The Greatest Works of B. M. Bower - 51 Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). B. M. Bower
our land?” Slim wanted to know. “We got a right to keep ‘em off, ain’t we?”
Chip said that he thought they had, but to make sure, he would ask the Honorable Blake. Trespassing, he said, might be avoided—
Right there Andy was seized with an idea. He took Chip—because of his artistic talents which, he said, had been plumb wasted lately—to one side. After wards they departed in haste, with Pink and Weary galloping close at their heels. In a couple of hours they returned to the boundary where the cattle still fed all scattered out in a long line, and behind them drove Pink and Weary in the one wagon which the Family possessed.
“It oughta help some,” grinned Andy, when the Native Son came curiously over to see what it was they were erecting there on the prairie. “It’s a fair warning, and shows ‘em where to head in at.”
The Native Son read the sign, which was three feet long and stood nailed to two posts ready for planting solidly in the earth. He showed his even, white teeth in a smile of approval. “Back it up, and it ought to do some good,” he said.
They dug holes and set the posts, and drove on to where they meant to plant another sign exactly like the first. That day they planted twelve sign-boards along their west line. They might not do any good, but they were a fair warning and as such were worth the trouble.
That afternoon Andy was riding back along the line when he saw a rider pull up at the first sign and read it carefully. He galloped in haste to the spot and found that his suspicions were correct; it was Miss Allen.
“Well,” she said when he came near, “I suppose that means me. Does it?” She pointed to the sign, which read like this:
WARNING!! NO TRESPASSING EAST OF HERE All Shacks, Live-Stock and Pilgrims Promptly AND Painfully Removed From These Premises
“I’m over the line,” she notified him, pulling her horse backward a few feet. “You’re getting awfully particular, seems to me. Oh, did you know that a lot of men are going to play it’s New Year’s Eve and hold watch meetings tonight?”
“Never heard a word about it,” he declared truthfully, and waited for more.
“That’s not strange—seeing it’s a surprise party. Still—I’m sure you are expected to—attend.”
“And where is all this to take place?” Andy looked at her intently, smiling a little.
“Oh, over there—and there—and there.” She pointed to three new shacks—the official dwellings of certain contestants. “Stag parties, they are, I believe. But I doubt if they’ll have any very exciting time; most of these new settlers are too busy getting the ground ready for crops, to go to parties. Some people are pretty disgusted, I can tell you, Mr. Green. Some people talk about ingratitude and wonder why the colony doesn’t hang together better. Some people even wonder why it is that folks are interested mainly in their own affairs, and decline to attend watch meetings and—receptions. So I’m afraid very few, except your nearest neighbors, will be present, after all might I ask when you expect to—to MOVE again, Mr. Green?”
Smiling still, Andy shook his head. “I expect to be pretty busy this spring,” he told her evasively. “Aren’t any of you ladies invited to those parties, Miss Allen?”
“Not a one. But let me tell you something, Mr. Green. Some folks think that perhaps we lady-settlers ought to organize a club for the well being of our intellects. Some folks are trying to get up parties just for women—see the point? They think it would be better for the—atmosphere.”
“Oh.” Andy studied the possibilities of such a move. If Florence Grace should set the women after them, he could see how the Happy Family would be hampered at every turn. “Well, I must be going. Say, did you know this country is full of wild animals, Miss Allen? They prowl around nights. And there’s a gang of wild men that hang out up there in those mountains—they prowl around nights, too. They’re outlaws. They kill off every sheriff’s party that tries to round them up, and they kidnap children and ladies. If you should hear any disturbance, any time, don’t be scared. Just stay inside after dark and keep your door locked. And if you should organize that ladies’ club, you better hold your meetings in the afternoon, don’t you think?”
When he had ridden on and left her, Andy was somewhat ashamed of such puerile falsehoods. But then, she had started the allegorical method of imparting advice, he remembered. So presently went whistling to round up the boys and tell them what he had learned.
Chapter 13. Irish Works for the Cause
Big Medicine with Weary and Chip to bear him company, rode up to the shack nearest his own, which had been hastily built by a raw-boned Dane who might be called truly Americanized. Big Medicine did not waste time in superfluities or in making threats of what he meant to do. He called the Dane to the door—claim-jumpers were keeping close to their cabins, these days—and told him that he was on another man’s land, and asked him if he meant to move.
“Sure I don’t intend to move!” retorted the Dane with praiseworthy promptness. “I’m going to hold ‘er down solid.”
“Yuh hear what says, boys.” Big Medicine turned to his companions “He ain’t going to git off’n my land, he says. Weary, yuh better go tell the bunch I need’em.”
Weary immediately departed. He was not gone so very long, and when he returned the Happy Family was with him, even to Patsy who drove the wagon with all the ease of a veteran of many roundups. The Dane tried bluster, but that did not seem to work. Nothing seemed to work, except the Happy Family.
There in broad daylight, with no more words than were needful, they moved the Dane, and his shack. When they began to raise the building he was so unwise as to flourish a gun, and thereby made it perfectly right and lawful that Big Medicine should take the gun away from him and march him ahead of his own forty-five.
They took the shack directly past one of the trespassing signs, and Big Medicine stopped accommodatingly while the Dane was permitted to read the sign three times aloud. That the Dane did not seem truly appreciative of the privilege was no fault of Big Medicine’s, surely. They went on, skidding the little building sledlike over the uneven prairie. They took it down into Antelope Coulee and left it there, right side up and with not even a pane of glass broken in the window.
“There, darn yuh, live there awhile!” Andy gritted to when the timbers were withdrawn from beneath the cabin and they were ready to leave. “You can’t say we damaged your property—this time. Come back, and there’s no telling what we’re liable to do.”
Since Big Medicine kept his gun, the Dane could do nothing but swear while he watched them ride up the hill and out of sight.
They made straight for the next interloper, remarking frequently that it was much simpler and easier to do their moving in daylight. There they had an audience, for Florence Grace rode furiously up just as they were getting under way. The Happy Family spoke very nicely to Florence Grace, and when she spoke very sharply to them they were discreetly hard of hearing and became absorbed in their work.
Several settlers came before that shack was moved, but they only stood around and talked among themselves, and were careful not to get in the way or to hinder, and to lower their voices so that the Happy Family need not hear unless they chose to listen.
So they slid that shack into the coulee, righted it carefully and left it there—where it would be exceedingly difficult to get it out, by the way; since it is much easier to drag a building down hill than up, and the steeper the hill and the higher, the greater the difference.
They loaded the timbers into the wagon and methodically on to the next shack, their audience increased to a couple of dozen perturbed settlers. The owner of this particular shack, feeling the strength of numbers behind him, was disposed to argue the point.
“Oh, you’ll sweat for this!”