Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

158 se _ its flat reaches of greasewood and rab- ___bit-bush spotted with white patches of alkali and crossed by’ ridges, yellow with sun-cured grass, shimmering and dancing in the heat and glare of the sun. Below them the waters of the spring, spreading out in little channels before sink- ing into the sand, kept green strips and _ patches of grass on which were grazing a couple of hundred saddle-horses, while at _ the spring three wagons and several tents showed that a large party was encamped. A strong wire fence ran across the trail and vanished into the distance on either hand, and just inside of where it crossed the trail a group of thirty or more men lounged on their horses. . - Just short of the fence stood the four- - horse mess-wagon, the cook sitting cross- wise on the seat, a pipe in his mouth, while nearby the day wrangler had the remuda ~ bunched. Gorham took off his hat and scratched his head. “Wouldn’t that jar you?” he inquired in a plaintive voice to no one in particular. __ “Here we come along all nice and friendly, _ not looking for trouble with anybody, and there’s a bunch just aching for it, or I miss my guess. I sure am the unluckiest human at way that ever happened; if there’s any trouble anywhere around it hunts me out every rattle out of the box.” He settled himself in his saddle, his face ~ hardened and his voice took a new note. “Come on, fellows,” he said. ‘“Let’s get _. jt over.”’ In front of the men inside the fence a man of thirty or so, with a ‘rather handsome face but hard mouth and cold gray eyes, sat his _ horse with easy grace, and to him Gorham . spoke. ‘What outfit is this?” he wanted to know. “The Broken Bow,” the other told him. “And I reckon you’re running it?” -. ‘The other nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “And might I ask your name?” Gorham went on. - “Crawford, Ed Crawford.” Gorham settled over to the left in his sad- dle, bringing his weight on to his left stirrup and loosening his right foot, while the well- trained cow-horse, obeying a slight touch of _ the bridle reins, made a quarter turn to the left. “You half-bred capes between a Digger , ‘ three to one.’ Adventure Indian and the fag-end of a misspent life,” he said in a low and steady voice, ‘what do you mean by cluttering up the. landscape with barbed wire in this way? Don’t you know that somebody might run against it in the dark and get hurt?” ~ At the deadly insult Crawford’s face went | white, while on both sides men felt their muscles tighten for the bloody fight which they thought sure to follow. But Gorham’s eyes never left Crawford’s, and in a mo- ment the latter spoke in a voice which he could not keep quite steady. “The Broken Bow has bought the rail- | road lands and fenced them, and we are here to see.that the fence stays,”’ he said. “‘Who’s the big noise back of this deal?” Gorham wanted to know. “Is it Rivers?” “No,” Crawford told him, ‘Mr. James Newton has bought the Broken Bow, and if you want to talk to him he is at the ranch.” Gorham wheeled his horse. “Then you’re only a straw boss, and a — poor one at that,” he flung over his shoulder. “Run up the cavey and everybody get fresh horses,” he ordered. “Tom,” he ad- ded to the cook, “‘take the wagon back to Grass Creek and make camp. Dick, you and Buck come with me and we'll go see this man Newton. Therest of you fellows drift the beef back to Grass Creek and hold ’em till we get back.” As the three rode off young Ewing spoke. “Frank,” he said, “dad always said that you were plumb locoed, and he was sure right. What were you trying to do, get the bunch of US | killed off? That gang was Gorham laughed. “Son,” hé cad “always remember this: Get in the first bluff. You wouldn’t have us turn tail and ride away like a lot of whipped dogs, would you? So I throwed a scare into that Crawford when he wasn’t looking for it and it stuck. He, and all the rest of that bunch, will be a lot easier to handle after this, because they know we aren’t afraid of them.” Back at the camp of the Broken Bow men were also discussing the encounter. “‘Here’s where another range war starts and she’s going to be a lulu,” said one. “That Verde bunch is a hard one to handle. Ten years ago they had a row with the Broken Bow—it was an English outfit then— and licked ’em to a frazzle, besides cleaning Gomichoo (9) <S (€(@)