Alec Lloyd, Cowpuncher Part 33

_She_ wasn't hangin' on to the side of her hoss, no, ma'am! She was ridin' the prettiest _kind_ of a bronc, fat and sa.s.sy. And she was settin' a-straddle, straight and graceful, in a spick-and-span new suit, and a three-cornered hat like George Washington.

I let out a yell that would 'a' raised the hair of a reservation Injun.

"Macie Sewell!" I says--just like that. I give my blamed little nag a hit that put her into her jerky trot. And I come 'longside, humpin'

like Sam Hill.

She pulled her hoss down to a standstill; and them long eye-winkers of hern lifted straight up into the air, she was so surprised. "Alec!"

she says.

"Yas, Alec," I answers. "Aw, dear little gal, is y' glad t' see me?"

"Wal, what 're _you_ doin' here!" she goes on. "I cain't hardly believe what I see."

I was so blamed fl.u.s.tered, and so happy, and so--so scairt, that I had t' go say the _one_ thing that was plumb foolish. "I'm on hand t'

take you back home if you're ready," I answers. (Hole on till I give myself another good, ten-hoss-power kick!)

Up till now, her look 'd been all friendly enough. But now of a suddent it got cold and offish. "Take me home!" she begun; "_home!_ Wal, I like that! Why, I'm just about t' make a great, big success, _yas_. And I'll thank you not t' spoil my chanst with any more of you' tricks."

She swung her bronc round into the trail.

"Macie! Spoil you' chanst!" I answers. "Why, honey, I wouldn't do that. I only want t' be friends----"

Her eyes can give out fire just like her paw's. And when I said that, she give me one turrible mad stare. Then, she throwed up her chin, spurred her bronc, and went trottin' off, a-humpin' the same as the rest of the ladies.

I follered after her as fast as I could. "Macie," I says, "talk ain't goin' t' show you how I feel. And I'll not speak to you again till you want me to. But I'll allus be clost by. And if ever you need me----"

She set her hoss into a run then. So I fell behind--and come nigh pullin' the mouth plumb outen that crow-bait I was on. "Wal, Mister Cupid," I says to myself, "that Kansas cyclone the boss talked about seems t' be still a-movin'."

I wasn't discouraged, though,--I wasn't discouraged.

"One of these times," I says, "she'll come t' know that I only want t' help her."

Next mornin', I started my jumpin'-jack business again. And _that_ whack, I sh.o.r.e got a rough layout: 'Round and 'round that blamed park, two hunderd and forty-'leven times, without grub, 'r a drink, 'r even water! And me a-hirin' that hoss _by the hour!_

Just afore sundown, she showed up, and pa.s.sed me with her eyes fixed on a spot about two miles further on. A little huffy, yet, y' might say!

I joked to that three-card-monte feller, you recollect, about bein'

busted. Wal, it was beginnin' t' look like no joke. 'Cause that very next day I took some stuff acrosst the street to a p.a.w.nbroker gent's, and hocked it. Then I sit down and writ a postal card t' the boys.

"_Pa.s.s 'round the hat,_" I says on the postal card, "_and send me the collection. Bar that Mexic. Particulars later on._"

Wal, fer a week, things run smooth. When Mace seen it was no use to change the time fer her ride, she kept to the mornin'. It saved me a pile. But she wouldn't so much as look at me. Aw, I felt fewey, just _fewey_.

One thing I didn't figger on, though--that was the _po_lice. They're white, all right (I mean the _po_lice that ride 'round the park).

Pretty soon, they noticed I was allus ridin' behind Macie. I guess they thought I was tryin' to bother her. Anyhow, one of 'em stopped me one mornin'. "Young feller," he says, "you'd better ride along Riverside oncet in a while. Ketch on?"

"Yas, sir," I says, salutin'.

Wal, I _was_ up a stump. If I was to be druv out of the park, how was I ever goin' to be on hand when Macie 'd take a notion t' speak.

But I hit on a plan that was somethin' _won_-derful. I follered her out and found where she stalled her hoss. Next day, I borraed a'

outfit and waited nigh her barn till she come in sight. Then, I fell in behind--_dressed like one of them blamed grooms._

I thought I was slick, and I _was_--fer a week. But them park _po_lice is rapid on faces. And the first one that got a good square look at me and my togs knowed me instant. He didn't say nothin' to me, but loped off.

Pretty soon, another one come back--a moustached gent, a right dudey one, with yalla tucks on his sleeves.

He rides square up to me. "Say," he says, "are you acquainted with that young lady on ahaid?"

I tried to look as sad and innocent as a stray maverick. But it was no go. "Wal," I answers, "our hosses nicker to each other."

He pulled at his moustache fer a while. "_You_ ain't no groom," he says fin'lly. "Where you from?"

"I'm from the Bar Y Ranch, Oklahomaw."

"That so!" It seemed to plumb relieve him. All of a suddent, he got as friendly as the devil. "Wal, how's the stock business?" he ast.

And I says, "Cows is O. K." "And how's the climate down you' way?

And how's prospects of the country openin' up fer farmers?"

After that, I shed the groom duds, and not a _po_lice gent ever more 'n nodded at me. That Bar Y news seemed to make 'em sh.o.r.e easy in they conscience.

But that didn't help me any with _her_. She was just as offish as ever.

Why, one day when it rained, and we got under the same bridge, she just talked to her hoss all the time.

I went home desp'rate. The boys 'd sent me some cash, but I was shy again. And I'd been to the p.a.w.nbroker feller's so many times that I couldn't look a Jew in the face without takin' out my watch.

That night I mailed postal number two. "Take up a collection," I says again; and added, "Pull that greaser's laig."

I knowed it couldn't allus go on like that. And, by jingo! seems as if things come my way again. Fer one mornin', when I was settin' in a caffy eatin' slap-jacks, I heerd some fellers talkin' about a herd of Texas hosses that had stampeded in the streets the night back. Wal, I ast 'em a question 'r two, and then I lit out fer Sixty-four Street, my eyes plumb sore fer a look at a Western hoss with a' ingrowin' lope.

When I got to the corral, what do you think? Right in front of my eyes, a-lookin' at the herd, and a-pointin' out her pick, was--Macie Sewell!

I didn't let her see me. I just started fer a harness shop, and I bought a pair of spurs. "_Pre_pare, m' son," I says to myself; "it'll all be over soon. They's goin' to be trouble, Cupid, trouble, when Mace tries to ride a Texas bronc with a city edication that ain't complete."

She didn't show up in the park that day. I jigged 'round, just the same, workin' them spurs. But early next mornin', as I done time on my postage stamp, here Mace huv in sight.

Sh.o.r.e enough, she was on a new hoss. It was one of them blue roans, with a long tail, and a roached mane. Gen'ally that breed can go like greased lightnin', and outlast any other critter on four laigs. But this one didn't put up much speed that trip. She'd been car-bound seventeen days.

Clost behind her, I come, practicin' a knee grip.

Nothin' happened that mornin'. Ev'ry time she got where the trail runs 'longside the wagon-road, none of them locoed bull's-eye Simpson vehicles was a-pa.s.sin'. When she went to go into her stable, Mace slowed her down till the street cars was gone by. The blue roan was meeker 'n a blind purp.

But I knowed it couldn't _last_.

The next afternoon the roan come good and ready. She done a fancy gait into the park. Say! a J. I. C. bit couldn't a' helt her! 'Twixt Fifty-nine and the resservoyer, she lit just _four times;_ and ev'ry time she touched, she kicked dirt into the eyes of the stylish _po_lice gent that was keepin' in handy reach. A little further north, where they's a hotel, she stood on her hind laigs t' look at the scenery.

I begun to git scairt. "Speak 'r _no_ speak," I says to myself, "I'm goin' to move up."

That very minute, things come to a haid!

We was all three turned south, when 'long come a goggle-eyed smarty in one of them snortin' Studebakers. The second the smarty seen Mace was pretty, he blowed his horn to make her look at him. Wal! that roan turned tail and come nigh t' doin' a leap-frog over me. The skunk in the buzz-wagon tooted again. And we was off!