The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop. Garland Hamlin
Читать онлайн книгу.
didn't like his growing familiarity, but she dissembled. "Sit here, George," she said, indicating a chair at the end. "I will sit where I can reach the coffee."
"Let me do that," said Calvin. "Louie, I guess you're not in this game," he said to the boy looking wistfully in at the door.
"Oh, let him come – he's as hungry as we are. Let him sit down," protested Jennie.
Young Streeter acquiesced. "It's all the same to me, if you don't object to a 'breed," he said, brutally. Louie took his seat in silence, but it was plain he did not enjoy the insolence of the cowboy.
Curtis was after information. "You speak of needing guns – there isn't any danger, I hope?"
"Well, not right now, but we expect to get Congress to pass a bill removing these brutes, and then there may be trouble. Even now we find it safer to go armed. Every little while some Injun kills a beef for us, and we want to be prepared to skin 'em if we jump 'em up in time. I wouldn't trust one of 'em as far as you could throw a yearling bull by the tail."
"Are they as bad as that?" asked Jennie, with widely open eyes.
"They're treacherous hounds. Old Elk goes around smiling, but he'd let a knife into me too quick if he saw his chance. Hark!" he called, with lifted hand.
They all listened. The swift drumming of hoofs could be heard, mingled with the chuckle of a carriage. Calvin rose. "That's the old man, I reckon," and going to the door he raised a peculiar whoop. A voice replied faintly, and soon the buggy rolled up to the door and the new-comer entered the front room. A quick, sharp voice cried out:
"Whose hat is that? Who's here?"
"A feller on his way to visit the agent. He's in there eatin' supper."
A rapid, resolute step approached the door, and Curtis looked up to meet the keen eyes of a big, ruddy-faced man of fifty, with hair and beard as white as wool. His eyes were steel-blue and penetrating as fire.
"Good-evening, sir. Good-evening, madam. Don't rise. Keep your seats. I'll just drop my coat and sit down with you."
He was so distinctly a man of remarkable quality that Curtis stared at him in deep surprise. He had expected to see a loose-jointed, slouchy man of middle-age, but Joseph Streeter was plainly a man of decision and power. His white hair did not betoken weakness or age, for he moved like one in the full vigor of his late manhood. To his visitors he appeared to be a suspicious, irascible, and generous man.
"Hello!" he called, jovially, "biscuit! Cal, you didn't do these, nor Hosy, neither."
Cal grinned. "Well, not by a whole row o' dogs. This – lady did 'em."
Streeter turned his vivid blue eyes on Jennie. "I want to know! Well, I'm much obliged. When did you come?" he asked of Curtis.
"About an hour ago."
"Goin' far?"
"Over to the agency."
"Friend of the agent?"
"No, but I have a letter of introduction to him."
Streeter seemed to be satisfied. "You'll find him a very accommodating gentleman."
"So I hear," said Curtis, and some subtle inflection in his tone caused Streeter to turn towards him again.
"What did I understand your name was?"
"Curtis."
"Where from?"
"San Francisco."
"Oh yes. I think I heard Sennett speak of you. Those biscuit are mighty good. I'll take another. Couldn't persuade you to stay here, could I?" He turned to Jennie.
Jennie laughed. "I'm afraid not – it's too lonesome."
Cal seized the chance to say: "It ain't so lonesome as it looks now. We're a lively lot here sometimes."
Streeter gave him a glance which stopped him. "Cal, you take Hosy and go over to the camp and tell the boys to hustle in two hundred steers. I want to get 'em passed on to-morrow afternoon, or next day sure."
Calvin's face fell. "I don't think I need to go. Hosy can carry the orders just as well as me," he said, boyishly sullen.
"I want you to go!" was the stern answer, and it was plain that Streeter was commander even of his reckless son.
As he rose from the table, Calvin said, in a low voice, to Jennie, "I'll be here to breakfast all right, and I'll see that you get over to the agency."
Streeter the elder upon reflection considered that his guests had not sufficiently accounted for themselves, and, after Calvin left, again turned a penetrating glance on Curtis, saying, in a peculiar way, "Where did you say you were from?"
"San Francisco," replied Curtis, promptly, and cut in ahead with a question of his own. "You seem to be well supplied with munitions of war. Do you need all those guns now?"
"Need every shell. We're going to oust these devils pretty soon, and they know it, and they're ugly."
"What do you mean by ousting 'em?"
"We're pushing a bill to have 'em removed."
"Where to?"
"Oh, to the Red River reservation, or the Powder Valley; we're not particular, so that we get rid of 'em."
Jennie tingled with indignation as Streeter outlined the plans of the settlers and told of his friction with the redmen, but Curtis remained calm and smiling.
"You'll miss their market for your beef, won't you?"
"Oh, that's a small item in comparison with the extra range we'll get," and thereupon he entered upon a long statement of what the government ought to do.
Jennie rose wearily, and the old man was all attention.
"I suppose you are tired and would like to go to bed?"
"We are rather limp," confessed Curtis, glad to escape the searching cross-examination which he knew would follow Jennie's retirement.
When they were alone the two young people looked at each other in silence, Jennie with big, horrified eyes, Curtis with an amused comprehension of his sister's feeling. "Isn't he a pirate? He doesn't know it, but his state of mind makes him indictable for murder on the high seas."
"George, I don't like this. We are going to have trouble if this old man and his like are not put off this reservation."
"Well, now, we won't put him off to-night, especially as he is a gallant host. But this visit here has put me in touch with the cattlemen. I feel that I know their plans and their temper very clearly."
"George, I will not sleep here in this room alone. You must make up a cot-bed or something. These people make me nervous, with their guns and Mexican servants."
"Don't you worry, sis. I'll roll up in a blanket and sleep across your door-sill," and this he did, acknowledging the reasonableness of her fears.
III
CURTIS ASSUMES CHARGE OF THE AGENT
During the night Curtis was quite sure he heard a party of men ride up to the door, but in the morning there remained no signs of them.
They were early on their feet, and Calvin, true to his promise, was present to help get breakfast. He had shaved some time during the night, and wore a new shirt with a purple silk handkerchief looped about his neck, and Jennie found it hard to be as cold and severe with him as she had resolved upon. He was only a big, handsome boy, after all.
"I'm going to send that half-breed back and take you over to the fort myself," he said to Curtis.
"No, I can't have that," Curtis sharply replied. "If you care to ride with us over to the fort I've no objection, but Louie will carry out his contract with us." The truth was, he did not care to be under any further obligation to the Streeters.
Breakfast was a hurried and rather silent meal. As they rose, Jennie said, apologetically: "I fear I can't stop to do up the dishes. It is a long, hard ride to the fort."
"That's right," replied Calvin, "it's close on thirty-five miles.