Jim Waring of Sonora-Town Part 27

The barbecue was a boisterous success. Although the day of large holdings was past, the event lacked nothing in numbers or enthusiasm.

The man who owned a hundred head of cattle was quite as popular as his neighbor who owned perhaps eight hundred or a thousand. Outfits fraternized, ran pony races, roped for prizes, and rode bucking horses, as their predecessors had raced, roped, and "rode 'em" in the days of old.

Lorry, itching to enter the roping contest, was checked by a suggestion from the genial Bud.

"I've heard you was top-hand with a rope. But you're a ranger, by the grace of G.o.d and me and John Torrance. Let the boy's play, but don't play with 'em yet. Keep 'em guessin' just how good you are. Let 'em get to know you slow--and solid."

Lorry accepted Bud's advice, and made himself popular with the various outfits by maintaining a silence when questioned as to how he "put High-Chin Bob out of business." The story of that affair had had a wide circulation, and gained interest when it became known that High Chin and his men were present. Their excuse for coming was only legitimate in that a barbecue draws no fine lines of distinction. Any one who has a horse and an appet.i.te is welcome. The Starr riders were from the northern county, but they would have been quite as welcome had they come from Alaska.

Bud Shoop was present in a suit of religiously severe black, his pants outside his boots. He had donned a white shirt and knotted a black silk bandanna round his short neck.

The morning was noisy with pony races, roping contests, and the riding of pitching horses. The events were not tabulated, but evolved through the unwritten law of precedent.

After the noon feast there was talk of a shooting-match. Few of the local men packed guns, and none of them openly. The Starr riders were the only exception. This fact was commented upon by some of the old-timers, who finally accosted Bud with the suggestion that he "show that Starr outfit what a gun was made for." Bud declined.

"I ain't had a gun in my hand, except to clean it, since I quit punchin'," he told them. "And, anyhow, I'm no fancy gun sharp."

"High Chin and his outfit is sure handin' it to us," complained the old-timers. "And you're about the only man here who could show 'em."

"No use provin' it to 'em when they know it," Bud said.

The committee retired and consulted among themselves. Bud was talking with a cattleman when they again accosted him.

"Say, Bud, them Starr boys has cleaned us out on ropin' and racin'. We trimmed 'em on ridin'. Now that makes two to one, and we're askin' you as a old-timer if we're goin' to let them fellas ride north a-tellin'

every hay-t.o.s.s.e.r atween here and Stacey that we're a bunch of jays?"

"Oh, shucks!" was all Bud had to say.

"And that High-Chin Bob says he aims to hang young Adams's scalp on his belt afore he gits through," a.s.serted a townsman.

"I'll set in the game," said Bud.

And he waddled across the street to his office. In a few minutes he came back and mingled with the crowd. The Starr boys were pitching dollars at a mark when Bud and a companion strolled past. High Chin invited Shoop to join in the game. Shoop declined pleasantly.

"Things is runnin' slow," said a Starr man. "Wish I'd 'a' fetched my music along. Mebby I could git somebody to sing me to sleep."

Bud laughed. "Have a good time, boys." And he moved on.

"That was one for you--and yore piano," said his companion.

"Mebby so. We'll let that rest. I'm lookin' for a friend of mine." And Shoop edged along the crowd.

The man that Shoop was looking for was standing alone beneath the shade of an acacia, watching the crowd. He was a tall, heavy man, dark-featured, with a silver-gray beard and brown eyes that seemed to twinkle with amus.e.m.e.nt even when his lips were grim. The giant sheepman of the south country was known to every one on account of his great physique and his immense holdings in land and sheep. Shoop talked with him for a few minutes. Together they strolled back to the crowd.

The Starr boys were still pitching dollars when Shoop and the sheepman approached.

"Who's top-hand in this game?" queried Shoop genially.

"High Chin--and at any game you got," said a Starr man.

"Well, now!"

"Any game you got."

Shoop gazed about, saw Lorry, and beckoned to him.

"Here's my candidate," said Shoop. "He kep' out of the ropin' so as to give you fellas a chance." And he turned to Lorry. "Give him a whirl,"

he said, indicating High Chin. "It's worth a couple of dollars just to find out how good he is."

High Chin surveyed the circle of faces, poised a dollar, and threw it.

Lorry threw and lost. High Chin pocketed the two dollars. The Starr boys grinned. High Chin threw again. The dollar slid close to the line. Lorry shied his dollar and knocked the other's coin several feet away from the line.

"Try him ag'in," said Shoop.

Lorry tossed again. His dollar dropped on the line. High Chin threw. His coin clinked squarely on Lorry's, but spun off, leaving it undisturbed.

"You break even--at that game," said Shoop. "It was a good shot."

"Folks been sayin' the same of you," said High Chin, turning to the supervisor.

"Oh, folks will talk. They're made that way," chuckled Shoop.

"Well, I got ten bucks that says High Chin can outshoot any hombre in this crowd," said a Starr boy.

"I'm right glad you got it," said Shoop pleasantly.

"Meanin' I stand to lose it, eh?"

"Oh, gosh, no! You're steppin' on your bridle. I was congratulatin' you on your wealth."

"I ain't seen that you been flashin' any money," said the cowboy.

"Nope. That ain't what money's made for. And I never bet on a sure thing. Ain't no fun in that."

The giant sheepman, whose movements were as deliberate as the sun's, slowly reached in his pocket and drew out a leather pouch. He counted out forty dollars in gold-pieces.

"I'll lay it even," he said, his eyes twinkling, "that Bud Shoop can outshoot any man in the crowd."

"I'll take ten of that," said the Starr man.

"And I'll take ten," said another cowboy.

"John," said Shoop, turning to the sheepman, "you're a perpendicular dam' fool."

Word went forth that High-Chin Bob, of the Starr, and Bud Shoop were to shoot a match for a thousand dollars a side, and some of the more enthusiastic believed it. In a few minutes the street was empty of all save the ponies at the hitching-rails.

In a shallow arroyo back of town the excited throng made wagers and talked of wonderful shots made by the princ.i.p.als. High Chin was known as a quick and sure shot. Shoop's reputation was known to fewer of the crowd. The Starr boys backed their foreman to the last cent. A judge was suggested, but declined as being of the locality. Finally the giant sheepman, despite his personal wager, was elected unanimously. He was known to be a man of absolute fairness, and qualified to judge marksmanship. He agreed to serve, with the proviso that the Starr boys or any of High Chin's friends should feel free to question his decisions. The crowd solidified back of the line, where Shoop and High Chin stood waiting for the test.

The marksmen faced two bottles on a rock some thirty paces away. At the word, each was to "go for his gun" and shoot. High Chin carried his gun in the usual holster. Bud Shoop's gun was tucked in the waistband of his pants.