“I’ll attend to all that, right away.”
Miss Hallman decided that she had nothing further to say to Mr. Green. She wheeled her horse rather abruptly and rode off with a curt goodbye. Miss Allen, being new at the business of handling a horse, took more time in pulling her mount around. While her back was turned to Florence Grace and her face was turned toward Pink and Andy, she gave them a twinkling glance that had one lowered eyelid to it, twisted her lips, and spoke sharply to her horse. They might make of it what they would. Florence Grace looked back impatiently—perhaps suspiciously also—and saw Miss Allen coming on with docile haste.
So that ended the interview which Miss Hallman had meant to be so impressive. A lot of nonsense that left a laugh behind and the idea that Miss Allen at least did not disapprove of harassing claim-jumpers. Andy Green was two hundred per cent. more cheerful after that, and his brain was more active and his determination more fixed. For all that he stared after them thoughtfully.
“She winked at us—if I’ve got eyes in my head. What do you reckon she meant, Pink?” he asked when the two riders had climbed over the ridge. “And what she said about the bold, bad men shooting holes that have to be plugged up—and about liking a nice, smooth atmosphere? Do you suppose she meant that it’s liable to take bold, bad men to clean the atmosphere, or—”
“What difference does it make what she meant? There’s jumpers left—two on Bud’s place—and he’s oary-eyed over it, and was going to read ’em the riot act proper, when I left to come over here. And a couple of men drove onto that south eighty of Mig’s with a load of lumber, just as I come by. Looks to me like we’ve got our hands full, Andy. There’ll be holes to plug up somewhere besides in the atmosphere, if you ask me.”
“Long as they don’t get anything on us I ain’t in the state of mind where I give a darn. That little brown-eyed Susan’ll keep us posted if they start anything new—what did she mean by that wink, do you reckon?”
“Ah, don’t get softening of the emotions,” Pink advised impatiently. “That’s the worst thing we’ve got to steer clear of, Andy! All them women in the game is going to make it four times as hard to stand ’em off. Irish is foolish over this one you’re gettin’ stuck on—you’ll be fighting each other, if you don’t look out. That Florence Grace lady ain’t so slow—she’s going to use the women to keep us fellows guessing.”
Andy sighed. “We can block that play, of course,” he said. “Come on, Pink, let’s go round up the boys and see what’s been taking place with them cattle. Shipped in four carloads already, have they?” He began pulling on his chaps rather hurriedly. “Worst of it is, you can’t stampede a bunch of darned tame cows, either,” he complained.
They found Irish and the Native Son on day-herd, with the cattle scattered well along the western line of the claims. Big Medicine, Weary, Cal Emmett and Jack Bates were just returning from driving the settlers’ stock well across Antelope Coulee which had been decided upon as a hypothetical boundary line until such time as a fence could be built.
They talked with the day-herders, and they talked with the other four. Chip came up from the ranch with the Kid riding proudly beside him on Silver, and told them that the Honorable Mr. Blake was at the Flying U and had sent word that he would be pleased to take the legal end of the fight, if the Happy Family so desired. Which was in itself a vast encouragement. The Honorable Blake had said that they were well within their rights thus far, and advised them to permit service of the contest notices, and to go calmly on fulfilling the law. Which was all very well as far as it went, providing they were permitted to go on calmly.
“What about them cattle they’re trying to git across our land?” Slim wanted to know. “We got a right to keep ’em off, ain’t we?”
Chip said that he thought they had, but to make sure, he would ask the Honorable Blake. Trespassing, he said, might be avoided—
Right there Andy was seized with an idea. He took Chip—because of his artistic talents which, he said, had been plumb wasted lately—to one side. After wards they departed in haste, with Pink and Weary galloping close at their heels. In a couple of hours they returned to the boundary where the cattle still fed all scattered out in a long line, and behind them drove Pink and Weary in the one wagon which the Family possessed.
“It oughta help some,” grinned Andy, when the Native Son came curiously over to see what it was they were erecting there on the prairie. “It’s a fair warning, and shows ’em where to head in at.”
The Native Son read the sign, which was three feet long and stood nailed to two posts ready for planting solidly in the earth. He showed his even, white teeth in a smile of approval. “Back it up, and it ought to do some good,” he said.
They dug holes and set the posts, and drove on to where they meant to plant another sign exactly like the first. That day they planted twelve sign-boards along their west line. They might not do any good, but they were a fair warning and as such were worth the trouble.
That afternoon Andy was riding back along the line when he saw a rider pull up at the first sign and read it carefully. He galloped in haste to the spot and found that his suspicions were correct; it was Miss Allen.
“Well,” she said when he came near, “I suppose that means me. Does it?” She pointed to the sign, which read like this:
WARNING!!
NO TRESPASSING EAST OF HERE
All Shacks, Live-Stock and Pilgrims
Promptly AND Painfully Removed
From These Premises
“I’m over the line,” she notified him, pulling her horse backward a few feet. “You’re getting awfully particular, seems to me. Oh, did you know that a lot of men are going to play it’s New Year’s Eve and hold watch meetings tonight?”
“Never heard a word about it,” he declared truthfully, and waited for more.
“That’s not strange—seeing it’s a surprise party. Still—I’m sure you are expected to—attend.”
“And where is all this to take place?” Andy looked at her intently, smiling a little.
“Oh, over there—and there—and there.” She pointed to three new shacks—the official dwellings of certain contestants. “Stag parties, they are, I believe. But I doubt if they’ll have any very exciting time; most of these new settlers are too busy getting the ground ready for crops, to go to parties. Some people are pretty disgusted, I can tell you, Mr. Green. Some people talk about ingratitude and wonder why the colony doesn’t hang together better. Some people even wonder why it is that folks are interested mainly in their own affairs, and decline to attend watch meetings and—receptions. So I’m afraid very few, except your nearest neighbors, will be present, after all might I ask when you expect to—to move again, Mr. Green?”
Smiling still, Andy shook his head. “I expect to be pretty busy this spring,” he told her evasively. “Aren’t any of you ladies invited to those parties, Miss Allen?”
“Not a one. But let me tell you something, Mr. Green. Some folks think that perhaps we lady-settlers ought to organize a club for the well being of our intellects. Some folks are trying to get up parties just for women—see the point? They think it would be better for the—atmosphere.”
“Oh.” Andy studied the possibilities of such a move. If Florence Grace should set the women after them, he could see how the Happy Family would be hampered at every turn. “Well, I must be going. Say, did you know this country is full of wild animals, Miss Allen? They prowl around nights. And there’s a gang of wild men that hang out up there in those mountains—they prowl around nights, too. They’re outlaws. They kill off every sheriff’s