Next night the office safe was opened an' fifteen hundred dollars was took. Every one thought right away of Bill Andrews, an' the ol' man sent us out in pairs to scour the country. The' wasn't much scourin' to be done, how-ever, 'cause we found Bill Andrews on the next ranch, an' they was ready to swear 'at he hadn't left it all night. The' wasn't no one else that any one felt like suspectin'. Jabez wasn't the man to weep over upsettin' a can o' condensed, an' purty soon the theft was forgot an' everything was runnin' along as smooth as forty quarts o' joint-oil.
The ol' man kept dependin' more an' more on Dick, until finally Dick got to signin' checks, orderin' all the supplies, an' takin' full charge; while Jabez spent most of his time taggin' around after Barbie. They was like a couple o' young children; but Barbie wasn't quite so high-headed with Dick after the dog affair, an' they got to ridin' together quite a bit themselves. Barbie was just as good friends with me as ever; but I could see—any one could see—that Jabez was willin' to call Dick a son-in-law just the minute that Barbie was.
By the time he had been there a year Dick was the big head chief, an' the ranch was boomin' along like a river steamboat. He allus got the best of everything in the way of supplies, an' every laddie-buck in the West knew of it; so 'at a Diamond Dot puncher didn't throw up his job just for exercise. The' was a swarm o' white-faced calves, an' about half of 'em wore other fellers' brands, which was a receipt for a lot of fancy money, so 'at Jabez was as well satisfied as the men; an' even Barbie had come to own up that Dick was the fittin'est man in those parts. I could read every thought in her head, an' it hurt me to think that at last I had dropped back to second fiddle; but I could see that Dick had had chances that I hadn't had, an'—an' I allus aim to play fair, so I took to ridin' alone an' workin' harder than I was used to.
She could strum a guitar till you'd be willin' to swear it was the heavenly harps of the Celustial Choir; an' she an' Dick used to loaf around in the moonlight makin' melody 'at was worth goin' a good long ways to hear. They sure made a tasty couple, an' all the boys used to like to see 'em together. In fact, the whole Diamond Dot was as match-makey as a quiltin' bee.
One moonlight night I'd been up to ol' Monody's grave, an' I came walkin' back about half-past nine. It was more'n twelve years since Ol' Monody had passed over, but it didn't seem that long. Just as I turned a corner; I heard a laugh that seemed to float to me from a long ways back in the past. It was Jim Jimison's laugh, an' as I came around the corner of the house there he stood with his back to me, talkin' to Barbie. "Well, for the Gee Whizz!" I cried. He turned, an' it was Dick. We looked into each other's eyes a moment, an' then I forced a laugh an' went on to the stallion stable, where I sat down to puzzle it out.
It wasn't very long before Dick came to me an' held out his hand. I took it, an' we gave an old-time grip. "I was wonderin' how long it would be before you saw through me," he sez.
I got the moon in his face an' looked at him a long time. Of course a dozen years and the beard made a lot of difference, but not near all. When I'd left him, he was only a boy, a boy all the way through,—looks, words, actions; while now he was a man an' a sizey one at that. It ain't years alone that make any such change. I knew in a minute that Jim had been through something that was mighty near too narrow to get through. "Well," sez I, "what's the story?"
"You put me on my feet, Happy," sez he, "an' after you left I just kept on goin'. I tended to my stuff, an' I improved it an' I took on new ranges, an' I made it go, I sure made it go. Then the Exporters Cattle Company got after me. My range was needed to fill a gap between two o' their ranges, an' they tried to make me sell.
"I didn't want to sell, I was makin' money an' I was layin' it up; and I wasn't ready to stop workin' at my age, so I fought back. I didn't stand any show. There's a bunch o' these big companies that are all the same, under different names, an' they fought me on the ground an' on the railroads, an' at the stock yards; they tried to turn my men again me; they had my stuff run onto their range, an' then tried to prevent my gettin' it back. I didn't mind their open warfare; but their underhanded ways drove me wild. One o' their agents used to dog me around every time I'd go to town. He'd grin an' ask me if I wasn't ready to sell out YET. I finally closed out the cattle, an' started to raise only horses. One night my three thorough-bred stallions had their throats cut, an' then next time I went to town he came in when I was eatin' my supper, grinnin' as usual, an' asked me if I thought raisin' hosses would pay.
"I knew what his game was an' tried my best to hold in, but I couldn't help tellin' him that I didn't suppose it would pay quite so well as hirin' out to murder hosses would. This was enough for him; he called me everything he could lay tongue to, and when I rose to my feet he pulled his gun. The other men in the room were beginnin' to sneer at me, but I knew the consequences, and started to leave. He grabbed me by the shoulder an' whirled me around. 'Git down on your knees,' he sez, 'an' 'pologize to me.'