Johnny Nelson: How a one-time pupil of Hopalong Cassidy of the famous Bar-20 ranch in the Pecos Valley performed an act of knight-errantry and what came of itMulford, Clarence Edward
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Johnny Nelson: How a one-time pupil of Hopalong Cassidy of the famous Bar-20 ranch in the Pecos Valley performed an act of knight-errantry and what came of it
Mulford, Clarence Edward
Cowboys -- Fiction; Ranch life -- Fiction; Western stories
"Don't know; but none of our boys was."
"Nobody left here at all that night?" demanded Wolf.
"Not one."
"How do you know? That was near a week ago. How do you know they was
all here?"
"That was th' first night you went on Nelson's trail," answered the
foreman somewhat angrily. "I told them to stay home, an' give you
plenty of room. They did it."
"I reckon they was glad to do it," sneered Wolf. "Coyotes don't go
cougar hunting less'n th' pack is big."
"They might as well stay home as go on a drunk in Highbank," retorted
Big Tom, coldly.
For a moment Wolf was balanced on a narrow edge, but controlled himself
because of genuine liking for his foreman. "Don't you ever come that
close again," he said, almost in a whisper. "Do you know _why_ I went
to Highbank? You ought to, for I reckon everybody does by _this_ time,"
he grated.
"I'm listenin' to you," answered Big Tom. "I don't know _why_ you went."
Wolf dismounted, drove the horse out of the house, and paced up and
down the long room in a frenzy of energy.
"I was roped off my cayuse ridin' home that night. I must 'a' fell on
my head, for I don't know nothin' about it till I got to town. When I
came to my senses I was bound, blindfolded, an' gagged, an' my head was
spinnin' an' near bustin' with pain. I was dumped into Buffalo's wagon,
pushed in among a load of hides, an' staked out so I couldn't move. All
that day I lay there under that tarp, joltin' over that long trail,
near faintin' with th' pain of th' lashin's an' th' gag, swelterin' in
th' heat an' stink, sick with th' pain in my head, parched an' burnin'
with thirst, ragin' with my thoughts, mile after mile. There was times
I must 'a' lost consciousness; but I can remember a-plenty!
"Down in Highbank I was hauled out by a gang of cacklin' sage hens who
thought it was a joke. If I'd had a gun an' could 'a' used it, I'd 'a'
showed 'em what kind of a joke it was!" He flew into a burst of rage
which awed his companions, and he nearly wrecked the room before he
subsided, his words one quivering stream of profanity. "An' what have
I got to face?" he shouted. "What have I got to live down? I'll be th'
laughin' stock of this whole country till I die, an' after! But I can
show 'em that it costs somethin' to make a fool of Wolf Forbes; an' I
will, if I dies for it! I want a six-gun, an' a rifle, an' yore pet
hoss. I'm ridin' to town to see th' one man who can tell me where to
start, an' I'm ridin' alone."
"Think it was Nelson?" asked Carson.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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