Truth Crushed To Earth Etc
From: Flying U Ranch
Andy, only half awake, tried to obey both instinct and habit and reach
up to pull his hat down over his eyes, so that the sun could not shine
upon his lids so hotly; when he discovered that he could do no more than
wiggle his fingers, he came back with a jolt to reality and tried to sit
up. It is surprising to a man to discover suddenly just how important a
part his arms play in the most simple of body movements; Andy, with his
arms pinioned tightly the whole length of them, rolled over on his face,
kicked a good deal, and rolled back again, but he did not sit up, as he
had confidently expected to do.
He lay absolutely quiet for at least five minutes, staring up at the
brilliant blue arch above him. Then he began to speak rapidly and
earnestly; a man just close enough to hear his voice sweeping up to a
certain rhetorical climax, pausing there and commencing again with a
rhythmic fluency of intonation, might have thought that he was repeating
poetry; indeed, it sounded like some of Milton's majestic blank
verse, but it was not. Andy was engaged in a methodical, scientific,
reprehensibly soul-satisfying period of swearing.
A curlew, soaring low, with long beak outstretched before him, and
long legs outstretched behind cast a beady eye upon him, and shrilled
"Cor-reck! Cor-reck!" in unregenerate approbation of the blasphemy.
Andy stopped suddenly and laughed. "Glad you agree with me, old sport,"
he addressed the bird whimsically, with a reaction to his normally
cheerful outlook. "Sheepherders are all those things I named over,
birdie, and some that I can't think of at present."
He tried again, this time with a more careful realization of his
limitations, to assume an upright position; and being a persevering
young man, and one with a ready wit, he managed at length to wriggle
himself back upon the slope from which he had slid in his sleep, and, by
digging in his heels and going carefully, he did at last rise upon his
knees, and from there triumphantly to his feet.
He had at first believed that one of the herders would, in the course
of an hour or so, return and untie him, when he hoped to be able to
retrieve, in a measure, his self-respect, which he had lost when the
first three feet of his own rope had encircled him. To be tied and
trussed by sheepherders! Andy gritted his teeth and started down the
He was hungry, and his lunch was tied to his saddle. He looked eagerly
down the coulee, in the faint hope of seeing his horse grazing somewhere
along its length, until the numbness of his arms and hands reminded him
that forty lunches, tied upon forty saddles at his side, would be of no
use to him in his present position. His hands he could not move from his
thighs; he could wiggle his fingers--which he did, to relieve as much
as possible that unpleasant, prickly sensation which we call a "going to
sleep" of the afflicted members. When it occurred to him that he could
not do anything with his horse if he found it, he gave up looking for it
and started for the ranch, walking awkwardly, because of his bonds, the
sun shining hotly upon his brown head, because his hat had been knocked
off in the scuffle, and he could not pick it up and put it back where it
Taking a straight course across the prairie, he struck Flying U coulee
at the point where the sheep had left it. On the way there he had
crossed their trail where they went through the fence farther along
the coulee than before, and therefore with a better chance of passing
undetected; especially since the Happy Family, believing that he was
forcing them steadily to the north, would not be watching for sheep. The
barbed wire barrier bothered him somewhat. He was compelled to lie down
and roll under the fence, in the most undignified manner, and, when he
was through, there was the problem of getting upon his feet again. But
he managed it somehow, and went on down the coulee, perspiring with the
heat and a bitter realization of his ignominy. What the Happy Family
would have to say when they saw him, even Andy Green's vivid imagination
declined to picture.
He knew by the sun that it was full noon when he came in sight of the
stable and corrals, and his soul sickened at the thought of facing that
derisive bunch of punchers, with their fiendish grins and their barbed
tongues. But he was hungry, and his arms had reached the limit of
prickly sensations and were numb to his shoulders. He shook his hair
back from his beaded forehead, cast a wary glance at the silent stables,
set his jaw, and went on up the hill to the mess-house, wishing tardily
that he had waited until they were off at work again, when he might
intimidate old Patsy into keeping quiet about his predicament.
Within the mess-house was the clatter of knives and forks plied by
hungry men, the sound of desultory talk and a savory odor of good
things to eat. The door was closed. Andy stood before it as a
guilty-conscienced child stands before its teacher; clicked his teeth
together, and, since he could not open the door, lifted his right foot
and gave it a kick to strain the hinges.
Within were exclamations of astonishment, silence and then a heavy
tread. Patsy opened the door, gasped and stood still, his eyes popping
out like a startled rabbit.
"Well, what's eating you?" Andy demanded querulously, and pushed past
him into the room.
Not all of the Happy Family were there. Cal, Jack Bates, Irish and
Happy Jack had gone into the Bad Lands next to the river; but there were
enough left to make the soul of Andy quiver forebodingly, and to send
the flush of extreme humiliation to his cheeks.
The Happy Family looked at him in stunned surprise; then they glanced at
one another in swift, wordless inquiry, grinned wisely and warily, and
went on with their dinner. At least they pretended to go on with
their dinner, while Andy glared at them with amazed reproach in his
misleadingly honest gray eyes.
"When you've got plenty of time," he said at last in a choked tone,
"maybe one of you obliging cusses will untie this damned rope."
"Why, sure!" Pink threw a leg over the bench and got up with cheerful
alacrity. "I'll do it now, if you say so; I didn't know but what that
was some new fad of yours, like--"
"Fad!" Andy repeated the word like an explosion.
"Well, by golly, Andy needn't think I'm goin' to foller that there
style," Slim stated solemnly. "I need m' rope for something else than to
tie n' clothes on with."
"I sure do hate to see a man wear funny things just to make himself
conspicuous," Pink observed, while he fumbled at the knot, which was
intricate. Andy jerked away from him that he might face him ragefully.
"Maybe this looks funny to you," he cried, husky with wrath. "But I
can't seem to see the joke, myself. I admit I let then herders make
a monkey of me.... They slipped up behind, going down into Antelope
coulee, and slid down the bluff onto me; and, before I could get up,
they got me tied, all right. I licked one of 'en before that, and
thought I had 'en gentled down--"
Andy stopped short, silenced by that unexplainable sense which warns us
when our words are received with cold disbelief.
"Mh-hm--I thought maybe you'd run up against a hostile jackrabbit, or
something," Pink purred, and went back to his place on the bench.
"Haw-haw-haw-w-w!" came Big Medicine's tardy bellow. "That's more
reasonable than the sheepherder story, by cripes!"
Andy looked at them much as he had stared up at the sky before he began
to swear--speechlessly, with a trembling of the muscles around his
mouth. He was quite white, considering how tanned he was, and his
forehead was shiny, with beads of perspiration standing thickly upon it.
"Weary, I wish you'd untie this rope. I can't." He spoke still in that
peculiar, husky tone, and, when the last words were out, his teeth went
together with a snap.
Weary glanced inquiringly across at the Native Son, who was regarding
Andy steadily, as one gazes upon a tangled rope, looking for the end
which will easiest lead to an untangling.
Miguel's brown eyes turned languidly to meet the look. "You'd better
untie him," he advised in his soft drawl. "He may not be in the habit of
doing it--but he's telling the truth."
"Untie me, Miguel," begged Andy, going over to him, "and let me at this
"I'll do it," said Weary, and rose pacifically. "I kinda believe you
myself, Andy. But you can't blame the boys none; you've fooled 'em till
they're dead shy of anything they can't see through. And, besides, it
sure does look like a plant. I'd back you single-handed against a dozen
sheepherders like then two we've been chasing around. If I hadn't felt
that way I wouldn't have sent yuh out alone with 'em."
"Well, Andy needn't think he's goin' to stick me on that there story,"
Slim declared with brutal emphasis. "I've swallered too many baits,
by golly. He's figurin' on gettin' us all out on the war-path, runnin'
around in circles, so's't he can give us the laugh. I'll bet, by golly,
he paid then herders to tie him up like that. He can't fool me!"
"Say, Slim, I do believe your brains is commencin' to sprout!" Big
Medicine thumped him painfully upon the back by way of accenting the
compliment. "You got the idee, all right."
Andy stood quiet while Weary unwound the rope; lifted his numbed arms
with some difficulty, and displayed to the doubters his rope-creased
wrists, and purple, swollen hands.
"I couldn't fight a caterpiller right now," he said thickly. "Look at
them hands! Do yuh call that a josh? I've been tied up like a bed-roll
for five hours, you--" Well, never mind, he merely repeated a part of
what he had recited aloud in Antelope coulee, the only difference being
that he applied the vitriolic utterances to the Happy Family instead of
to sheepherders, and that with the second recitation he gained much in
fluency and dramatic delivery.
It is not nice for a man to swear; to swear the way Andy did, at any
rate. But the result perhaps atoned in a measure for the wickedness, in
that the Happy Family were absolutely convinced of his sincerity, and
the feelings of Andy greatly relieved, so that, when he had for the
third time that day completely exhausted his vocabulary, he sat down and
began to eat his dinner with a keen appetite.
"I don't suppose you know where your horse is at, by this tine," Weary
observed, as casually as possible, breaking a somewhat constrained
"I don't--and I don't give a darn," Andy snapped back. He ate a few
mouthfuls, and added less savagely: "He wasn't in sight, as I came
along. I didn't follow the trail; I struck straight across and came down
the coulee. He may be at the gate, and he may be down toward Rogers'."
Pink reached for a toothpick, eyeing Andy side-long; dimpled his cheeks
disarmingly, and cleared his throat. "Please don't kill me off when you
get that pie swallowed," he began pacifically. "Strange as it may seem,
I believe you, Andy. What I want to know is this: Who owns them Dots?
And what are they chasing all over the Flying U range for? It looks
plumb malicious, to me. Did you find out anything about 'en, Andy, while
you--er--while they--" His eyes twinkled and betrayed him for an arrant
pretender. (Pink was not afraid of anything on earth--least of all Andy
"I will kill yuh by inches, if I hear any remarks out of yuh that
ain't respectful," Andy promised, thawing to his normal tone, which was
pleasant to the ear. "I didn't find out much about 'em. The fellow I
licked told me that Whittaker and Oleson owned the sheep. He didn't
"Well--by--golly!" Shin thrust his head forward belligerently.
"Whittaker! Well, what d'yuh think uh that!" He glared from one face
to the other, his gaze at last resting upon Weary. "Say, do yuh reckon
Weary paid no heed to Slim. He leaned forward, his face turned to Andy
with that concentration of attention which means so much more than mere
exclamation. "You're sure he said Whittaker?" he asked.
His tone and his attitude arrested Andy's cup midway to his mouth.
"Sure--Whittaker and Oleson. I never heard of the outfit--who's this
Weary settled back in his place and smiled, but his eyes had quite lost
their habitually sunny expression.
"Up until four years ago," he explained evenly, "he was the Old Man's
partner. We caught him in some mighty dirty work, and--well, he sold
out to the Old Man. The old party with the hoofs and tail can't be
everywhere at once, the way I've got it sized up, so he turns some of
his business over to other folks. Dunk Whittaker's his top hand."
"Why, by golly, he framed up a job on the Gordon boys, and railroaded
'em to the pen, just--"
"Oh, that's the gazabo!" Andy's eyes shone with enlightenment. "I've
heard a lot about Dunk, but I didn't know his last name--"
"Say! I'll bet they're the outfit that bought out Denson. That's why old
Denson acted so queer, maybe. Selling to a sheep outfit would make the
old devil feel kinda uneasy, talking to us--" Pink's eyes were big and
purple with excitement. "And that train-load of sheep we saw Sunday,
I'll bet is the same identical outfit."
"Dunk Whittaker'd better not try to monkey with me, by golly!" Slim's
face was lowering. "And he'd better not monkey with the Flying U either.
I'd pump him so full uh holes he'd look like a colander, by golly!"
Weary got up and started to the door, his face suddenly grown careworn.
"Slim, you and Miguel better go and hunt up Andy's horse," he said with
a hint of abstraction in his tone, as though his mind was busy with more
important things. "Maybe Andy'll feel able to help you set those posts,
Bud--and you'd better go along the upper end of the little pasture with
the wire stretchers and tighten her up; the top wire is pretty loose, I
noticed this morning." His fingers fumbled with the door-knob.
"Want me to do anything?" Pink asked quizzically just behind him. "I
thought sure we'd go and remonstrate with then gay--"
Weary interrupted him. "The herders can wait--and, anyway, I've kinda
got an idea Andy wants to hand out his own brand of poison to that
bunch. You and I will take a ride over to Denson's and see what's going
on over there. Mamma!" he added fervently, under his breath, "I sure do
wish Chip and the Old Man were here!"
Next: The Dot Outfit
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