Essential Western Novels - Volume 4. Max Brand
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store in which the postoffice was located; and after purchasing some stationery and a postage stamp, he wrote a brief letter, sealed and addressed the envelope, and dropped it into the slot for outgoing mail.
That he was the object of the amused interest of the few people whom he encountered in the store and on the street did not appear to concern him at all; and after watering the sorrel and readjusting the blanket and cinches, he mounted and started back through the growing dusk toward the ranch, where the guests were already sitting down to supper.
"Where is Bruce?" asked Dora Crowell, when, the meal half over, he had not appeared.
"He went out hunting horses' teeth," said Blaine. "I reckon he didn't have much luck."
"Who ever heard of a horse's tooth bringing good luck?" demanded Birdie Talbot.
"No one," said her husband.
"I think he's crazy," said Birdie.
"Oh, he seemed a very nice young man," said Miss Pruell.
"Birdie thinks anyone's crazy who doesn't play bridge with her," said Benson.
"Nothing of the sort," snapped Birdie. "I just think they're a little peculiar."
"Do you remember the English lord, Birdie, who made such a wonderful bridge partner at Fishkill-on-the-Hudson that summer?"
"That might have happened to anyone," snapped Mrs. Talbot.
"Birdie was always quoting him as an authority on bridge and everything else until they came and took him away. He had escaped from Matteawan."
"And wasn't he an English lord at all?" asked Miss Pruell.
"No," said Talbot, "he had been a school teacher in Poughkeepsie until the night he killed his wife for trumping his ace."
Experience had taught Cory Blaine that his Eastern guests especially enjoyed the stories and the rough humor of the cowhands, and so it was customary for some of the men to stroll up to the house during the evening and join the group upon the wide veranda.
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X
BLAINE IS JEALOUS
TONIGHT they were later than usual in coming, and only Bud and Butts put in an appearance.
"Where's the dude with the panties?" inquired Bud, noting Marvel's absence.
"He is out looking for a horse's tooth," explained Dora.
"The poor nut," said Butts disgustedly, "hoofin' it around at night looking for a horse's tooth."
"He is not on foot and he started out in the daytime," said Kay White. "Don't you think someone ought to go out and look for him, Cory?"
"What's he ridin'?" asked Bud.
"The sorrel colt," said Blaine.
Butts whistled. "Sure we better go out and look for him," he said, "and we better take a basket or some blotting paper."
"Why?" asked Kay.
"That there sorrel's probably killed the dude by this time and spread him all over the landscape," explained Butts. "He sure is some ornery bronc."
"Oh, Cory, you shouldn't have let him take a bad horse like that," said Kay.
"I warned him," said Blaine, "but he wanted to take the horse anyway."
"You sure better send out a search party, Cory," said Butts. "That colt has the makin's of a good horse in him. It would be too bad to lose him."
"Here comes someone now," exclaimed Dora Crowell; and as all eyes turned in the direction of the road they saw a horseman approaching.
He rode up to the veranda. "Is Butts here?" he asked, and they recognized the voice as Marvel's.
"Yea," said Butts. "What do you want?"
Marvel dismounted. "Take my horse, my man," he said.
If there is anything that will wreck a cowman's equanimity it is to be treated like a menial; and no carefully studied insult would have been more effective than the use of "my man" in addressing the puncher; but Cory Blaine, who was sitting next to Butts, nudged him with his elbow before the man could make an angry reply; and Butts arose, boiling with rage, and taking the reins from Marvel led the colt away toward the stables.
"Where you been so long?" asked Blaine.
"I guess I must have got lost," exclaimed Marvel.
"Did you have any trouble with the colt?" asked Bud.
"Not a bit," said Marvel. "He was just like a kitten."
"Didn't he pitch at all?" asked Blaine.
"Not a pitch," replied Marvel.
"And you didn't find a horse's tooth?" asked Birdie.
"No," replied Marvel, "I didn't; but I'm going to get Bud to take me down tomorrow to where he knows there is a dead horse. Will you do that, Bud?"
"What dead horse?" demanded Blaine.
"I heard somebody say something about a horse dropping dead here a few weeks ago," explained Bruce.
"Sure I'll take you down tomorrow," said Bud.
"You must be hungry," said Kay. "You haven't had any supper, have you?"
"It won't hurt me any to miss a meal," said Bruce.
"Come on, I'll get you a sandwich," said Kay. "I guess the cook won't murder me." She arose and led the way into the kitchen.
"This is mighty good of you, Kay," said Marvel; "but I didn't want to put anyone to any trouble. I should not have been late."
The darkness hid the scowl upon Blaine's face. He muttered something under his breath.
"What was that, Cory?" asked Dora.
"There's something fishy about that bozo," said Blaine, recalling Marvel's statement that the colt had not pitched with him.
"Oh, any tenderfoot might get lost here after dark," contended the girl.
"Tenderfoot, my hat!" mumbled Blaine.
"The colt would have come back by himself, if he'd given him his head," said Bud. "He's raised right here on the ranch."
By the time Kay and Bruce had returned from the kitchen, Butts had come back from the stables. "You must have rid that horse pretty hard, Mister," he said to Marvel.
"Must I?" inquired Bruce.
"That's what I said, Mister," snapped Butts in an ugly tone.
"I heard you, my man," replied Marvel. "I aint deaf."
Butts started to rise. It was evident to him, as it was to some of the others, that Marvel was deliberately baiting him. His voice had been soft and low, but he had put just the right inflection on certain words to raise them to the dignity of insults.
Blaine laid a hand upon Butts' leg. "Sit down," he said in a low voice.
"I aint goin' to let no—"
"Sit down," said Blaine sharply, "and shut up." And Butts did as he was bid.
"What's new?" asked Marvel. "It seems almost like I've been gone a week."
"I got a letter from my father," said Kay. "He may be along here any day."
"Is that so," said Bruce. "Well that surely is nice."
"When did he say he'd get here?" asked Cory.
"He didn't say exactly; in fact, he didn't know when he could start; but from what he did write I