1894561Bob Chester's Grit — Chapter 22Frank V. Webster

CHAPTER XXII


ON THE RANGE STATION


For some time the boy and the man rode in silence, each occupied with his own thoughts.

"Do you know why Mr. Ford calls the dog Chester?" Bob suddenly asked.

"He had to give him some name, I suppose."

"But it's such a queer name, Hal. I asked him and he wouldn't tell me."

A moment the agent was silent, evidently debating something with himself, and finally said:

"I suppose you had better know, Bob, that there's something queer about John Ford. They tell a lot of stories about him, but the one most common is that he's waiting till he gets one hundred thousand dollars before starting on a tour of revenge.

"He told me himself, however, that when he had accumulated that amount he was going to find a man. But more than that he wouldn't say.

"If I were you, I wouldn't ask too many questions."

During the conversation they had covered so much ground that the roofs of Fairfax village were visible in the distance and as he noticed this, the agent drew rein, saying:

"I didn't realize we had come so far. You'd better go back, Bob. Suppose you can find the way?"

"Sure. If I can't Chester will show me, won't you, old boy?"

And in answer, as though he had understood perfectly, the dog started off in the direction of the ranch.

"I reckon you'll be safe with him," commented the agent. "Take care of yourself, Bob. And come over to see me when you can. By the way, has John said where he was going to send you?"

"Yes, over near Red Top, with his short-horns."

"You've certainly made a hit with him, Bob. That's the best and easiest berth on the ranch. Grazing's good and water plenty. You hardly have to move from one week to another. So long." And he gave the boy's hand a hearty grip. "I've wired your father of your safe arrival. When there are any letters, I'll bring them over."

And shaking out his reins, the agent galloped away.

Bob, however, did not hurry on his return to the ranch, his mind being occupied with trying to find the reason for the grizzled plainsman's evident liking for him and his kindness, so at variance with his usual manner.

But the puzzle was too difficult for him, and he finally abandoned it to dismount and practice the things the agent had taught him.

Such action at first mystified Firefly, but Bob patted and spoke to him, explaining what he was trying to do just as though he were talking to a human being.

"You and Chester and I will have many a long day and night together, so we had better be good friends right away. I've got to learn to hobble and saddle and I want to do it before I return to the ranch."

Evidently satisfied with this explanation, Firefly stood quietly, nibbling at the grass now and again, while the dog sat down and watched operations.

Having finally acquired the knack, Bob remounted and was soon at the ranch, where he turned his pony into the corral and carried his saddle to the cabin.

"Then you've learned enough to turn your pony into the corral, eh?" was Ford's greeting as Bob threw his saddle on the floor.

"Yes, sir. And to hobble and saddle and make my horse whirl when I'm mounting."

"Hal's a good friend to have," commented the ranchman. "Did he show you how to throw a rope?"

"Do you mean my lariat?"

"No, I mean rope; that's what we call it on the plains, though it means the same thing."

"No, he didn't."

"Then I will. You'll find some grub in the cupboard. Eat all you want and put the rest back."

"But aren't you going to eat with me?" asked Bob in an injured tone.

"I'd like to. But I ain't eaten with a man since——" then suddenly checking himself he stammered, "well, since twelve year ago."

Eager, indeed, was Bob to ask the reason for this custom, but, remembering Hal's warning, he restrained the question that was on his lips just as the ranchman, evidently determined to end the conversation, went outdoors.

The mention of eating recalled to Bob that it was hours since he had breakfasted, and hastily he explored the cupboard, bringing forth some crisp bacon, biscuits, cookies and pie while from the stove he took the coffee pot, then sat down to a meal that seemed, to his keen appetite, the best he had ever tasted.

As he was finishing, the ranchman came in and, when the food had been put away, took Bob out to teach him how to throw the rope.

For this purpose Ford had driven a four-foot stake into the ground. Making his pupil stand about twenty feet from it, he had him get used to whirling the rope around his head and then told him to drop the noose over the post.

At first Bob failed, but he was soon able to drop the noose over. So much accomplished, the ranchman ordered him to get his pony and try to rope the stake while riding past.

This, however, was more difficult, and Bob made more misses than "ringers."

"You can practice that on the range, Bob. We won't waste any more time here. I want to take you over to the short-horns tonight."

"You mean I'm to go on duty tonight?" asked the boy in delight.

"Exactly. Only there won't be much to do. Just keep awake in case anything happens. I'll have Merry Dick, the best of my boys, stay with you for a day or so."

The ranchman had saddled a big bay broncho when Bob saddled Firefly and, after locking the door of his cabin, they galloped away toward the west.

On the ride the plainsman gave Bob many valuable pointers about what to do if trouble broke out in the herd, and for getting along with the other cowboys.

After an hour or more of riding, they came to the herd, spread out over a quarter of a mile of plain, and rode round it till they came to where four cowboys were lolling on the grass, smoking.

Looking up lazily at the sight of their boss, when they caught a glimpse of Bob's fresh, young face they evinced a lively interest.

"Boys, this is Bob," said Ford, by way of introduction. "Bob, the homeliest of the lot is Merry Dick; the one next to him to the left is Yellow Tom; next is Shorty Flinn and the last is Crazy Ned.

"Dick, you're to go over on the West station with Bob for three days. Get some grub ready.

"Now, remember, every man Jack of you, Bob is my special friend. If you try any funny business, you'll have to settle with me; and don't forget, cowboys ain't worth near as much as a lean steer."

And without another word, this strange man wheeled his horse and rode away.