The Dude Wrangler Page 8

  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 theMaine coast until transformed into a French sardine by Canby, Sr. It hadbrought wealth and renown to the shrewd old Yankee, who was alleged tohave smelled of herring even in his coffin, but the Canby family werenot given to boasting of the source of their income to strangers, and bythe time Canby, Jr., was graduated from Harvard they were fairly welldeodorized.

  In the East many things had conspired to make the young Canby themisanthrope and recluse he had come to be in Wyoming, where he was fullyaided and abetted in his desire for seclusion by his neighbours, whodisliked him so thoroughly that they went out of their way to avoidspeaking to him.

  Having been graduated without distinction, he concentrated his effortsupon an attempt to become one of a New England coterie that politely butfirmly refused to do more than admit his existence.

  In pursuance of his ambition he built a castle-like residence andspecialized in orchids and roses, purchased a yacht, became an exhibitorat the Horse Show. Society praised his roses, but their admiration didnot extend to Canby; he went on solitary cruises, in his floating palaceand the Horse Show, which had proved an open sesame to others, in hiscase 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. Thedivorce court ended the arrangement, and Canby had the privilege ofpaying a king's ransom in alimony into one of Boston's first families.

  Petty, unscrupulous, overbearing, Canby never attributed his failure tothe proper cause, which was his unpleasant personality, but regarded itas a conspiracy on the part of Society to defeat him in his ambition andaccordingly came to hate it.

  When he was not travelling he spent his time on the feudal estate he hadcreated in Wyoming, where he had no visitors except Helene Spenceley andher brother, who came occasionally when invited. Protecting himself frominvasion from the smaller cattlemen and homesteaders was in the natureof a recreation to Canby, who had various methods of ridding himself oftheir presence.

  Boise Bill was one of those he kept for the purpose of intimidatingprospective settlers and was considered by him his ablest lieutenant.Theretofore when that person returned and stated that the job of runningoff the newcomer was one he did not care to tackle further, Canby couldnot 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 reportto Canby, the ludicrous side of the encounter grew on him until itoutweighed the chagrin he first had felt at getting the worst of it.

  Thinking of Wallie in his "dude" clothes, his face pale and his eyesgleaming, 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 offand 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-tileas 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 insouthern Idyho that's dependin' on me and I can't afford to takechances."

  "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 thefire 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 hisintentions.

  * * * * *

  Pinkey put up Wallie's silk tent and staked it, showed him how to hobbleand 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, butyou'll be jest as happy as if you was in your right mind, onct you gitused to it," he assured 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 twochipmunks so I could lead 'em anywhur. You wouldn't believe what companythey was for me."

  Wallie agreed that it was an idea, but he was privately of the opinionthat there would be a limit to the pleasure which the company ofchipmunks, however accomplished, could afford him.

  "If only I had a congenial neighbour," he sighed, "it would make a greatdifference."

  "There's Canby--you might call on him," Pinkey suggested, grinning. "Orif you ketch yourself pickin' at the bed-clothes you can saddle up andscamper over and see me. 'Tain't fur--forty miles across the mounting.Jest below that notch--you can't miss it."

  Wallie had looked at the notch often since then. He was staring at itthe evening Canby rode down on him--staring and thinking so hard ofHelene Spenceley that Canby had checked his horse and was looking at himbefore he saw him.

  It would be impossible to say which was the more astonished.

  Instead of the fearsome person Canby had anticipated, he saw one sodifferent and at the same time so extraordinary that he could notimmediately collect himself.

  Wallie's trunks had followed him, together with a supply of provisions,and now, his day's work done, he was sitting in front of his tent on apatent camp-chair garbed in whatsoever had come handiest.

  Canby's eyes rested upon a mild-looking young man in a purple silklounging robe, hob-nailed mountain boots, and a yachting cap with ablack patent-leather visor. He was smoking a cigarette with a gold tipand a monogram, held in a hand that was white and carefully manicured.

  In his surprise, Canby said: "Good evening," almost amiably.

  Wallie, in turn, saw a visitor who looked as if he might just havereturned from a canter through Central Park. His appearance was sohomelike and familiar that Wallie went forward with a radiant smile ofwelcome. Before he knew it Canby found himself shaking hands vigorouslywith the person he had come to quarrel with.

  Wallie was sure that it was Canby but it flashed through his mind thatperhaps he was not so black as he was painted and Pinkey was given toexaggeration, and very likely Boise Bill had acted upon his owninitiative. At any rate, after four days of solitude Wallie would havebeen delighted to see his Satanic Majesty; so, with his most engagingsmile, he invited Canby to dismount and stated that his name was"Macpherson."

  Canby could do nothing less than give his name also, though he refusedthe invitation. Whereupon Wallie declared heartily:

  "I take this as very nice and neighbourly of you, Mr. Canby, and pleasebelieve I appreciate it!"

  Canby bowed but said nothing.

  "You see, I'm a newcomer," Wallie babbled, "and I have so many things tolearn that you can teach me. I consider myself fortunate in having aneighbour of your experience, and if you will let me I shall come to youfor advice often."

  "Don't hesitate to call on me." In Canby's eyes there was something likea glint of amusement.

  Wallie went on guilelessly, finding it an extreme relief, after hisenforced silence, to have an ear to talk into.

  "The fact is," confidentially, "I may not look it but I am a good dealof a tenderfoot."

  "Indeed?" Canby raised a politely surprised eyebrow.

  "Yes," he prattled on, "I am totally ignorant of agricultural matters;but I hope to learn and make a good thing, ultimately, out of thisdry-farming proposition. I've got a little money, and I intend to investit in developing this homestead. By mixing brains with industry I hopeby next fall to get an ample return upon my money and labour. I trust Iam not to
o optimistic?"

  "It would not seem so," Mr. Canby replied, guardedly. "How are you fixedfor horses?"

  "I was just going to ask you about that," Wallie exclaimed. "I want toplow, and haul some fence posts, and I shall need horses. Can yourecommend a team that would suit me?"

  "Next Thursday at two o'clock there will be a stock sale at my place andI have no doubt that you will be able to pick up something there foryour purpose."

  "That's splendid!" Wallie cried, delightedly. "I shall seek you out, Mr.Canby, and ask you to assist me in making a selection. I've beenthinking of buying a cow, too--this is rare good luck, isn't it, to beable to purchase what I need without going so far for it!"

  "I shall be present--hunt me up--two o'clock, Thursday."

  With a smile and a nod Canby gathered up his reins and departed whileWallie with a glowing face looked after him and declared aloud:

  "That's what I call real Western sociability!"