The Fighting Shepherdess Part 3

As a matter of fact he _knew_ that his name was Teeters, but injecting an element of doubt into it in this fas.h.i.+on seemed somehow to make the telling easier. Teeters was bad enough, but combined with Clarence! Only Mr. Teeters knew the effort it cost him to tell his name to strangers.

He added with the air of a man determined to make a clean breast of it:

"I'm from Missoury."

The Major's hand shot out unexpectedly.

"Shake!" he cried warmly. "I was drug up myself at the foot of the Ozarks."

"I pulled out when I was a kid and wrangled 'round considerible."

Teeters made the statement as an extenuating circ.u.mstance.

"I took out naturalization papers myself," replied the Major good-humoredly. "My name is Prouty--Stephen Douglas Prouty. You'll prob'ly hear of me if you stay in the country. The fact is, I'm thinkin'

of startin' a town and namin' it Prouty."

"Shoo--you don't say so!" In polite inquiry, "Whur?"

"Thur!"

Mr. Teeters looked a little blank as he stared at the town site indicated.

"It seems turrible fur from water," he commented finally.

"Sink--drill--artesian well--maybe we'll strike a regular subterranean river. Anyway, 'twould be no trick at all to run a ditch from Dead Horse Canyon and get all the water we want." He waved his arm at the distant mountains and settled that objection.

"Wouldn't them alkali bogs breedin' a billion 'no-see-'ems' a second be kind of a drawback?" inquired Teeters tentatively.

"That'll all be drained, covered with sile and seeded down in lawns,"

replied the Major quickly. "In two year that spot'll be bloomin' like the Garden of Eden.

"I've got to be movin'," the Major continued. "I'm on my way from a cornerstone layin' at Buffalo Waller to a barbecue at No Wood Crick. I'm kind of an orator," he added modestly.

"And I got about three hundred head of calves to drag to the fire, if I kin git my rope on 'em," said Teeters, straightening in the saddle.

The Major asked in instant interest:

"Oh, you're workin' for that wealthy eastern outfit?"

"Don't know how wealthy they be, but they're plenty eastern," Teeters replied dryly.

"I was thinkin' I might stop over night with 'em and git acquainted. The Scissors Outfit can't be more'n fifteen mile out of my way, and it'll be a kind of a change from the Widder Taylor's, whur I stop generally."

The cowboy combed the horse's mane with his fingers in silence. After waiting a reasonable time for the invitation which should have been forthcoming, the Major inquired:

"They're--sociable, ain't they?"

"They ain't never yit run out in the road and drug anybody off his horse," replied Teeters grimly. "They charge four bits a meal to strangers."

"What?" Surely his ears had deceived him.

Inspired by the Major's dumbfounded expression, the cowboy continued:

"They have their big meal at night and call it dinner, and they wash their hands at the table when they git done eatin', and Big Liz has to lope in from the kitchen when she hears the bell tinkle and pa.s.s 'em somethin' either one of 'em could git by reachin'." He lowered his voice confidentially, "Most any meal I look fur her to hit one of 'em between the horns."

The Major stared round-eyed, breathless, like a child listening to a fairy tale which he feared would end if he interrupted.

"In the evenin' the boss puts on a kind of eatin' jacket, a sawed-off coat that makes a growed man look plumb foolish, and she comes out in silk and satin that shows considerable hide. Have you met this here Toomey?"

"Not yet; that's a pleasure still in store for me."

"Pleasure!" exclaimed Teeters, who took the polite phrase literally.

"More like you'll want to knock his head off. Old Timer," he leaned over the saddle horn, "seein' as you're from Missoury, I'll tell you private that you'd better keep on travelin'. Company ain't wanted at the Scissor Outfit, and they'd high-tone it over you so 'twouldn't be noways enjoyable."

"There is plenty of ranches where I am welcome," replied the Major with dignity. "I kin make the Widder Taylor's by sundown."

"Miss Maggie plays good on the pianner," Teeters commented, expectorating violently to conceal a certain embarra.s.sment.

"And the doughnuts the old lady keeps in that crock on the kitchen table is worth a day's ride to git to." The Major closed an eye and with the other looked quizzically at Teeters, adding, "If it wa'nt for Starlight--"

"Starlight is sh.o.r.e some Injun," replied the cowboy, grinning understandingly.

"Now what for an outfit's that?"

The moving cloud of dust which the Major had forgotten in his keen interest in the conversation was almost upon them. "A band of woolies, a pack burro, one feller walkin', and another ridin'."

The cowboy's eyes were unfriendly, though he made no comment as they waited.

"Howdy!" called the Major genially as, with a nod, the herder would have pa.s.sed without speaking.

The stranger responded briefly, but stopped.

"Come fur?" inquired the Major sociably.

"Utah."

"Goin' fur?"

"Until I find a location. I rather like the looks of this section."

"Sheep spells 'trouble' in this country," said the cowboy, significantly.

"Think so?" indifferently.

Seeing Teeters was about to say something further, the Major interrupted:

"What might I call your name, sir?"

"Just say 'Joe,' and I'll answer."