_ CHAPTER XXI. BORROWED PLUMES
"He speaks of a pretty round sum," said Walter Stone, returning the letter that Collie had asked him to read. "I don't know but that the land you speak of is a good investment. You were thinking of raising stock--horses?"
"Yes, sir. The Oro people are making good at it. The land north of you is good grazing-land and good water. Of course, I got to wait for a while. Red says in the letter that my share of the claim so far is five thousand. That wouldn't go far on that piece of land, but I've saved some, too."
"You might make a payment to hold the land," said Stone.
"I don't like that way. I want to buy it all at once."
Walter Stone smiled. Collie was ambitious, and rather inexperienced. "So you think you will leave us and go to mining until you have made enough more to buy it outright?"
"Yes, sir. I don't want you to think I ain't satisfied here. I like it here."
"I know you do, Collie. Well, think it over. Prospecting is gambling. It is sometimes magnificent gambling. Miss Lacharme's father was a prospector. We have never heard from him since he went out on the desert. But that has nothing to do with it. If I didn't believe you'd make a first-rate citizen, I shouldn't hesitate a minute about your going. I'd rather see you ranching it. We need solid men here in California. There are so many remittance-men, invalids, idlers, speculators, and unbalanced enthusiasts that do more harm than good, that we need a few
new landmarks. We need a few new cornerstones and keystones to stiffen the structure that is building so fast. I realize that we must build from the ground up--not hang out tents from the trees. That day is past."
"It's a big thing--to be stuck on California more than getting rich," said Collie.
"Yes. The State of California is a bank--a new bank. The more depositors we have, the stronger we shall be--provided our depositors have faith in us. We have their good will now. We need solid, two-handed men who can take hold and prove that investment in our State is profitable."
"You bet!" exclaimed Collie, catching some of the older man's enthusiasm. Then he added with less enthusiasm: "But how about such things as the Jap ranchers dumping carloads of onions in the rivers and melons in the ocean, by the ton, and every one cut so it can't be used by poor folks? If Eastern people got on to that they would shy off pretty quick."
"Yes," said the rancher, frowning. "It's true enough that such things do happen. I've known of boatloads of fish being dumped back in the ocean because the middlemen wouldn't give the fishermen a living price. In western Canada thousands of bushels of grain have been burned on the ground because the Eastern market was down and the railroads would not make a rate that would allow a profit to the farmer. Such things are not local to California. California is in the limelight just now and such things are naturally prominent."
"It looks awful bad for good fruit and vegetables and fish to be thrown away when folks have to pay ten cents for a loaf of bread no bigger than a watch-charm," said Collie.
"It is bad. Crookedness in real estate transactions is bad. We don't want to waste our time, however, in feeling worried about it. What we want to do is to show the other fellow that
our work is successful and straight."
"Yes, sir. A fellow has got to believe in something. I guess believing in his own State is the best."
"Of course. Now, about your leaving us. I had rather you would stay until the Marshalls go. Louise and Mrs. Stone depend on you so much."
"Sure I will! You see, Red don't say to come, in his letter, but he sent the check for three hundred if I did want to come. There's no hurry."
"All right. Hello, Louise! Dinner waiting?"
"Yes, Uncle Walter. How are you, Collie?" And Louise nodded to him. "What are you two hatching? You seem so serious."
"Plans for the ultimate glory of the State," said Stone.
"Ultimate?"
"Yes. We've been going beneath the surface of things a little. Collie expects to go even deeper, so he tells me."
Collie walked slowly toward the bunk-house. Halfway there he took Overland's check from the letter and studied it. He put it back into his pocket. As he passed the corrals, Apache nickered in a friendly way. "Haven't got a thing for you," said Collie. "Not a bite. We're not goin' to town to-day. To-morrow, maybe, for there'll be doings at the Oro Rancho and we'll be there--we'll be there!"
With a run and a spring the young man leaped the gate and trotted into the bunk-house.
Brand Williams was solemnly shaving. He turned a lathered face toward Collie whose abrupt entrance had all but caused the foreman to sacrifice his left ear. "Well," he drawled, "who is dead?"
"You mean, Who is alive? I guess. Say, Brand, what do you think that Yuma horse over at the Oro is worth?"
"That dam' outlaw? Ain't worth the trouble of mentioning."
"But, oh, Brand, she's built right! I tell you! Short-coupled, and them legs and withers! They ain't a pony in the valley can touch her. And only three years old!"
"Nor a man neither," said Williams.
"She's been scared to death because the fellows was scared of her and started in wrong."
"So'll the man be that tries to ride her. Say, I seen that copper-colored, china-eyed, she-son of a Kansas cyclone put Bull O'Toole so far to the bad once that his return ticket expired long before he got back. I tell you, kid, she's
outlaw. She's got the disposition of a Comanche with a streak of lightnin' on a drunk throwed in. You keep off that hoss!"
"Maybe," said Collie. "But I notice you put me to breakin' about all the stock on this ranch that you can't handle yourself."
Which was true. Williams shaved and perspired in silence.
"Let's see," he said presently, emerging from the wash-basin. "When's that barbecue comin' off?"
"To-morrow. As if you didn't know!"
"Sunday, eh? Well, you might as well get killed on a Sunday as any other day. I suppose your askin' about that hoss means you are thinkin' of ridin' her, eh?"
"I was thinkin' of it. They are putting her up as a chance for the man that can. She has put three of their boys to the bad. Matt Gleason, the Oro foreman, says he'll give her to any Moonstoner that can stay on her two minutes."
"He said 'Moonstoner' particular?" queried Williams.
"He did. To me. I was over tryin' to buy her."
"You're plumb loco. So he said any
Moonstoner eh? Any Moonstoner. By crip, I've a notion--Let's see, there's Miguel--he's too swift. Billy Dime might make it if he didn't get too much red-eye in him first. Bud ain't steady enough--and it wouldn't look right if I was the only rider here to take a chance. I dunno."
"What you gaspin' about?" queried Collie.
"Nothin', kid. You can get hosses ready for all the ladies for to-morrow mornin' at six sharp. Sabe? I got orders to send you over with 'em. Mebby you're some proud now, eh? Well, don't fall off Apache pertendin' you're so polite you can't spit."
"What you sore about, Brand?"
"I was thinkin' what a slashin' string of riders we got. Here a little old ranch like the Oro says they'll give a hoss to any Moonstoner what kin stay on him for two minutes. It's plumb sickenin'. Kids! Jest kids, on this ranch."
"That so? Say, Brand, you ain't got rid of so much English talk at once since I been here. You ought to talk more. You keep too quiet. Talking sociable will help to take the wrinkles out of your neck."
"You talk so much you'll never live to get any."
"Say, Brand."
"Uhuh."
"Will you lend me the Chola spurs and that swell quirt old Miguel plaited for you, and your Mexican bridle, just for to-morrow?"
"So that's what you been lovin' up to me for, eh?"
"Lovin' up to you, you darned old--darned old--
dude, you."
"Hold on! You said it! Take the spurs! Take the quirt! Take the bridle! Take the hat and gloves with the silk roses on! Anybody that's got nerve enough to call
me a
dude can take anything I got. Say, you don't want to borrow a pair of
pants, do you?"
Honors were about even when Collie left the bunk-house, his arms laden with the foreman's finery. He colored to his hair as he saw Louise coming toward him. He fumbled at the gate, opened it, and stood aside for her to pass. As she smiled and thanked him, he heard his name called.
"Hey!" shouted Williams, coming suddenly from the bunk-house. "Hey, Collie! You went away without them pants! I'll lend 'em to you--"
Collie, his face flaming, strode down the trail, the blood drumming in his ears. _