From Hide and Horn (A Floating Outfit Book Number 5) (4 page)

‘
Any man who doesn’t agree with the
articles needn’t sign them,’ Goodnight said after the rumble of
comment at the last article had died away. ‘But if he doesn’t,
he’ll not be coming on the drive.’

‘
They’re fair enough for me, Colonel,’
Ahlen declared and walked forward.

‘
By cracky, I’m on,’ announced Dawn’s
tall, gangling, tow-headed younger brother crowding up on the big
blond’s heels.

Man after man followed, each writing his
signature or making his mark on the master copy and his own sheet
of the Articles. Even Dawn signed, calmly ignoring the rancher’s
cold-eyed disapproval and oblivious of his attempts to will her
into a change of heart.

Helping his uncle take the
signatures, Dusty became aware of a commotion at the bunkhouse.
Shouts, curses, crashes and other sounds of a struggle preceded the
appearance through the door of a fighting pair of cowhands. Locked
together, they crashed to the ground and rolled over flailing
punches at
each other. Recognizing the men as Spat Bodley and Austin
Hoffman, two of the Swinging G’s detachment on the drive, Dusty
could guess at the cause of the trouble.

Before Dusty could make a move
to intervene, while Mark raced towards the fighters, a
peacemaker came on
the scene. Long experience had taught Rowdy Lincoln how to deal
with such disturbances. So the well-padded, big, jovial-faced cook
emerged carrying a large bucket which he up-ended over the
struggling pair. The arrival of the cold, dirty water shocked the
breath from the cowhands and caused them to release their grasps as
they knelt facing each other. Giving them no time to recover, Mark
swooped down on them. Taking hold of each cowhand by the scruff of
his neck, the blond giant hoisted them erect and hurled them
apart.

‘
Quit it!’ Mark growled, looming
ominously between them.

Even a hot-head like young Austin Hoffman had
sense enough to know when to surrender. Anybody who could pick up
two grown men and toss them aside with such ease deserved to have
his wishes respected. No less astute, Spat stood breathing heavily
and glaring at his opponent.

Coming up on the run, Dusty went by the
Mineral Wells men and halted at Mark’s side to ask, ‘What started
it?’

‘
Hell!’ Austin sniffed indignantly.
‘Spat there can’t take a joke.’

‘
Some damned
joke
…
’ Spat growled. ‘And if you—’

‘
Tell it, Rowdy!’ Dusty snapped,
glaring the cowhand to silence.

‘
Boys were talking about
the drive, and Austin said something about how lucky they was to
have Spat along, him being such a top
hand at fetching help. That was
when Spat jumped him.’

Annoyance bit at Dusty and he prepared to
stamp out a potential cause of further trouble on the drive. Spat
Bodley was an amiable man, most times, and a skilled trail hand.
The comment which had goaded him to violence referred to his having
twice been sent to collect help for companions in trouble. On the
first occasion he had returned just too late to prevent Oliver
Loving receiving a fatal wound. The second time, he had brought
help just in time to save Dusty’s life.

Since Loving’s death, Spat had grown
increasingly touchy about mentions of his part in the affair and
reacted with growing hostility to talk of his fetching help. For
the first time, his objections had reached the point of physical
violence. Dusty wanted to avoid any repetition. There were not
enough trained trail hands on the drive for him to leave either man
behind; and that, while the easy way out, would not solve Spat’s
problem. So Dusty thought fast and put his decision into words.

‘
Go and clean out the barn,
Spat!’

Normally such a menial task would have been
performed by the horse-wranglers. Knowing why he had been given it,
Spat went without another word. Dusty turned cold eyes to a
slightly defiant Austin, but addressed his next words to the
cook.

‘
You were saying that new back-house
hole wants to go down deeper, Rowdy?’

‘
It could do with a couple of foot
deeper, cap’n,’ Lincoln admitted.

‘
Take
Austin here and he’ll do it for you.’

Shock twisted at the cowhand’s
face and he gasped, ‘Me!
On the blister end of a shovel. I’ll be
damned—’

‘
I’m telling you to do it!’ Dusty cut
in coldly. ‘It’s that, or go ask for your time.’

Knowing that Goodnight would support his
nephew’s statement, Austin made a fast decision. Work was not easy
to find in Texas, especially highly paid work like trail driving,
and riding for the Swinging G carried a certain significance. It
meant such a man was a cowhand of high quality. Folks would think
twice before hiring a feller whom Colonel Goodnight had fired.

Nor did Austin discount Dusty’s own part in
the matter. Unlike the Mineral Wells men, he had come to know the
small Texan very well. Not only had Dusty demonstrated his strange,
uncanny almost, bare hand fighting skill, but two days earlier had
been captured by a pair of Wednesbury’s men and escaped. Even
having his hands bound behind his back had not prevented Dusty from
gaining his freedom, killing one of his captors and taking the
second prisoner. So Austin figured that Dusty Fog did not need the
backing of any man to enforce his intentions.

‘
I hates digging,’ Austin said, trying
to carry off the affair in a light manner. ‘But I hates
work-hunting worse. Lead me to it, Rowdy, and watch me make like a
gopher.’

‘
Have you any work needs doing, Rowdy?’
Dusty asked before the cook left.

‘
Just a few things to load on the
bed-wagon is all, cap’n.’

‘
Take three of these fellers to help
you,’ Dusty ordered, indicating the onlookers. ‘Swede, have half of
them that’s left to help the wranglers. Mark, take the rest to
spell Uncle Charlie’s men on the herd until night-fall.’

‘
Yo!’ answered Ahlen and Mark echoed
the word, then they turned to give their orders. Mark included Dawn
in his party, for she was to be classed as an ordinary hand and
take her share of the work.

That evening the whole trail
crew was gathered for supper when Austin came into the cook
shack. No cowhand
took kindly to digging and the youngster scowled unpleasantly
around. Watching the expression on Austin’s face, Dusty prepared to
ram home the point he wanted to make.

‘
Do you know why I made you do it?’
Dusty asked, making sure his words carried to all the
men.

‘
For starting that fuss,’ Austin
guessed.

‘
That was only a
li
’l
part of it. I figured you should learn how it feels to be made do
something you hate doing. That’s what happened to Spat, with Oliver
Loving and again with me. He didn’t leave either time because he
was scared, but because he was ordered to do it. Spat hated like
hell having to obey—and it was a damned sight harder thing to do
than dig a backhouse hole. But he’s a good hand and he knows that
orders have to be obeyed. So he did what he was told. And each
time, he turned right round then came back after he’d done what he
was sent to do.’

‘
I never
thought—’ Austin began.

‘
You should try it some
time,’ Dusty told him. ‘It’s easier on the hands than riding the
blister end of a shovel. And the rest of you can get this. Spat’s
full
capable of standing up for hisself, but I don’t aim to have
him doing it on this drive. The next man to mention it, even as a
joke, I’ll fire and run off without pay; even if it happens while
we’re driving through the gates of Fort Sumner.’

‘
Reckon he’d be mean enough to try it,
Boiler?’ Burle Willock asked the grizzled Swinging G cowhand seated
at his side.

‘
You’d best believe
he’d
do
it,’ the old timer grunted and rose to walk
away.

‘
He talks big, don’t he,
Jacko?’ Willock grinned to one of his cronies. ‘Only I noticed that
he let Mark Counter stop that fight
.’

‘
Leave us not forget he’s Colonel
Charlie’s nephew,’ Jacko Lefors warned.

‘
Likely
he’ll
not let us
forget
that,’
Willock replied. ‘Thing being, how’ll he stack up on his
own. Could be we’ll find out afore this here drive’s through, Jacko
boy.’

Although the sun had barely
peeped above the eastern horizon, Dawn left the Swinging G ranch
house accompanied by Mark and Dusty’s cousin, Red Blaze. A tall,
well-built young man, Red had a fiery thatch of hair, a
pugnaciously handsome face and sported a bandana
of such a violent
clash of colors that he might have been color-blind. He wore range
clothes of good cut and twin walnut-handled Army Colts hung butt
forward in low cavalry-twist-draw holsters. One of the floating
outfit, and Dusty’s second-in-command during the War, he had a name
for hot-headed, reckless courage and a penchant for becoming
involved in more than his fair share of fights. So much so that few
people recognized his virtues. Dusty knew him to be steady enough
when giving a job of work and willingly trusted him to carry out
any task he received.

Maybe the hour was early, but
Vern Sutherland was already sitting his
tobiano
gelding, a black horse with three clearly
defined patches of white on its body.

‘
Come on!’ the youngster
greeted enthusiastically.
‘Time’s a-wasting. Let’s get
moving.’

A hot flush crept to Dawn’s
cheeks and she snapped, ‘Climb down and stop acting
loco.’

‘
Yah!’ Vern answered hotly. ‘I don’t
know why you had to come along!’

‘
Because I figured we should have
somebody in the family who knows about trailing cattle, that’s
why!’ Dawn told him.

‘
What about me, huh?’ Vern
blazed. ‘I’m
—’

‘
You pair want to wake up
Colonel Charlie
’n’ Dusty?’ Mark put in.

‘
Well look at him!’ Dawn snorted,
knowing the two men were awake and already preparing to leave for
the herd. ‘Acting like a kid going on a Sunday-school picnic for
the first time.’

Ignoring the comment,
Ve
rn grinned
at the two cowhands. ‘What say we—’

‘
Have you fed yet?’ Mark
interrupted.

‘
Ain’t hungry!’ Vern
replied.

‘
You will be comes nightfall,’ the big
blond stated. ‘Go and eat, we’re just headed there.’

‘
Sure, Mark,’ Vern said,
reining his horse around and sending it running towards the
cook
shack. Just before he reached the wall he turned the
tobiano
in a rump-scraping
swing and rode back to halt before the trio. ‘How about
that?’

‘
Not bad,’ Red Blaze commented dryly.
‘Trouble being, you’ll tucker the hoss out afore we get to the
herd.’

‘
Nah!’ Vern scoffed. ‘Ole Toby here
eats work. He’ll be running when the rest’re worn down to their
hocks.’

‘
Fool kid!’ Dawn snorted
as her brother turned and galloped back to the cook
shack. ‘Don’t pay
him no never mind. He’s just trying to make out he’s a
man.’

‘
We all start out that
way,’ Mark assured her and looked pointedly at Red. ‘Only some of
us stay like it
.’

‘
Don’t you pair get at it again,’ Dawn
groaned, for their bickering had kept her entertained the previous
evening. Then she became serious. ‘Mark, Red, will you do something
for me?’

‘
If we can,’ Red promised.

‘
Help me set Vern right.’

‘
How do you mean?’ Mark
inquired.

‘
You’ve just seen how he
acts
…
’ Dawn began.

‘
It’s harmless enough,’ Mark said
tolerantly. ‘We’re all excited. This’s a big thing we’re starting
out to do.’

‘
Yes,
but
—’
the girl started.

‘
Now listen, Dawn gal,’
Mark interrupted her. ‘Your pappy asked me what I thought about
having Vern along, and I said I reckoned he’d make a hand. I
didn’
t
say it just to please Vern—or rile you. I meant what I said. If
your pappy’s leg doesn’t get better, young Vern’ll have to grow up
fast; and I reckon going on this drive’ll make him.’

‘
He’s a fool
kid
—’
Red continued.

‘
He’s only
young
—’ Dawn corrected hotly, bristling indignation.

‘
Now me,’ grinned Red. ‘I
thought
you
was the one worrying
about
that.’

‘
And anyways,’ Mark went on, ‘give him
time. He’ll likely grow out of it. Like I said, most of us do in
the end.’