Tex, Page 3

  *CHAPTER III*

  *TEMPTED ANEW*

  A hand bell, ringing thin and clamorous somewhere below caused Tex togather up the cards with which for two hours he had been assiduouslypracticing shuffling, cutting, and dealing. Putting them away he washedhis face and hands in the tin basin, combed his hair without slicking itwith water, and went down to supper.

  He paused momentarily in the doorway to size up the dining-room. Thelong table was crowded by all sorts and conditions of men. Miners downon their luck and near the end of their resources because of the longdrought which had dried up the streams and put an end to placer miningoperations, rubbed elbows with more fortunate men of their own calling,who had longer purses. Two cowpunchers from a distant ranch sat next totwo cavalrymen on a prized leave from the iron discipline of a remotefrontier post, both types dangerous because free from the restraintwhich had held them down for so long a time. A local tin-horn gamblerand the traveling card-sharp were elbow to elbow, and several other men,evidently belonging to the town, nearly filled both sides of the table.

  At the head sat Gus Williams, most influential citizen and boss of thetown, and he made no attempt to hide his importance. Next to him on theleft was a lean, hard-looking, shifty-eyed man who seemed to shine inreflected light, and who showed a deference to the big man which heevidently expected to receive, in turn, from the others. If it was truethat there was only one boss, it was also true that he had only onenephew. To the right of the boss was the cold-eyed person whose seat inthe general store was well back in the corner. No one moved or spokeexcept under his critical observance. His cocksure confidence irritatedTex, who was strongly tempted to try the effect of a hot potato againsta cold eye. He thought of his friend Johnny Nelson and grinned at howthat young man's temper would steam up under such an insolent stare.Moving forward under the gunman's close scrutiny Tex dropped into theonly vacant chair, one near the nephew, and fell to eating, his vocalchords idle, but his optic and auditory apparatus making up for it. Theconversation, jerky and broken at first, grew more coherent andincreased as the appetites of the hungry men yielded to the bolted food.The protracted drought was referred to in grunts, growls, monosyllables,sentences, and profane speeches. It was discussed, rediscussed, andpopped up at odd moments for new discussion.

  "Never saw it so bad since th' railroad came," said a miner.

  "Never saw it so bad since th' first trail herd ended here," affirmedthe nephew.

  "_I_ never saw it so dry, for so long a spell, since th' first trailherd _passed_ here," said the uncle, his remark the strongest by cominglast; but he was not to enjoy that advantage for long.

  "Hum!" said a cattleman, apologetically clearing his throat. "I neversaw it as dry as it is now since I located out here."

  The miner frowned, the nephew scowled, and the uncle snorted. The lastnamed looked around belligerently and smote the table with his fist. "Iremember, howsomever, that I did see it near as dry, that year I strayedfrom th' Santa Fe Trail, huntin' buffalers for th' caravan. We passedright through this section an' circled back. I come to remember itbecause when we crossed th' Walnut I jumped right over it, dry-shod.Them was th' days when men was men, or soon wasn't nothin' a-tall."

  "I reckon they wasn't th' kind that would play off sick so they couldget another man's job away from him, anyhow," growled the nephew,introducing his pet grievance. "I run that station a cussed sight betterthan it's bein' run now; an' anybody's likely to make mistakes once in awhile."

  "A few dollars, one way or another, ain't bustin' no railroad," assertedthe uncle. "It was only th' excuse they was a-waitin' for."

  "Nobody can tell me no good about no railroad," said the freighter, hisfond memory resurrecting a certain lucrative wagon haul which hadvanished with the advent of the first train over the line.

  "Hosses are good enough for me," said Tex, looking around. "Whichremark reminds me that a rider afoot is a helpless hombre. Bein' arider, without no cayuse, I'm a little anxious to get me a good one.Anybody know where I can do it reasonable?"

  All eyes turned to the head of the table, where Williams was washingdown his last mouthful of food with a gulp of hot, watery coffee. Hecleared his throat and peered closely, but pleasantly, at the stranger."Why, it's Mr. Jones," he said. "I reckon I have such a hoss, Mr.Jones. Mebby it ain't any too well broken, but that hadn't oughterbother a rider."

  Tex grinned. "If that's all that's th' matter with it I reckon it'llsuit me; but I can tell better after I ride it, an' learn th' price."

  "Want it tonight?" frowned Williams.

  "No; I ain't in no hurry. Tomorrow'll be plenty of time, when you ain'tgot nothin' else to do but show it. Speakin' of railroads like we was, Ireckon they ain't done nothin' very much for this town. While I'm newto these parts, I'm betting Windsor was a whole lot better when th'drive trail was alive an' kickin'."

  Williams nodded emphatically. "I've seen these plains an' valleys thickwith cattle," he said, regretfully. "There was a time when I could seeth' dust clouds rollin' up from th' south an' away in th' north, both atonce, day after day. This town was a-hummin' every day an' night. Moneycome easy an' went th' same way. Men dropped in here, lookin' liketramps, almost, who could write good checks for thousands of dollars.Th' buyers bought whole herds on th' seller's say-so, without evenseein' a hoof, an' sold 'em ag'in th' same way. Money flowed likewater, an' fair-sized fortunes was won an' lost at a single sittin'.I've seen th' faro-bank busted three days hand-runnin'--but, of course,that was very unusual. Mostly it was th' other way 'round. All onesummer an' fall it was like that. Then th' winter come, an' that wasth' end of it so fur's Windsor was concerned. Th' Kiowa Arroyo branchline was pushed further an' further southwest until th' weather stoppedit; but it went on ag'in as soon as spring let it. By th' time th'first herds crossed th' state line, headin' for here, that line of railswas ready for 'em, an' not another big herd went past this town. Ofcourse, there was big herds drivin' north, just th' same, bound for th'Yellowstone region on government contract, an' some was bein' sent outto stock ranges in th' West, but they followed a new trail found byChisholm, or old McCullough. I've heard lately that Mac is workin' forTwitchell an' Carpenter. But if you'd seen this town then you shorewouldn't know it now. D--n th' railroads, says I!"

  Tex frowned honestly at the thought of the passing of this once greatcattle trail, for the memories of those old trails lay snug and warm inthe hearts of the men who have followed them in the saddle. He lookedup at Williams, a congratulatory look on his face. "Well, that shorewas hard; but not as hard, I reckon, as if you had been a cattleman, an'follered it. It sort of hurts an old-time cowman to think of themtrails."

  "That's where yo're wrong," spoke up the nephew. "He is a cattleman.Th' GW brand is known all over th' state, an' beyond. It was knowed byevery puncher that followed that old trail."

  "There wasn't no such brand in them days," corrected Williams. He didnot think it necessary to say that the GW mark was just starting then,far back in the hills and well removed from the trail; that it grew muchfaster by the addition of fully grown cattle than it did by naturalincrease; or that a view of the original brands on the full-grown cattlewould have been a matter of great and burning interest to almost everydrive boss who followed a herd along the trail. Later on, when he threwhis herd up for a count, the drive boss was likely to have re-added histally sheet and asked heaven and earth what had happened to him. "Well,them days has gone; but when they went this town come blamed near goin'with 'em. It shore ain't what it once was."

  Tex thought that it was just as well, since the town was mean enough andvicious enough as it was; he remembered vividly its high-water period;but he nodded his head.

  "It ain't hardly fair to judge it after such a long dry spell," he said."Th' whole country, south an' west of th' Missouri is fair burnin' up.Th' Big Muddy herself was a-showin' all her bars."

  "That's th' curse of thi
s part of Kansas," said the nephew. "That an'job jumpers."

  "Yes?" asked Tex. "How's that?"

  "Station agent a friend of yourn?"

  It became evident to Tex that the uncle and the nephew had beendiscussing him. Gus Williams was the only man to whom he had mentionedthe agent. He shook his head. "Never saw him before I stepped off th'train today," he answered, looking vexed about something. "We up an'had some words, an' I told him I reckoned he might find healthier townsfurther west, across th' line. I'm a mild man, gents: but I allus speakmy mind."

  "An' you gave him some cussed good advice," replied the nephew warmly."This ain't no place for any man as plays off sick an' does low-downtricks to turn another man out of a job. If it wasn't for his sisterI'd 'a' buffaloed him _pronto_. Which reminds me, stranger," he warnedwith an ugly leer. "She's a rip-snortin' fe-male--but I shore saw herfirst. I'm just tellin' you so you won't get any notions that way. I'mfencin' that range."

  "Don't you worry, Hen," consoled a friend. "Yo're able to run herd onher, balky as she is, an' when th' time's ripe you'll put yore brand onher. So fur's th' job's concerned, yore uncle'll get it back for youwhen he gets ready to move. We ought to ride that Saunders feller outof town, _I_ say!"

  "There's plenty of time for that," said Williams, as he turned toaddress another diner. "John, show Mr. Jones that gray when he gitsaround tomorrow. Aimin' to stay in town long, Mr. Jones?"

  Tex shrugged his shoulders. "Got to wait for a letter--don't know whatto do; but I shore could be in worse places than this here hotel, so Iain't worryin' a lot. Bein' a stranger, though, I reckon time'll drag alittle evenin's."

  Various kinds of smiles replied to this, and Williams laughed outright."I reckon you understand th' innercent game of draw?" he chuckled.

  Tex froze: "Sometimes I think I do," he said, and laughed to hide hisstruggle against the pressure of the old temptation. He fairly burnedto turn his poker craft against this blowhard's invitation, to wipe fromthat self-complacent face its look of omniscience. "An' then, sometimesI reckon I don't," he continued; "but I'm admittin' she's plumbfascinatin'. From th' pious expressions around me I reckon mebby I'veshocked somebody."

  Williams led in the laughter that followed, his bull voice roaringthrough the room. "You'd better buy that hoss before you assist in th'evenin's worship," he cried in boisterous good humor, "for I'm sayin' apuncher ain't nowhere near in th' prospector's class when it comes towalkin'; though I reckon th' boys will play you for th' hoss, at that,an' you'd be no better off in th' end. My remarks as how this town hasslid back didn't have nothin' to do with our poker playin', Mr. Jones.If you feel like settin' in ag'in' a Kansas cyclone, you can't say Ididn't warn you."

  Tex wondered what the crowd would say if he should lean over and pull aroyal flush out of Williams' ear, or a full-house from the nephew'snose. They might be surprised if they found out that the cold-eyedgunman at Williams' elbow carried a handful of Colt cartridges in histight-shut mouth. He had no rabbits to lift out of hats, but that trickwas threadbare from being overworked, anyhow. He waved both hands, asmart-Aleck grin sweeping across his face. "I've rode cayuses, punchedcows, an' played draw from Texas to Montanny, an' near back ag'in. Sofar I ain't throwed, rolled under, or cleaned out; an' I'm allus willin'to be agreeable. Where you gents lead I'll foller, like a hungry calfafter its ma." His voice had grown loud and boastful and he joined theswiftly forming card group with a swagger as it settled around the tablein the barroom, his bovine conceit hiding the silent struggle going onwithin him.

  Tex of the old days was fighting Tex of the new. The smug complacencyof the local boss stirred up the desire to break him to his last cent,to make a fool of him in the way others had been broken and maderidiculous; but the new Tex won: As usual he would play Hopalong'sgame--which was as his opponents played, straight or crooked, as theyshowed the way. He had no real wish for large winnings, for if he madehis expenses as he went along he would be satisfied, and he could dothat from his knowledge of psychology, a knowledge gained outside ofclassrooms. He now had no reputation to defend or maintain, for TexJones was not Tex Ewalt, famed throughout the cow-country. The new namemeant nothing. But how pleasant it would be to repeat history in thistown, so far as Williams was concerned!

  He always had claimed that he could learn a man's real nature morequickly in a game of poker than in any other way in the same length oftime, and he did not mean some one more prominent trait, but the man'snature as a whole; and now he set himself to study his new acquaintancesagainst some future need. The game itself would not engross him to theexclusion of all else, for while he was Tex Jones externally, it wouldbe Tex Ewalt who played the hands, the Tex Ewalt who as a youth haddiscovered an uncanny ability in sleight of hand and whose freshman andsophomore years had given so much time to developing and perfecting theeye-baffling art that every study had suffered heavily in consequence;the Tex Ewalt who had found that his ability was peculiarly adaptive tocards, and who had given all his attention to that connection when oncehe had started to travel along the line of least resistance. So wellhad he succeeded that seasoned gamblers from the Mexican line north toCanada had been forced to admit his mastery.

  Before the end of the second deal he had learned the rest of thenephew's more prominent characteristics, but had not bothered toretaliate for the cheating. On the third deal he was forced toout-cheat a miner to keep even with the game. Before the evening's playwas over he had renewed his knowledge of Gus Williams, and now knew himas well as that loud-voiced individual knew himself; and he had notincurred the enmity of the boss, because while Tex had won from theothers he had lost to him. While not yielding to the temptationsrampant in him, he had compromised and left Williams in a ripe conditionfor a future skinning. At the end of the play only he and Williams hadwon.

  As the others pushed back their chairs to leave the table, Williamsignored them and looked at Tex. "You an' me seem to be th' best," hesaid loudly. "So there won't be no doubt about it, let's settle itbetween us."

  Tex raised a belated hand too late to hide his yawn, blinked sleepily,and squinted at the clock. "I'm surprised it's so late," he said. "Ittakes a lot out of a man to play ag'in' this crowd. My head's fairachin'. What you say if we let it go till tomorrow night? I beentravelin' for three days an' nights an' ain't slept much. You'd take itaway from me before I could wake up."

  Williams laughed sarcastically. "You shore been crossin' a lot of sandsince you left th' Big Muddy, but I don't reckon none of it got interyore system." He paused to let the words sink in, and for a reply, andnone being forthcoming he laughed nastily as he arose. "Texas is asandy state, too. Reckon you was named before anybody knowed very muchabout you."

  Tex paled, fought himself to a standstill and shrugged his shoulders.Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bud Haines, the cold-eyed bodyguard,become suddenly more alert.

  "Windsor's got a h--l of a way of welcomin' strangers," he said."You'll have a different kind of a kick to make tomorrow night, foryou'll be eatin' sand. I play poker when I feel like it: just now Idon't feel like it. I'll say good night."

  "Ha-ha-ha!" shouted Williams. "He don't feel like it, boys! Ha-ha-ha!"

  Tex stopped, turned swiftly, pulled out a roll of bills that was acredit to his country and slammed it on the table, reaching for thescattered deck. "Mebby you feel like puttin' up seven hundred dollarsag'in' mine, one cut, th' highest card, to take both piles? Ha-ha-ha!"he mimicked. "Here's action if that's what yo're lookin' for!"

  Williams' face turned a deep red and he cursed under his breath."That's a baby game: I said poker!" he retorted, making no effort to getnearer to the table.

  "That's mebby why I picked it," snapped Tex, stuffing the roll back intohis pocked. "You can wait till tomorrow night for poker." Turning hisback on the wrathful Williams and the open-mouthed audience, he yawnedagain, muttered something to express his adieus, and clomped heavily andslowly up the stairs, his body shaking with represse
d laughter; and whenhe fell asleep a few minutes later there was a placid smile on hisclean-shaven face.