"You keep away from me, you cow!" warned Doc, weighing a Colt in his hand by the muzzle. "I'll shore bend this right around yore face if you don't!"
"Aw, go to th' devil! Yo're a bunch of sore-heads, just a bunch of—" Curley snapped, his words becoming inaudible as he went out to the wash bench, where Meeker followed him, glad to get away from the grunting, swearing crowd inside.
"Curley," the foreman began, leaning against the house to ease his thigh and groin, "that Greaser of our'n is either going loco, or he is up to some devilment, an' I a whole lot favors th' devilment. I thought of telling him to clean out, get off th' range an' stay off, but I reckon I'll let him hang around a while longer to see just what his game is. Of course if he is crooked, it's rustling. I'd like an awful lot to ketch him rustling; it'd wipe out a lot of guessing, an' him at th' same time."
"They're all of 'em crooked," Curley replied, refilling the basin. "Every blasted one, an' he's worse than all th' others—he's a coyote!"
"Yes, I reckon you ain't far from right," replied Meeker. "Well, anyway, I put in a bad night an' rolled out earlier'n usual. I looked out an' saw somebody sneaking around th' corral, an', gettin' my gun, I went after him hot foot. It was Antonio, an' when I asks for whys an' wherefores, he gives me a fool yarn about having a dream. He woke up an' was plumb scared to death somebody was running off with th' ranch, an', being so all-fired worried about th' safety of th' ranch he's too lazy to work for, he just couldn't sleep, but had to get up an' saddle his cayuse an' ride around th' corrals to see if it was here. Now, what do you think of that?"
"Huh!" snorted Curley. "He don't care a continental cuss about this ranch or anybody on it, an' never did."
"Which same I endorses; it shore was a sudden change," Meeker replied, glancing at the Mexican's shack. "I looked in his hut an' saw his bunk hadn't been used since night afore last, so he must 'a had his dreams then. There was yaller clay on his stirrups—he must 'a been scared somebody was going to run off with th' river, too. Now he shore was rampaging all over creation last night—he didn't have no dreams nor no sleep in that bunk last night, nohow. Now, th' question is, where was he, an' what th' devil was he doing? I'd give twenty-five dollars if I knowed for shore."
"That's easy!" snorted Curley, trying to get water out of his ear. "Where'd I 'a been last night if I wasn't broke? Why, down in Eagle having a good time—there's lots of good times in that town if you've got th' price of more than a look-in. Or, mebby, he was off seeing his girl, his dulce, as he calls her. That's a good way to pass th' evening, too." Then, seeing the frown on Meeker's face he swiftly contradicted himself, realizing that it was no time for jesting. "Why, it looks to me like he might be a little interested in some of th' promiscuous cattle lifting that's going on 'round here. I'll pump him easy so he won't know what I'm driving at."
"Yes, you might do that if yo're shore you won't scare him away, but I want you to pass th' horse corral, anyhow, an' see what horse he rode. See how hard he pushed it riding around th' corrals, an' if there's any yellow clay on its legs. Don't let him see you doing it or he'll get gun-shy an' jump th' country. I'm going up to breakfast—Mary's calling me."
Curley looked up. "Shore I'll do it. Holy cats! It's raining some on th' hills, all right. Look yonder!"