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ranch got to be purty well known them days among automobeelists。 The
strength of their cars was horse…power； of course； but the speed of them
they got to ratin' by chicken…power。 Some of them used to come way up
from Los Angeles just to try out a new car along our road with the Honk…
honks for pace…makers。 We charged them a little somethin'； and then； too；
we opened up the road…house and the bar； so we did purty well。 It wasn't
necessary to work any longer at that bogus placer。 Evenin's we sat
around outside and swapped yarns； and I bragged on my chickens。 The
chickens would gather round close to listen。
They liked to hear their praises sung； all right。 You bet they sabe！
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The only reason a chicken； or any other critter； isn't intelligent is because
he hasn't no chance to expand。
Why； we used to run races with 'em。 Some of us would hold two or
more chickens back of a chalk line； and the starter'd blow the horn from a
hundred yards to a mile away； dependin' on whether it was a sprint or for
distance。 We had pools on the results； gave odds； made books； and kept
records。 After the thing got knowed we made money hand over fist。
The stranger broke off abruptly and began to roll a cigarette。
〃What did you quit it for； then？〃 ventured Charley； out of the hushed
silence。 〃Pride；〃 replied the stranger solemnly。 〃Haughtiness of spirit。〃
〃How so？〃 urged Charley； after a pause。 〃Them chickens；〃 continued
the stranger； after a moment； 〃stood around listenin' to me a…braggin' of
what superior fowls they was until they got all puffed up。 They wouldn't
have nothin' whatever to do with the ordinary chickens we brought in for
eatin' purposes； but stood around lookin' bored when there wasn't no sport
doin'。 They got to be just like that Four Hundred you read about in the
papers。 It was one continual round of grasshopper balls； race meets； and
afternoon hen…parties。 They got idle and haughty； just like folks。 Then
come race suicide。 They got to feelin' so aristocratic the hens wouldn't
have no eggs。〃 Nobody dared say a word。
〃Windy Bill's snake〃 began the narrator genially。 〃Stranger；〃
broke in Windy Bill； with great emphasis； 〃as to that snake； I want you to
understand this： yereafter in my estimation that snake is nothin' but an
ornery angleworm！〃
PART II THE TWO GUN MAN
CHAPTER ONE THE CATTLE RUSTLERS
Buck Johnson was American born； but with a black beard and a
dignity of manner that had earned him the title of Senor。 He had drifted
into southeastern Arizona in the days of Cochise and Victorio and
Geronimo。 He had persisted； and so in time had come to control the
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waterand hence the grazingof nearly all the Soda Springs Valley。 His
troubles were many； and his difficulties great。 There were the ordinary
problems of lean and dry years。 There were also the extraordinary
problems of devastating Apaches； rivals for early and ill…defined range
rightsand cattle rustlers。 Senor Buck Johnson was a man of
capacity； courage； directness of method； and perseverance。 Especially
the latter。 Therefore he had survived to see the Apaches subdued； the
range rights adjusted； his cattle increased to thousands； grazing the area of
a principality。 Now； all the energy and fire of his frontiersman's nature he
had turned to wiping out the third uncertainty of an uncertain business。
He found it a task of some magnitude。 For Senor Buck Johnson lived
just north of that terra incognita filled with the mystery of a double chance
of death from man or the flaming desert known as the Mexican border。
There； by natural gravitation； gathered all the desperate characters of three
States and two republics。 He who rode into it took good care that no one
should ride behind him； lived warily； slept light； and breathed deep when
once he had again sighted the familiar peaks of Cochise's Stronghold。
No one professed knowledge of those who dwelt therein。 They moved；
mysterious as the desert illusions that compassed them about。 As you
rode； the ranges of mountains visibly changed form； the monstrous； snaky；
sea…like growths of the cactus clutched at your stirrup； mock lakes
sparkled and dissolved in the middle distance； the sun beat hot and
merciless； the powdered dry alkali beat hotly and mercilessly backand
strange； grim men； swarthy； bearded； heavily armed； with red…rimmed
unshifting eyes； rode silently out of the mists of illusion to look on you
steadily； and then to ride silently back into the desert haze。 They might
be only the herders of the gaunt cattle； or again they might belong to the
Lost Legion that peopled the country。 All you could know was that of
the men who entered in； but few returned。 Directly north of this
unknown land you encountered parallel fences running across the country。
They enclosed nothing； but offered a check to the cattle drifting toward the
clutch of the renegades； and an obstacle to swift； dashing forays。 Of
cattle…rustling there are various forms。 The boldest consists quite simply
of running off a bunch of stock； hustling it over the Mexican line； and
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there selling it to some of the big Sonora ranch owners。 Generally this
sort means war。 Also are there subtler means； grading in skill from the
re…branding through a wet blanket； through the crafty refashioning of a
brand to the various methods of separating the cow from her unbranded
calf。 In the course of his task Senor Buck Johnson would have to do with
them all； but at present he existed in a state of warfare； fighting an enemy
who stole as the Indians used to steal。
Already be had fought two pitched battles a