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The Happy Family written by Bertha Muzzy Bower

B >> Bertha Muzzy Bower >> The Happy Family




Andy scraped his plate thoughtfully with his knife, looked into his
coffee-cup, stirred the dregs absently and dipped out half a spoonful
of undissolved sugar, which he swallowed meditatively. He tossed
plate, cup and spoon toward the dishpan, sent knife and fork after
them and got out his smoking material. And the Happy Family, grouped
rather closely together and watching unobtrusively, stirred to the
listening point. The liar was about to lie.

"Talk about a guilty conscience giving a man dead away," Andy began,
quite unconscious of the mental attitude of his fellows, and
forgetting also his anger of the afternoon, "it sure does work out
like that, sometimes. I followed that old devil, just out uh
curiosity, to see if he headed for Dry Lake like he said he was going.
_We_ didn't have any reason for keeping cases on him, or suspicioning
anything--but he acted like we was all out on his trail, the fool!

"I kinda had a hunch that if he had been up to any deviltry, it would
show on him when he left here, and I was plumb right about it. He went
all straight enough till he got down into Black Coulee; and right
there it looked like he got kinda panicky and suspicious, for he
turned square off the trail and headed up the coulee."

"He must uh had 'em," Weary commented, quite as if he believed.

"Yuh wait till I'm through," Andy advised, still wholly unconscious of
their disbelief. "Yuh was all kinda skeptical when I told yuh he had a
guilty conscience, but I was right about it, and come mighty near
laying out on the range to-night with my toes pointing straight up,
just because you fellows wouldn't--"

"Sun-stroke?" asked Pink, coming closer, his eyes showing purple in
the softened light.

"No--yuh wait, now, till I tell yuh." Whereupon Andy smoked
relishfully and in silence, and from the tail of his eye watched his
audience squirm with impatience. "A man gets along a whole lot better
without any conscience," he began at last, irrelevantly, "'specially
if he wants to be mean. I trailed this jasper up the coulee and out on
the bench, across that level strip between Black Coulee and Dry Spring
Gulch, and down the gulch a mile or so. He was fogging right along,
and seemed as if he looked back every ten rods--I know he spotted me
just as I struck the level at the head uh Black Coulee, because he
acted different then.

"I could see he was making across country for the trail to Chinook,
but I wanted to overhaul him and have a little casual talk about Dan.
I don't suppose yuh noticed I took his rope along; I wanted some
excuse for hazing after him like that, yuh see."

"Uh course, such accommodating cusses as you wouldn't be none strange
to him," fleered Cal.

"Well, he never found out what I was after," sighed Andy. "It wasn't
my fault I didn't come up with him, and my intentions were peaceful
and innocent. But do yuh know what happened? He got out uh sight down
Dry Spring Gulch--yuh know where that elephant-head rock sticks out,
and the trail makes a short turn around it--that's where I lost sight
of him. But he wasn't very far in the lead, and I was dead anxious to
give him his rope, so I loped on down--"

"You were taking long chances, old-timer; that's mighty rough going,
along there," hinted Chip, gravely.

"Sure, I was," Andy agreed easily. "But yuh recollect, I was in a
hurry. So I'd just rounded the elephant's head, when _bing!_ something
spats the rock, just over my right shoulder, and my horse squatted
down on his rump and said he'd gone far enough. I kinda felt the same
way about it, so when he wheeled and humped himself back up the trail,
I didn't argue none with him."

There was silence so deep one could hear the saddle-bunch cropping the
thick grasses along the creek. If this were true--this tale that Andy
was telling--The Happy Family, half tempted to believe, glanced
furtively at one another.

"Aw, gwan!" It was the familiar, protesting croak of Happy Jack. "What
did yuh turn tail for? Why didn't yuh have it out with him?" The Happy
Family drew a long breath, and the temptation to believe was pushed
aside.

"Because my gun was rolled up in my bed," Andy replied simply. "I
ain't as brave as you are, Happy. I ain't got the nerve to ride right
up on a man that's scared plumb silly and pumping lead my way fast as
he can work the lever on his rifle, and lick him with my fists till he
howls, and then throw him and walk up and down his person and flap my
wings and crow. It's awful to have to confess it, but I'm willing to
run from any man that's shooting at me when I can't shoot back. I'd
give a lot to be as brave as you are, Happy."

Happy Jack growled and subsided.

"Well, by golly, there's times when _we'd_ be justified in shooting
yuh, but I don't see what _he'd_ want to do it for," objected Slim.

"Guilty conscience, I told yuh," retorted Andy. "He seen I was chasing
him up, and I guess he thought it was somebody that had got next to
what happened--Lord, I wish I knew what did happen, down there in the
breaks! Boys," Andy got up and stood looking earnestly down at them in
the twilight, "you can't make me believe that there hasn't been a
murder done! That fellow has been up to something, or he wouldn't be
acting so damn' queer. And if it was just plain stealing, Dan would
sure be hot on his trail--because Dan thought more of his money than
most men do of their wives. It was about all he lived for, and he
wasn't any coward. That old man never would get it off him without a
big ruction, and if he did, Dan would be right after him bigger'n a
wolf. There's something wrong, you take my word."

"What do yuh want us to do about it?" It was Chip who asked the
question, and his tone was quite calm and impersonal.

Andy looked at him reproachfully. "Do? What is there to do, except go
down there and see? If we can find that out, we can put the sheriff
wise and let him do the rest. It sure does seem kinda tough, if a man
can do a murder and robbery and get off with it, just because nobody
cares enough about it to head him off."

The Happy Family stirred uneasily. Of course, it was all just a josh
of Andy's--but he was such a convincing liar! Almost they felt guilty
of criminal negligence that they did not at once saddle up and give
chase to the murderer, who had tried to kill Andy for following him,
and who was headed for Chinook after unnecessarily proclaiming himself
bound for Dry Lake.

"Do you want the whole outfit to turn out?" asked Chip calmly at last.

"No-o--"

"Say, is it anywheres near that prehistoric castle you found once?"
Ping asked maliciously, unbelief getting strong hold of him again.

Andy turned toward him, scowling. "No, Angel-child, it ain't," he
snapped. "And you fellows can back up and snort all yuh darn please,
and make idiots of yourselves. But yuh can't do any business making me
out a hot-air peddler on _this_ deal. I stand pat, just where I stood
at first, and it'll take a lot uh cackling to make me back down. That
old devil _did_ lie about Dan, and he did take a shot at me--"

"He took yuh for a horse-thief, most likely," explained Jack Bates.

"He didn't need no field glass to see you was a suspicious character,
by golly," chortled Slim.

"He thought yuh was after what little your friend Dan had overlooked,
chances is," added Cal Emmett.

"Did the fog roll down and hide the horrible sight?" asked Jack Bates.

That, and much more, brought about a distinct coldness between the
Happy Family and one Andy Green, so that the sun went down upon Andy's
wrath, and rose to find it still bubbling hotly in the outraged heart
of him.

It was Jack Bates who precipitated an open war by singing an adapted
version of "Massa's In the Cold, Cold Ground," just when they were
eating breakfast. As an alleged musical effort it was bad enough, but
as a personal insult it was worse. One hesitates to repeat the
doggerel, even in an effort to be exact. However, the chorus, bellowed
shamelessly by Jack, was this:

"Down in the Bad-lands, hear that awful sound.
Andy Green is there a-weeping--"

Jack Bates got no further than that, for Andy first threw his plate at
Jack and then landed upon him with much force and venom, so that Jack
went backwards and waved long legs convulsively in the air, and the
Happy Family stood around and howled their appreciation of the
spectacle.

When it dawned upon them that Andy was very much in earnest, and that
his fist was landing with unpleasant frequency just where it was most
painful to receive it, they separated the two by main strength and
argued loudly for peace. But Andy was thoroughly roused and would have
none of it, and hurled at them profanity and insulting epithets, so
that more than Jack Bates looked upon him with unfriendly eyes and
said things which were not calculated to smooth roughened tempers.

"That's a-plenty, now," quelled Chip, laying detaining hand upon the
nearest, who happened to be Andy himself. "You sound like a bunch of
old women. What do you want to do the worst and quickest, Andy?--and I
don't mean killing off any of these alleged joshers, either."

Andy clicked his teeth together, swallowed hard and slowly unclenched
his hands and grinned; but the grin was not altogether a pleasant one,
and the light of battle still shone in the big, gray eyes of him.

"You're the boss," he said, "but if yuh don't like my plans you'll
just have one less to pay wages to. What I'm going to do is throw my
saddle on my private horse and ride down into the Bad-lands and see
for myself how the cards lay. Maybe it's awful funny to the rest of
yuh, but I'm takin' it kinda serious, myself, and I'm going to find
out how about it before I'm through. I can't seem to think it's a josh
when some old mark makes a play like that fellow did, and tries to put
a bullet into my carcass for riding the same trail he took. It's me
for the Bad-lands--and you can think what yuh damn' please about it."

Chip stood quite still till he was through, and eyed him sharply. "You
better take old Buck to pack your blankets and grub," he told him, in
a matter-of-fact tone. "We'll be swinging down that way in two or
three days; by next Saturday you'll find us camped at the mouth of
Jump-off Coulee, if nothing happens. That'll give you four days to
prowl around. Come on, boys--we've got a big circle ahead of us this
morning, and it's going to be hot enough to singe the tails off our
cayuses by noon."

That, of course, settled the disturbance and set the official seal of
approval upon Andy's going; for Chip was too wise to permit the affair
to grow serious, and perhaps lose a man as good as Andy; family
quarrels had not been entirely unknown among the boys of the Flying U,
and with tact they never had been more than a passing unpleasantness.
So that, although Jack Bates swore vengeance and nursed sundry bruised
spots on his face, and though Andy saddled, packed old Buck with his
blankets and meager camp outfit and rode off sullenly with no word to
anyone and only a scowling glance or two for farewell, Chip mounted
and rode cheerfully away at the head of his Happy Family, worrying not
at all over the outcome.

"I've got half a notion that Andy was telling the truth, after all,"
he remarked to Weary when they were well away from camp. "It's worth
taking a chance on, anyhow--and when he comes back things will be
smooth again."

When Saturday came and brought no Andy to camp, the Happy Family began
to speculate upon his absence. When Sunday's circle took them within
twelve or fifteen miles of the camp in the Bad-lands, Pink suddenly
proposed that they ride down there and see what was going on. "He
won't be looking for us," he explained, to hide a secret uneasiness.
"And if he's there we can find out what the josh is. If he ain't,
we'll have it on him good and strong."

"I betche Andy just wanted a lay-off, and took that way uh getting
it," declared Happy Jack pessimistically. "I betche he's in town right
now, tearing things wide open and tickled to think he don't have to
ride in this hot sun. Yuh can't never tell what Andy's got cached up
his sleeve."

"Chip thinks he was talking on the level," Weary mused. "Maybe he was;
as Happy says, yuh can't tell."

As always before, this brought the Happy Family to argument which
lasted till they neared the deep, lonely coulee where, according to
Andy, "friend Dan" had wintered with the shifty-eyed old man.

"Now, how the mischief do we get down?" questioned Jack Bates
complainingly. "This is bound to be the right place--there's the cabin
over there against the cottonwoods."

"Aw, come on back," urged Happy Jack, viewing the steep bluff with
disfavor. "Chances is, Andy's in town right now. He ain't down--"

"There's old Buck, over there by the creek," Pink announced. "I'd know
him far as I could see him. Let's ride around that way. There's sure
to be a trail down." He started off, and they followed him
dispiritedly, for the heat was something to remember afterwards with a
shudder.

"Here's the place," Pink called back to them, after some minutes of
riding. "Andy's horse is down there, too, but I don't see Andy--"

"Chances is--" began Happy Jack, but found no one listening.

It would be impossible to ride down, so they dismounted and prepared
for the scramble. They could see Buck, packed as if for the homeward
trail, and they could see Andy's horse, saddled and feeding with reins
dragging. He looked up at them and whinnied, and the sound but
accentuated the loneliness of the place. Buck, too, saw them and came
toward them, whinnying wistfully; but, though they strained eyes in
every direction, they could see nothing of the man they sought.

It was significant of their apprehension that not even Happy Jack made
open comment upon the strangeness of it. Instead, they dug bootheels
deep where the slope was loose gravel, and watched that their horses
did not slide down upon them; climbed over rocks where the way was
barred, and prayed that horse and man might not break a leg. They had
been over rough spots, and had climbed in and out of deep coulees, but
never had they travelled a rougher trail than that.

"My God! boys, look down there!" Pink cried, when yet fifty
perpendicular feet lay between them and the level below.

They looked, and drew breath sharply. Huddled at the very foot of the
last and worst slope lay Andy, and they needed no words to explain
what had happened. It was evident that he had started to climb the
bluff and had slipped and fallen to the bottom, And from the way he
was lying--The Happy Family shut out the horror of the thought and
hurried recklessly to the place.

It was Pink who, with a last slide and a stumbling recovery at the
bottom, reached him first. It was Jack Bates who came a close second
and helped to turn him--for he had fallen partly on his face. From the
way one arm was crumpled back under him, they knew it to be broken.
Further than that they could only guess and hope. While they were
feeling for heart-beats, the others came down and crowded close. Pink
looked up at them strainedly.

"Oh, for God's sake, some of yuh get water," he cried sharply. "What
good do yuh think you're doing, just standing around?"

"We ought to be hung for letting him come down here alone," Weary
repented. "It ain't safe for one man in this cursed country. Where's
he hurt, Cadwolloper?"

"How in hell do _I_ know?" Anxiety ever sharpened the tongue of Pink.
"If somebody'd bring some water--"

"Happy's gone. And there ain't a drop uh whisky in the crowd! Can't we
get him into the shade? This damned sun is enough to--"

"Look out how yuh lift him, man! You ain't wrassling a calf, remember!
You take his shoulder, Jack--_easy_, yuh damned, awkward--"

"Here comes Happy, with his hat full. Don't slosh it all on at once! A
little at a time's better. Get some on his head."

So with much incoherence and with everybody giving orders and each
acting independently, they bore him tenderly into the shade of a rock
and worked over him feverishly, their faces paler than his. When he
opened his eyes and stared at them dully, they could have shouted for
very relief. When he closed them again they bent over him solicitously
and dripped more water from the hat of Happy Jack. And not one of them
but remembered remorsefully the things they had said of him, not an
hour before; the things they had said even when he was lying there
alone and hurt--hurt unto death, for all they knew.

When he was roused enough to groan when they moved him, however
gently, they began to consider the problem of getting him to camp, and
they cursed the long, hot miles that lay between. They tried to
question him, but if he understood what they were saying he could not
reply except by moaning, which was not good to hear. All that they
could gather was that when they moved his body in a certain way the
pain of it was unbearable. Also, he would faint when his head was
lowered, or even lifted above the level. They must guard against that
if they meant to get him to camp alive.

"We'll have to carry him up this cussed hill, and then--If he could
ride at all, we might make it."

"The chances is he'll die on the road," croaked Happy Jack tactlessly,
and they scowled at him for voicing the fear they were trying to
ignore. They had been trying not to think that he might die on the
road, and they had been careful not to mention the possibility. As it
was, no one answered.

How they ever got him to the top of that heartbreaking slope, not one
of them ever knew. Twice he fainted outright. And Happy Jack,
carefully bearing his hat full of water for just that emergency,
slipped and spilled the whole of it just when they needed it most. At
the last, it was as if they carried a dead man between them--Jack
Bates and Cal Emmett it was who bore him up the last steep climb--and
Pink and Weary, coming behind with all the horses, glanced fearfully
into each other's eyes and dared not question.

At the top they laid him down in the grass and swore at Happy Jack,
because they must do something, and because they dared not face what
might be before them. They avoided looking at one another while they
stood helplessly beside the still figure of the man they had maligned.
If he died, they would always have that bitter spot in their
memory--and even with the fear of his dying they stood remorseful.

Of a sudden Andy opened his eyes and looked at them with the light of
recognition, and they bent eagerly toward him. "If--yuh could--on--my
horse--I--I--could ride--maybe." Much pain it cost him, they knew by
the look on his face. But he was game to the last--just as they knew
he would be.

"Yuh couldn't ride Twister, yuh know yuh couldn't," Pink objected
gently. "But--if yuh could ride Jack's horse--he's dead gentle, and
we'd help hold yuh on. Do you think yuh could?"

Andy moved his head uneasily. "I--I've got to," he retorted weakly,
and even essayed a smile to reassure them. "I--ain't all--in yet," he
added with an evident effort, and the Happy Family gulped
sympathetically, and wondered secretly if they would have such nerve
under like conditions.

"It's going to be one hell of a trip for yuh," Weary murmured
commiseratingly, when they were lifting him into the saddle. Of a
truth, it did seem absolutely foolhardy to attempt it, but there was
nothing else to do, unless they left him there. For no wagon could
possibly be driven within miles of the place.

Andy leaned limply over the saddle-horn, his face working with the
agony he suffered. Somehow they had got him upon the horse of Jack
Bates, but they had felt like torturers while they did it, and the
perspiration on their faces was not all caused by heat.

"My God, I'd rather be hung than go through this again," muttered Cal,
white under the tan. "I--"

"I'll tackle--it now," gasped Andy, with a pitiful attempt to sit
straight in the saddle. "Get on--boys--"

Reluctantly they started to obey, when the horse of Jack Bates gave a
sudden leap ahead. Many hands reached out to grasp him by the bridle,
but they were a shade too late, and he started to run, with Andy
swaying in the saddle. While they gazed horrified, he straightened
convulsively, turned his face toward them and raised a hand; caught
his hat by the brim and swung it high above his head.

"Much obliged, boys," he yelled derisively. "I sure do appreciate
being packed up that hill; it was too blamed hot to walk. Say! if
you'd gone around that bend, you'd uh found a good trail down. Yuh
struck about the worst place there is. So-long--I ain't all in yet!"
He galloped away, while the Happy Family stared after him with bulging
eyes.

"The son-of-a-gun!" gasped Weary weakly, and started for his horse.

"Darn yuh, you'll _be_ all in when we get hold of yuh!" screamed Jack
Bates, and gave chase.

It was when they were tearing headlong after him down the coulee's rim
and into a shallow gully which seamed unexpectedly the level, that
they saw his horse swerve suddenly and go bounding along the edge of
the slope with Andy "sawing" energetically upon the bit.

"What trick's he up to now?" cried Cal Emmett resentfully, feeling
that, in the light of what had gone before, Andy could not possibly
make a single motion in good faith.

Andy brought his horse under control and turned back to meet them, and
the Happy Family watched him guardedly until they reached the gulley
and their own horses took fright at a dark, shambling object that
scuttled away down toward the coulee-head. Andy was almost upon them
before they could give him any attention.

"Did you see it?" he called excitedly. "It was a bear, and he was
digging at something under that shelving rock. Come on and let's take
a look."

"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack adjured crossly. He was thinking of all the
water he had carried painstakingly in his hat, for the relief of this
conscienceless young reprobate, and he was patently suspicious of some
new trick.

"Well, by gracious!" Andy rode quite close--dangerously close,
considering the mood they were in--and eyed them queerly. "I sure must
have a horrible rep, when yuh won't believe your own eyes just because
I happen to remark that a bear is a bear. I'll call it a pinto hog, if
it'll make yuh feel any better. And I'll say it wasn't doing any
digging; only, I'm going down there and take a look. There's an
odor--"

There was, and they could not deny it, even though Andy did make the
assertion. And though they had threatened much that was exceedingly
unpleasant, and what they would surely do to Andy if they ever got him
within reach, they followed him quite peaceably.

They saw him get off his horse and stand looking down at
something--and there was that in his attitude which made them jab
spurs against their horses' flanks. A moment later they, too, were
looking down at something, and they were not saying a word.

"It's Dan, all right," said Andy at last, and his tone was hushed. "I
hunted the coulee over--every foot of it--and looked up some of the
little draws, and went along the river; but I couldn't find any trace
of him. I never thought about coming up here.

"Look there. His head was smashed in with a rock or something--ugh!
Here, let me away, boys. This thing--" He walked uncertainly away and
sat down upon a rock with his face in his hands, and what they could
see of his face was as white as the tan would permit. Somehow, not a
man of them doubted him then. And not a man of them but felt much the
same. They backed away and stood close to where Andy was sitting.

"You wouldn't believe me when I told yuh," he reproached, when the
sickness had passed and he could lift his head and look at them. "You
thought I was lying, and yuh made yourselves pretty blamed obnoxious
to me--but I got even for _that_." There was much satisfaction in his
tone, and the Happy Family squirmed. "Yuh see, I was telling the
truth, all right--and now I'm going to get even some more. I'm going
to take--er--Pink along for a witness, and notify the outfit that yuh
won't be back for a day or two, and send word to the sheriff. And you
jaspers can have the pleasure uh standing guard over--_that_." He
shivered a little and turned his glance quickly away. "And I hope," he
added maliciously, as he mounted his own horse, "you'll make Jack
Bates stand an all-night guard by his high lonesome. He's sure got it
coming to him!"

With Pink following close at his heels he rode away up the ridge.

"Say, there's grub enough on old Buck to do yuh to-night," he called
down to them, "in case Chip don't send yuh any till to-morrow." He
waved a subdued farewell and turned his face again up the ridge, and
before they had quite decided what to do about it, he was gone.

* * * * *




"WOLF! WOLF!"


Andy Green, of the Flying U, loped over the grassy level and hummed a
tune as he rode. The sun shone just warm enough to make a man feel
that the world was good enough for him, and the wind was just a lazy,
whispering element to keep the air from growing absolutely still and
stagnant. There was blue sky with white, fluffy bits of cloud like
torn cotton drifting as lazily as the wind, and there were
meadow-larks singing and swaying, and slow-moving range cattle with
their calves midway to weaning time. Not often may one ride leisurely
afar on so perfect a day, and while Andy was a sunny-natured fellow at
all times, on such a day he owned not a care.