Olaf had the gift o’ sensin’ men, all right; but his judgment wasn’t such as to make a yearlin’ bull willin’ to swap, and what he did was to take the Pearl Crick Spread as a homestead. It was only about fifteen miles from the Cross brand ranch house, and it was one o’ the choicest bits in the whole country. This act was on a par with an infant baby sneakin’ into a wolf den to steal meat. The Friar put the finishin’ touch by sayin’ that Olaf had bought the old, run-down T brand, and then I lost patience.
“Does Olaf sleep with a lightnin’ rod connected to the back of his neck?” I asked as sober as a boil.
“What do ya mean?” asked the Friar, who was innocent about some things.
“Well, that looks like another good way to attract trouble,” sez I.
“Olaf does not want any trouble,” sez the Friar with dignity. “All he wants is an opportunity to work his claim in peace. He has more self-control ’n airy other man I’ve ever known.”
“It’s a handy thing to have, too,” sez I, “providin’ a feller knows how to use it. Why, ya could change a T brand to a Cross quicker ’n a one-armed Mexican could roll a cigarette. Ty Jones’ll get more o’ that brand ’n ever Olaf will. How is Kit Murray gettin’ along?”
“She is a fine girl,” sez the Friar, his face lightin’. “She has cut out all her wild ways, and Mother Shipley sez her daughter thinks as much of her as if they was sisters. I got word last week ’at her husband died in a hospital; and I hope she’ll marry Olaf some day.”
“Well, I’ll bet the liquor again’ the bottle ’at she never does it,” sez I. “In the first place, she’s got too much style, and in the second, she’s got too much sense. Ty’s already got more stuff ’n he can take care of through a dry summer, and the next one we have, he is goin’ to need Pearl Crick Spread. A grizzly traffics along without bein’ disturbed, until he gets the idee that he owns consid’able property, and has legal rights. Then one day the’ don’t seem to be anything else demandin’ attention, so out go a parcel o’ men and harvest the grizzly. That’s the way it’ll be with Olaf.”
“I advised him to move,” sez the Friar; “but he’s set in his ways.”
“Self-control,” sez I. “I was workin’ in a mine once with a mule and a Hungarian; and both of ’em had an unusual stock o’ self-control. One day right after a fuse had been lit, the mule decided to rest near the spot; an’ the Hun decided to make the mule proceed. We argued with ’em as long as it was safe; but the mule had his self-control an’ all four feet set, and the Hun was usin’ his self-control an’ a shovel. All we ever found was the mule’s right hind leg stickin’ through the Hungarian’s hat, and we buried these jus’ as they was.”