15 Western Short Stories — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

10 moment wavered on the rim of sad- ness. He wondered, for the first time, how McLeod would have taken it when he left. McLeod had never real- ly believed he was going to leave. Well, it made no difference now. Big John was gone, leaving nothing but a hardscrabble ranch and a few sorry COWS. Henry had stopped talking and was looking at him. He stepped forward, knowing the Muellers expected him to say some- thing but not knowing what there was to say. He thought of the parts of the Bible about the days of man being short and full of troubles and the part about many mansions. They were fine but they didn’t suit John McLeod. “Rather in Heaven,” he said. “We are burying John McLeod’s body. He always trusted You and we hope You make him welcome. He was a good man—and always tried to teach oth- ers the right way.” Bob stopped. There was nothing more to Say. They repeated the Lord’s Prayer, then picked up the ropes and lowered the box. Bob wondered if he had done enough. But he’d done what McLeod would do for others. Mrs. Mueller and Gretchen sobbed steadily as they filled the grave. After it was over he walked to the wagon with them. Henry stood with one foot on the hub, his eyes sharply speculative as he looked over the place. “WMecLeod have any relatives?” he asked. “T don’t know, I never heard of any.” “You leaving now?” “T don’t know yet.” “What about those cattle?” Henry pointed to the pasture. “McLeod owed Mr. Washburn at the bank. I guess they'll go to pay the debt,” Bob said curtly. He hated to admit the cows were not rightfully his. ENRY POINTED a stubby fin- a oer. “There should be more.” “Maybe some are in the creek bot- tom,” Bob said. He counted, “No, that’s all I brought down.” WESTERN SHORT STORIES “I know how many McLeod put to summer range,” Henry said stubborn- ly. “There should be more.” Why, Bob thought in a blaze of an- ger, Henry figures on grabbing the ranch, and he’s not satisfied with that, he wants some cattle to go with it. “We lost some up there,” he said, having a hard time controlling his voice. “Tt would be easy to hide some out in the brush and then ride out with them when you left,’ Henry said. “I guess it would at that,’ Bob said. “Too bad I didn’t think of it.” “McLeod trusted you,’ Henry said. “I don’t. There’s some cattle missing and I think you know where they are.” “Papa,” Gretchen protested. ‘Maybe I do,” Bob said. “Is it any skin off your nose?” “I make it skin off my nose. Once a no-good always a no-good. I told McLeod, but he laughed.” “Get off the place,” Bob said vi- ciously. “Get off!” He started toward Mueller. “Bob,” don’t!” Henry jumped to the wagon seat and snapped the reins at his team. “T talk to Washburn,” he said. “You stay here.” Knees shaking from the burst of anger, Bob watched the spring wagon jouncing down the road. He was lucky Gretchen had been there to shout at him. His heart action slowed and he be- gan to think more calmly. Maybe he was mad because Henry had figured out his moves. The only thing he hadn’t guessed was that he planned to take all the cattle, not just two or three. If he were going to get out now he’d have to move fast. Washburn would be out tomorrow at the latest. Bob started to laugh, and then the sting of Henry’s words came back to him, and his laugh broke in the mid- dle with a howl of rage. He stalked to the house and got a rifle and pistol, stuffing his pockets with cartridges. He was in the saddle before he had a clear idea he was going to the Glid- dens after the missing cattle. He hated this country. The Glid- Gretchen said. “Please Oo CoOMmiclboo S CO