The Ridin' Kid from Powder River Part 62

"Mebby. But she don't stand any too steady when a poor man wants to fork her and ride out of trouble. He's got to have a morral full of grain to git her to stand--and even then she's like to pitch him if she gits a chanct. I figure she's a bronco that never was broke right."

"Well,"--and Owen smiled,--"we got pitched this time. We lost our case."

"You kind o' stepped up on the wrong side," laughed Pete.

"I don't know about that. _Somebody_ killed Sam Brent."

"I reckon they did. But supposin'--'speakin' kind o' offhand'--that you had the fella--and say I was witness, and swore the fella killed Brent in self-defense--where would he git off?"

"That would depend entirely on his reputation--and yours."

"How about the reputation of the fella that was killed?"

"Well, it was Brent's reputation that got you off to-day, as much as your own. Brent was foreman for The Spider, which put him in bad from the start, and he was a much older man than you. He was the kind to do just what you said he did--try to hold you up and get The Spider's money. It was a mighty lucky thing for you that you managed to get that money to the bank before they got you. You were riding straight all right, only you were on the wrong side of the fence, and I guess you knew it."

"I sure did."

"Well, it ain't for me to tell you which way to head in. You know what you're doing. You've got what some folks call Character, and plenty of it. But you're wearin' a reputation that don't fit."

"Same as clothes, eh?"--and Pete grinned.

"Yes. And you can change _them_--if you want to change 'em."

"But that there character part stays jest the same, eh?"

"Yes. You can't change that."

"Don't know as I want to. But I'm sure goin' to git into my other clothes, and take the trail over the hill that you was talkin' about."

"There are six ways to travel from here,"--and the sheriff's eyes twinkled.

"Six? Now I figured about four."

"Six. When it comes to direction, the old Hopis had us beat by a couple of trails. They figured east, west, north, and south, straight down and straight up."

"I git you, Jim. Well, minin' never did interest me none--and as for flyin', I sure been popped as high as I want to go. I reckon I'll jest let my hoss have his head. I reckon him and me has got about the same idee of what looks good."

"That pony of yours has never been in El Paso, has he?" queried the sheriff.

"Nope. Reckon it would be mighty interestin' for him--and the folks that always figured a sidewalk was jest for folks and not for hosses--but I ain't lookin' for excitement, nohow."

"Reckon that blue roan will give you all you want, any way you ride.

He hasn't been ridden since you left him here."

"Yes--and it sure makes me sore. Doc Andover said I was to keep off a hoss for a week yet. Sanborn is all right--but settin' on that hotel porch lookin' at it ain't."

"Well, I'd do what the Doc says, just the same. He ought to know."

"I see--he ought to. He sure prospected round inside me enough to know how things are."

"You might come over to my office when you get tired of sitting around here. There ain't anything much to do--but I've got a couple of old law books that might interest you--and a few novels--and if you want some real excitement I got an old dictionary--"

"That El Paso lawyer was tellin' me I ought to git a education. Don't know but what this is a good chanct. But I reckon I'll try one of them novels first. Mebby when I git that broke to gentle I can kind o' ride over and fork one of them law books without gittin' throwed afore I git my spurs hooked in good. But I sure don't aim to take no quick chances, even if you are ridin' herd for me."

"That lawyer was right, Pete. And if I had had your chance, money, and no responsibilities--at your age, I wouldn't have waited to pack my war-bag to go to college."

"Well, I figured _you_ was educated, all right. Why, that there lawyer was sayin' right out in court about you bein' intelligent and well-informed, and readin' character."

"He was spreading it on thick, Pete. Regular stuff. What little I know I got from observation--and a little reading."

"Well, I aim to do some lookin' around myself. But when it comes to readin' books--"

"Reckon I'll let you take 'Robinson Crusoe'--it's a bed-rock story.

And if you finish that before you leave, I'll bet you a new Stetson that you'll ask for another."

"I could easy win that hat,"--and Pete grinned.

"Not half as easy as you could afford to lose it."

"Meanin' I could buy one 'most any time?"

"No. I'll let you figure out what I meant." And the st.u.r.dy little sheriff heaved himself out of a most comfortable chair and waddled up the street, while Pete stared after him trying to reconcile bow-legs and reading books, finally arriving at the conclusion that education, which he had hitherto a.s.sociated with high collars and helplessness, might perhaps be acquired without loss of self-respect. "It sure hadn't spoiled Jim Owen," who was "as much of a real man as any of 'em"--and could handle talk a whole lot better than most men who boasted legs like his. Why, even that El Paso lawyer had complimented Owen on his "concise and eloquent summary of his findings against the defendant." And Pete reflected that his lawyer had not thrown any bouquets at any one else in that courtroom.

Just how much a little gray-eyed nurse in El Paso had to do with Pete's determination to browse in those alien pastures is a matter for speculation--but a matter which did not trouble Pete in the least, because it never occurred to him; evident in his confession to Andy White, months later: "I sure went to it with my head down and my ears laid back, takin' the fences jest as they come, without stoppin' to look for no gate. I sure jagged myself on the top-wire, frequent, but I never let that there Robinson Crusoe cuss git out of sight till I run him into his a home-corral along with that there man-eatin' n.i.g.g.e.r of his'n."

So it would seem that not even the rustle of skirts was heard in the land as Pete made his first wild ride across the pleasant pastures of Romance--for Doris had no share in this adventure, and, we are told, the dusky ladies of that carnivorous isle did not wear them.

CHAPTER XLIII

A NEW HAT--A NEW TRAIL

The day before Pete left Sanborn he strolled over to the sheriff's office and returned the old and battered copy of "Robinson Crusoe,"

which he had finished reading the night previous. "I read her, clean through," a.s.serted Pete, "but I'd never made the grade if you hadn't put me wise to that there dictionary. Gos.h.!.+ I never knowed there was so many ornery words bedded down in that there book."

"What do you think of the story?" queried the sheriff.

"If that Robinson Crusoe guy had only had a hoss instead of a bunch of goats, he sure could have made them natives ramble. And he sure took a whole lot of time blamin' himself for his hard luck--always a-settin'

back, kind o' waitin' for somethin'--instead of layin' out in the brush and poppin' at them n.i.g.g.e.rs. He wa'n't any too handy at readin' a trail, neither. But he made the grade--and that there Friday was sure one white n.i.g.g.e.r."

"Want to tackle another story?" queried Owen, as he put the book back on the shelf.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd jest as soon read this one over ag'in. I was trailin' that old Crusoe hombre so clost I didn't git time to set up and take in the scenery."

In his eagerness to re-read the story Pete had forgotten about the wager. Owen's eyes twinkled as he studied Pete's face. "We had a bet--" said Owen.

"That's right! I plumb forgot about that. You said you bet me a new hat that I'd ask you for another book. Well--what you grinnin' at, anyhow? 'Cause you done stuck me for a new lid? Oh, I git you! You said _another_ book, and I'm wantin' to read the same one over again.