"Sure thing," sez I. I don't know to this day whether or not he really
thought I was green, but anyhow, he thought he had me at this game, an'
I saw in a moment 'at he had trained his pony; but he didn't have any
advantage over me. I was ridin' Hawkins, an' he had been dodgin' ropes
all his life an' liked the sport. We fenced for an hour without bein'
able to land, an' then he gets his noose over Hawkins' neck. Before he
can draw it tight I rides straight at him; his pony has settled back
for a jerk; I gets my noose over the pony's neck, a loop over Andrew's
right wrist, when he tries to ward it off his own neck, an' then
another loop over his shoulders, pinnin' the left arm an' the right
wrist to his body. My rope was the shorter now so I sets Hawkins back
an' takes a strain. I knew what was goin' to happen when that rope
tightened--he would be twisted out of the saddle an' his right arm
dislocated--an' he knew it too; an' he knew that I was goin' to do it.
The boys was as silent as the ace o'clubs.
His face went pale an' he looked at me with beggin' eyes, but mine was
hard as stone. I hated him for all the devil-thoughts he had put into
my head, an' I wanted to see him twisted an' torn. Then I just happened
to see two riders comin' in from toward the ranch house. I knew by
instinct it was Jabez an' Barbie, an' just as Andrews started to twist
in the saddle I touched Hawkins with the spurs, rode up to him, threw
off the loops, put a smile on my face--an' shook hands with Bill
Andrews, while all the boys give a cheer. I was pantin' an' tremblin',
but I don't think it was noticed, as I kept that smile as easy-goin'
an' good-natured as a floatin' cork.
Well, I kidded with the boys until Jabez got through decidin' on what
he wanted done with the different bunches, an' then when he an' Barbie
rode back to the house I went along. I made sure to brazen it out as
much as possible, an' not to give the impression that I was as het up
as I had been; but I knew that Bill Andrews was well aware of what had
saved him. I also knew that he'd hate me to the day of his death--but
he'd fear me to the last minute, an' he'd never start but one more
contest.
The Diamond Dot didn't seem so homelike after that; it was a heap
easier to get the best of Bill Andrews than it was to get rid of those
questions; but I tried to act just as much the same as possible, only I
did as much range ridin' as I could make seem natural. I supposed that
Bill Andrews would leave, but he didn't; he stayed right along an' he
worked hard an' he never kicked. He was allus friendly with me, but he
didn't overdo it, an' things went along smooth as joint oil.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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