to be intimidated," said Wallie, paling. "I shall begin a contest suit if necessary."
"I allus fight first and contest afterward." Boise Bill lifted his huge foot and kicked over first the pan of ham and then the gravy. Wallie stood for a second staring at the tragedy. Then his nerves jumped and he shook in a pa.s.sion which seemed to blind and choke him.
Boise Bill had drawn his six-shooter and Wallie was looking into the barrel of it. His homestead, his life, was in jeopardy, but this seemed nothing at all compared to the fact that the ruffian, with deliberate malice, had kicked over his supper!
"Have I got to try a chunk o" lead on you?" Boise Bill snarled at him.
For answer Wallie stooped swiftly and gripped the long handle of the frying-pan. He swung it with all his strength as he would have swung a tennis racket. Knocking the six-shooter from Boise Bill"s hand he jumped across the fire at him. Scarcely conscious of what he was doing in the frenzy of rage that consumed him, Wallie whipped his little pearl-handled pistol from his breeches pocket and as Boise Bill opened his mouth in an exclamation of astonishment, Wallie shoved it down his throat, yelling shrilly that if he moved an eye-lash he would pull the trigger!
This was the amazing sight that stopped Pinkey in his tracks as effectively as a bullet.
Wallie heard his step and asked plaintively but without turning:
"What"ll I do with him?"
"As you are, until I pull his fangs."
Pinkey threw the sh.e.l.ls from Boise Bill"s rifle and removed the cartridges from his six-shooter. Handing the latter back to him he said laconically:
"Drift! And don"t you take the beef-herd gait, neither."
The malevolent look Boise Bill sent over his shoulder was wasted on Wallie who was picking out of the ashes and dusting the ham for which he had stood ready to shed his blood.
CHAPTER VIII
NEIGHBOURS
The modest herring had been the foundation of the great Canby fortune.
Small and unpretentious, the herring had swum in the icy waters of the Maine coast until transformed into a French sardine by Canby, Sr. It had brought wealth and renown to the shrewd old Yankee, who was alleged to have smelled of herring even in his coffin, but the Canby family were not given to boasting of the source of their income to strangers, and by the time Canby, Jr., was graduated from Harvard they were fairly well deodorized.
In the East many things had conspired to make the young Canby the misanthrope and recluse he had come to be in Wyoming, where he was fully aided and abetted in his desire for seclusion by his neighbours, who disliked him so thoroughly that they went out of their way to avoid speaking to him.
Having been graduated without distinction, he concentrated his efforts upon an attempt to become one of a New England coterie that politely but firmly refused to do more than admit his existence.
In pursuance of his ambition he built a castle-like residence and specialized in orchids and roses, purchased a yacht, became an exhibitor at the Horse Show. Society praised his roses, but their admiration did not extend to Canby; he went on solitary cruises, in his floating palace and the Horse Show, which had proved an open sesame to others, in his case was a failure.
Finally he married a girl who had the _entree_ to the circle he coveted, but his wife received invitations which did not include her husband. The divorce court ended the arrangement, and Canby had the privilege of paying a king"s ransom in alimony into one of Boston"s first families.
Petty, unscrupulous, overbearing, Canby never attributed his failure to the proper cause, which was his unpleasant personality, but regarded it as a conspiracy on the part of Society to defeat him in his ambition and accordingly came to hate it.
When he was not travelling he spent his time on the feudal estate he had created in Wyoming, where he had no visitors except Helene Spenceley and her brother, who came occasionally when invited. Protecting himself from invasion from the smaller cattlemen and homesteaders was in the nature of a recreation to Canby, who had various methods of ridding himself of their presence.
Boise Bill was one of those he kept for the purpose of intimidating prospective settlers and was considered by him his ablest lieutenant.
Theretofore when that person returned and stated that the job of running off the newcomer was one he did not care to tackle further, Canby could not fail to be impressed by the declaration.
Among traits less agreeable, Boise Bill had a strong sense of humour, albeit of a somewhat ghoulish brand, usually. As he rode back to report to Canby, the ludicrous side of the encounter grew on him until it outweighed the chagrin he first had felt at getting the worst of it.
Thinking of Wallie in his "dude" clothes, his face pale and his eyes gleaming, swinging the frying-pan in his rage at the loss of his supper, when a more experienced man would have thrown up his hands promptly, Boise Bill slapped his leg and rocked in the saddle as he chuckled:
"That"s the closest queak I ever had; he might a trembled his gun off and killed me!"
To Canby he declared with a face that was unsmiling and solemn:
"I "low I got my share of nerve when it comes to a show-down, and I ain"
no skim-milk runt, neither, but that nester--he"s a giant--and hos-tile as they make "em! He had me lookin" at my hole card from the outset."
"Are you afraid of him?" Canby demanded, incredulously.
"I wouldn"t say I"m actually _afraid_ of him, but I got an old mother in southern Idyho that"s dependin" on me and I can"t afford to take chances."
"I"ll go myself," said Canby, curtly.
"Don"t let him git the drop on you," Boise Bill warned him. "I never _see_ anybody so quick as he is. He had out his weepon and was over the fire at me before I knew what was happenin"," with conviction. "He gets "ringy"--that feller."
Canby"s cold gray eyes glittered, though he said nothing of his intentions.
Pinkey put up Wallie"s silk tent and staked it, showed him how to hobble and picket his horse and to make baking-powder biscuit, and left him.
"It"ll be lonesome at first, and the work"ll come hard on you, but you"ll be jest as happy as if you was in your right mind, onct you git used to it," he a.s.sured Wallie.
"The work doesn"t bother me, but I imagine it will be lonesome."
"You ought to git some kind of an animal and tame it," Pinkey suggested.
"I mind one winter when I "bached" I tamed and halter-broke two chipmunks so I could lead "em anywhur. You wouldn"t believe what company they was for me."
Wallie agreed that it was an idea, but he was privately of the opinion that there would be a limit to the pleasure which the company of chipmunks, however accomplished, could afford him.
"If only I had a congenial neighbour," he sighed, "it would make a great difference."
"There"s Canby--you might call on him," Pinkey suggested, grinning. "Or if you ketch yourself pickin" at the bed-clothes you can saddle up and scamper over and see me. "Tain"t fur--forty miles across the mounting.