If you are knowing in the chronicles of the ring you will recall to mind an event in the early 'nineties when, for a minute and sundry2 odd seconds, a champion and a "would-be" faced each other on the alien side of an international river. So brief a conflict had rarely imposed upon the fair promise of true sport. The reporters made what they could of it, but, divested4 of padding, the action was sadly fugacious. The champion merely smote5 his victim, turned his back upon him, remarking, "I know what I done to dat stiff," and extended an arm like a ship's mast for his glove to be removed.
Which accounts for a trainload of extremely disgusted gentlemen in an uproar6 of fancy vests and neck-wear being spilled from their pullmans in San Antonio in the early morning following the fight. Which also partly accounts for the unhappy predicament in which "Cricket" McGuire found himself as he tumbled from his car and sat upon the depot7 platform, torn by a spasm8 of that hollow, racking cough so familiar to San Antonian ears. At that time, in the uncertain light of dawn, that way passed Curtis Raidler, the Nueces County cattleman--may his shadow never measure under six foot two.
The cattleman, out this early to catch the south-bound for his ranch11 station, stopped at the side of the distressed12 patron of sport, and spoke13 in the kindly14 drawl of his ilk and region, "Got it pretty bad, bud?"
"Cricket" McGuire, ex-feather-weight prizefighter, tout15, jockey, follower16 of the "ponies17," all-round sport, and manipulator of the gum balls and walnut18 shells, looked up pugnaciously19 at the imputation20 cast by "bud."
"G'wan," he rasped, "telegraph pole. I didn't ring for yer."
Another paroxysm wrung21 him, and he leaned limply against a convenient baggage truck. Raidler waited patiently, glancing around at the white hats, short overcoats, and big cigars thronging22 the platform. "You're from the No'th, ain't you, bud?" he asked when the other was partially23 recovered. "Come down to see the fight?"
"Fight!" snapped McGuire. "Puss-in-the-corner! 'Twas a hypodermic injection. Handed him just one like a squirt of dope, and he's asleep, and no tanbark needed in front of his residence. Fight!" He rattled24 a bit, coughed, and went on, hardly addressing the cattleman, but rather for the relief of voicing his troubles. "No more dead sure t'ings for me. But Rus Sage25 himself would have snatched at it. Five to one dat de boy from Cork26 wouldn't stay t'ree rounds is what I invested in. Put my last cent on, and could already smell the sawdust in dat all-night joint27 of Jimmy Delaney's on T'irty-seventh Street I was goin' to buy. And den--say, telegraph pole, what a gazaboo a guy is to put his whole roll on one turn of the gaboozlum!"
"You're plenty right," said the big cattleman; "more 'specially28 when you lose. Son, you get up and light out for a hotel. You got a mighty29 bad cough. Had it long?"
"Lungs," said McGuire comprehensively. "I got it. The croaker says I'll come to time for six months longer--maybe a year if I hold my gait. I wanted to settle down and take care of myself. Dat's why I speculated on dat five to one perhaps. I had a t'ousand iron dollars saved up. If I winned I was goin' to buy Delaney's cafe. Who'd a t'ought dat stiff would take a nap in de foist31 round--say?"
"It's a hard deal," commented Raidler, looking down at the diminutive32 form of McGuire crumpled33 against the truck. "But you go to a hotel and rest. There's the Menger and the Maverick34, and--"
"And the Fi'th Av'noo, and the Waldorf-Astoria," mimicked35 McGuire. "Told you I went broke. I'm on de bum36 proper. I've got one dime37 left. Maybe a trip to Europe or a sail in me private yacht would fix me up-- pa-per!"
He flung his dime at a newsboy, got his Express, propped38 his back against the truck, and was at once rapt in the account of his Waterloo, as expanded by the ingenious press.
Curtis Raidler interrogated39 an enormous gold watch, and laid his hand on McGuire's shoulder.
"Come on, bud," he said. "We got three minutes to catch the train."
Sarcasm40 seemed to be McGuire's vein41.
"You ain't seen me cash in any chips or call a turn since I told you I was broke, a minute ago, have you? Friend, chase yourself away."
"You're going down to my ranch," said the cattleman, "and stay till you get well. Six months'll fix you good as new." He lifted McGuire with one hand, and half-dragged him in the direction of the train.
"What about the money?" said McGuire, struggling weakly to escape.
"Money for what?" asked Raidler, puzzled. They eyed each other, not understanding, for they touched only as at the gear of bevelled cog- wheels--at right angles, and moving upon different axes.
Passengers on the south-bound saw them seated together, and wondered at the conflux of two such antipodes. McGuire was five feet one, with a countenance44 belonging to either Yokohama or Dublin. Bright-beady of eye, bony of cheek and jaw45, scarred, toughened, broken and reknit, indestructible, grisly, gladiatorial as a hornet, he was a type neither new nor unfamiliar46. Raidler was the product of a different soil. Six feet two in height, miles broad, and no deeper than a crystal brook47, he represented the union of the West and South. Few accurate pictures of his kind have been made, for art galleries are so small and the mutoscope is as yet unknown in Texas. After all, the only possible medium of portrayal48 of Raidler's kind would be the fresco--something high and simple and cool and unframed.
They were rolling southward on the International. The timber was huddling49 into little, dense50 green motts at rare distances before the inundation51 of the downright, vert prairies. This was the land of the ranches52; the domain53 of the kings of the kine.
McGuire sat, collapsed54 into his corner of the seat, receiving with acid suspicion the conversation of the cattleman. What was the "game" of this big "geezer" who was carrying him off? Altruism56 would have been McGuire's last guess. "He ain't no farmer," thought the captive, "and he ain't no con3 man, for sure. W'at's his lay? You trail in, Cricket, and see how many cards he draws. You're up against it, anyhow. You got a nickel and gallopin' consumption, and you better lay low. Lay low and see w'at's his game."
At Rincon, a hundred miles from San Antonio, they left the train for a buckboard which was waiting there for Raidler. In this they travelled the thirty miles between the station and their destination. If anything could, this drive should have stirred the acrimonious58 McGuire to a sense of his ransom59. They sped upon velvety60 wheels across an exhilarant savanna61. The pair of Spanish ponies struck a nimble, tireless trot62, which gait they occasionally relieved by a wild, untrammelled gallop57. The air was wine and seltzer, perfumed, as they absorbed it, with the delicate redolence of prairie flowers. The road perished, and the buckboard swam the uncharted billows of the grass itself, steered63 by the practised hand of Raidler, to whom each tiny distant mott of trees was a signboard, each convolution of the low hills a voucher65 of course and distance. But McGuire reclined upon his spine66, seeing nothing but a desert, and receiving the cattleman's advances with sullen67 distrust. "W'at's he up to?" was the burden of his thoughts; "w'at kind of a gold brick has the big guy got to sell?" McGuire was only applying the measure of the streets he had walked to a range bounded by the horizon and the fourth dimension.
A week before, while riding the prairies, Raidler had come upon a sick and weakling calf68 deserted69 and bawling70. Without dismounting he had reached and slung71 the distressed bossy72 across his saddle, and dropped it at the ranch for the boys to attend to. It was impossible for McGuire to know or comprehend that, in the eyes of the cattleman, his case and that of the calf were identical in interest and demand upon his assistance. A creature was ill and helpless; he had the power to render aid--these were the only postulates73 required for the cattleman to act. They formed his system of logic74 and the most of his creed75. McGuire was the seventh invalid76 whom Raidler had picked up thus casually77 in San Antonio, where so many thousand go for the ozone78 that is said to linger about its contracted streets. Five of them had been guests of Solito Ranch until they had been able to leave, cured or better, and exhausting the vocabulary of tearful gratitude79. One came too late, but rested very comfortably, at last, under a ratama tree in the garden.
So, then, it was no surprise to the ranchhold when the buckboard spun80 to the door, and Raidler took up his debile protege like a handful of rags and set him down upon the gallery.
McGuire looked upon things strange to him. The ranch-house was the best in the country. It was built of brick hauled one hundred miles by wagon81, but it was of but one story, and its four rooms were completely encircled by a mud floor "gallery." The miscellaneous setting of horses, dogs, saddles, wagons82, guns, and cow-punchers' paraphernalia83 oppressed the metropolitan84 eyes of the wrecked85 sportsman.
"Well, here we are at home," said Raidler, cheeringly.
"It's a h--l of a looking place," said McGuire promptly86, as he rolled upon the gallery floor in a fit of coughing.
"We'll try to make it comfortable for you, buddy," said the cattleman gently. "It ain't fine inside; but it's the outdoors, anyway, that'll do you the most good. This'll be your room, in here. Anything we got, you ask for it."
He led McGuire into the east room. The floor was bare and clean. White curtains waved in the gulf87 breeze through the open windows. A big willow88 rocker, two straight chairs, a long table covered with newspapers, pipes, tobacco, spurs, and cartridges89 stood in the centre. Some well-mounted heads of deer and one of an enormous black javeli projected from the walls. A wide, cool cot-bed stood in a corner. Nueces County people regarded this guest chamber90 as fit for a prince. McGuire showed his eyeteeth at it. He took out his nickel and spun it up to the ceiling.
"T'ought I was lyin' about the money, did ye? Well, you can frisk me if you wanter. Dat's the last simoleon in the treasury91. Who's goin' to pay?"
The cattleman's clear grey eyes looked steadily92 from under his grizzly93 brows into the huckleberry optics of his guest. After a little he said simply, and not ungraciously, "I'll be much obliged to you, son, if you won't mention money any more. Once was quite a plenty. Folks I ask to my ranch don't have to pay anything, and they very scarcely ever offers it. Supper'll be ready in half an hour. There's water in the pitcher94, and some, cooler, to drink, in that red jar hanging on the gallery."
"Where's the bell?" asked McGuire, looking about.
"Bell for what?"
"Bell to ring for things. I can't--see here," he exploded in a sudden, weak fury, "I never asked you to bring me here. I never held you up for a cent. I never gave you a hard-luck story till you asked me. Here I am fifty miles from a bellboy or a cocktail95. I'm sick. I can't hustle96. Gee55! but I'm up against it!" McGuire fell upon the cot and sobbed97 shiveringly.
Raidler went to the door and called. A slender, bright-complexioned Mexican youth about twenty came quickly. Raidler spoke to him in Spanish.
"Ylario, it is in my mind that I promised you the position of vaquero on the San Carlos range at the fall rodeo."
"Si, senor, such was your goodness."
"Listen. This senorito is my friend. He is very sick. Place yourself at his side. Attend to his wants at all times. Have much patience and care with him. And when he is well, or--and when he is well, instead of vaquero I will make you mayordomo of the Rancho de las Piedras. Esta bueno?"
"Si, si--mil gracias, senor." Ylario tried to kneel upon the floor in his gratitude, but the cattleman kicked at him benevolently98, growling99, "None of your opery-house antics, now."
Ten minutes later Ylario came from McGuire's room and stood before Raidler.
"The little senor," he announced, "presents his compliments" (Raidler credited Ylario with the preliminary) "and desires some pounded ice, one hot bath, one gin feez-z, that the windows be all closed, toast, one shave, one Newyorkheral', cigarettes, and to send one telegram."
Raidler took a quart bottle of whisky from his medicine cabinet. "Here, take him this," he said.
Thus was instituted the reign100 of terror at the Solito Ranch. For a few weeks McGuire blustered101 and boasted and swaggered before the cow- punchers who rode in for miles around to see this latest importation of Raidler's. He was an absolutely new experience to them. He explained to them all the intricate points of sparring and the tricks of training and defence. He opened to their minds' view all the indecorous life of a tagger after professional sports. His jargon102 of slang was a continuous joy and surprise to them. His gestures, his strange poses, his frank ribaldry of tongue and principle fascinated them. He was like a being from a new world.
Strange to say, this new world he had entered did not exist to him. He was an utter egoist of bricks and mortar103. He had dropped out, he felt, into open space for a time, and all it contained was an audience for his reminiscences. Neither the limitless freedom of the prairie days nor the grand hush104 of the close-drawn105, spangled nights touched him. All the hues106 of Aurora107 could not win him from the pink pages of a sporting journal. "Get something for nothing," was his mission in life; "Thirty-seventh" Street was his goal.
Nearly two months after his arrival he began to complain that he felt worse. It was then that he became the ranch's incubus108, its harpy, its Old Man of the Sea. He shut himself in his room like some venomous kobold or flibbertigibbet, whining109, complaining, cursing, accusing. The keynote of his plaint was that he had been inveigled110 into a gehenna against his will; that he was dying of neglect and lack of comforts. With all his dire42 protestations of increasing illness, to the eye of others he remained unchanged. His currant-like eyes were as bright and diabolic as ever; his voice was as rasping; his callous111 face, with the skin drawn tense as a drum-head, had no flesh to lose. A flush on his prominent cheek bones each afternoon hinted that a clinical thermometer might have revealed a symptom, and percussion112 might have established the fact that McGuire was breathing with only one lung, but his appearance remained the same.
In constant attendance upon him was Ylario, whom the coming reward of the mayordomoship must have greatly stimulated113, for McGuire chained him to a bitter existence. The air--the man's only chance for life--he commanded to be kept out by closed windows and drawn curtains. The room was always blue and foul114 with cigarette smoke; whosoever entered it must sit, suffocating115, and listen to the imp's interminable gasconade concerning his scandalous career.
The oddest thing of all was the relation existing between McGuire and his benefactor116. The attitude of the invalid toward the cattleman was something like that of a peevish117, perverse118 child toward an indulgent parent. When Raidler would leave the ranch McGuire would fall into a fit of malevolent119, silent sullenness120. When he returned, he would be met by a string of violent and stinging reproaches. Raidler's attitude toward his charge was quite inexplicable121 in its way. The cattleman seemed actually to assume and feel the character assigned to him by McGuire's intemperate122 accusations--the character of tyrant123 and guilty oppressor. He seemed to have adopted the responsibility of the fellow's condition, and he always met his tirades124 with a pacific, patient, and even remorseful125 kindness that never altered.
One day Raidler said to him, "Try more air, son. You can have the buckboard and a driver every day if you'll go. Try a week or two in one of the cow camps. I'll fix you up plumb126 comfortable. The ground, and the air next to it--them's the things to cure you. I knowed a man from Philadelphy, sicker than you are, got lost on the Guadalupe, and slept on the bare grass in sheep camps for two weeks. Well, sir, it started him getting well, which he done. Close to the ground--that's where the medicine in the air stays. Try a little hossback riding now. There's a gentle pony127--"
"What've I done to yer?" screamed McGuire. "Did I ever doublecross yer? Did I ask you to bring me here? Drive me out to your camps if you wanter; or stick a knife in me and save trouble. Ride! I can't lift my feet. I couldn't sidestep a jab from a five-year-old kid. That's what your d--d ranch has done for me. There's nothing to eat, nothing to see, and nobody to talk to but a lot of Reubens who don't know a punching bag from a lobster128 salad."
"It's a lonesome place, for certain," apologised Raidler abashedly. "We got plenty, but it's rough enough. Anything you think of you want, the boys'll ride up and fetch it down for you."
It was Chad Murchison, a cow-puncher from the Circle Bar outfit129, who first suggested that McGuire's illness was fraudulent. Chad had brought a basket of grapes for him thirty miles, and four out of his way, tied to his saddle-horn. After remaining in the smoke-tainted room for a while, he emerged and bluntly confided130 his suspicions to Raidler.
"His arm," said Chad, "is harder'n a diamond. He interduced me to what he called a shore-perplexus punch, and 'twas like being kicked twice by a mustang. He's playin' it low down on you, Curt10. He ain't no sicker'n I am. I hate to say it, but the runt's workin' you for range and shelter."
The cattleman's ingenuous131 mind refused to entertain Chad's view of the case, and when, later, he came to apply the test, doubt entered not into his motives132.
One day, about noon, two men drove up to the ranch, alighted, hitched133, and came in to dinner; standing43 and general invitations being the custom of the country. One of them was a great San Antonio doctor, whose costly134 services had been engaged by a wealthy cowman who had been laid low by an accidental bullet. He was now being driven back to the station to take the train back to town. After dinner Raidler took him aside, pushed a twenty-dollar bill against his hand, and said:
"Doc, there's a young chap in that room I guess has got a bad case of consumption. I'd like for you to look him over and see just how bad he is, and if we can do anything for him."
"How much was that dinner I just ate, Mr. Raidler?" said the doctor bluffly135, looking over his spectacles. Raidler returned the money to his pocket. The doctor immediately entered McGuire's room, and the cattleman seated himself upon a heap of saddles on the gallery, ready to reproach himself in the event the verdict should be unfavourable.
In ten minutes the doctor came briskly out. "Your man," he said promptly, "is as sound as a new dollar. His lungs are better than mine. Respiration137, temperature, and pulse normal. Chest expansion four inches. Not a sign of weakness anywhere. Of course I didn't examine for the bacillus, but it isn't there. You can put my name to the diagnosis138. Even cigarettes and a vilely139 close room haven't hurt him. Coughs, does he? Well, you tell him it isn't necessary. You asked if there is anything we could do for him. Well, I advise you to set him digging post-holes or breaking mustangs. There's our team ready. Good- day, sir." And like a puff140 of wholesome141, blustery wind the doctor was off.
Raidler reached out and plucked a leaf from a mesquite bush by the railing, and began chewing it thoughtfully.
The branding season was at hand, and the next morning Ross Hargis, foreman of the outfit, was mustering142 his force of some twenty-five men at the ranch, ready to start for the San Carlos range, where the work was to begin. By six o'clock the horses were all saddled, the grub wagon ready, and the cow-punchers were swinging themselves upon their mounts, when Raidler bade them wait. A boy was bringing up an extra pony, bridled143 and saddled, to the gate. Raidler walked to McGuire's room and threw open the door. McGuire was lying on his cot, not yet dressed, smoking.
"Get up," said the cattleman, and his voice was clear and brassy, like a bugle144.
"How's that?" asked McGuire, a little startled.
"Get up and dress. I can stand a rattlesnake, but I hate a liar9. Do I have to tell you again?" He caught McGuire by the neck and stood him on the floor.
"Say, friend," cried McGuire wildly, "are you bug-house? I'm sick-- see? I'll croak30 if I got to hustle. What've I done to yer?"--he began his chronic1 whine--"I never asked yer to--"
"Put on your clothes," called Raidler in a rising tone.
Swearing, stumbling, shivering, keeping his amazed, shining eyes upon the now menacing form of the aroused cattleman, McGuire managed to tumble into his clothes. Then Raidler took him by the collar and shoved him out and across the yard to the extra pony hitched at the gate. The cow-punchers lolled in their saddles, open-mouthed.
"Take this man," said Raidler to Ross Hargis, "and put him to work. Make him work hard, sleep hard, and eat hard. You boys know I done what I could for him, and he was welcome. Yesterday the best doctor in San Antone examined him, and says he's got the lungs of a burro and the constitution of a steer64. You know what to do with him, Ross."
Ross Hargis only smiled grimly.
"Aw," said McGuire, looking intently at Raidler, with a peculiar145 expression upon his face, "the croaker said I was all right, did he? Said I was fakin', did he? You put him onto me. You t'ought I wasn't sick. You said I was a liar. Say, friend, I talked rough, I know, but I didn't mean most of it. If you felt like I did--aw! I forgot--I ain't sick, the croaker says. Well, friend, now I'll go work for yer. Here's where you play even."
He sprang into the saddle easily as a bird, got the quirt from the horn, and gave his pony a slash146 with it. "Cricket," who once brought in Good Boy by a neck at Hawthorne--and a 10 to 1 shot--had his foot in the stirrups again.
McGuire led the cavalcade147 as they dashed away for San Carlos, and the cow-punchers gave a yell of applause as they closed in behind his dust.
But in less than a mile he had lagged to the rear, and was last man when they struck the patch of high chaparral below the horse pens. Behind a clump148 of this he drew rein149, and held a handkerchief to his mouth. He took it away drenched150 with bright, arterial blood, and threw it carefully into a clump of prickly pear. Then he slashed151 with his quirt again, gasped152 "G'wan" to his astonished pony, and galloped153 after the gang.
That night Raidler received a message from his old home in Alabama. There had been a death in the family; an estate was to divide, and they called for him to come. Daylight found him in the buckboard, skimming the prairies for the station. It was two months before he returned. When he arrived at the ranch house he found it well-nigh deserted save for Ylario, who acted as a kind of steward154 during his absence. Little by little the youth made him acquainted with the work done while he was away. The branding camp, he was informed, was still doing business. On account of many severe storms the cattle had been badly scattered155, and the branding had been accomplished156 but slowly. The camp was now in the valley of the Guadalupe, twenty miles away.
"By the way," said Raidler, suddenly remembering, "that fellow I sent along with them--McGuire--is he working yet?"
"I do not know," said Ylario. "Mans from the camp come verree few times to the ranch. So plentee work with the leetle calves157. They no say. Oh, I think that fellow McGuire he dead much time ago."
"Dead!" said Raidler. "What you talking about?"
"Verree sick fellow, McGuire," replied Ylario, with a shrug158 of his shoulder. "I theenk he no live one, two month when he go away."
"Shucks!" said Raidler. "He humbugged you, too, did he? The doctor examined him and said he was sound as a mesquite knot."
"That doctor," said Ylario, smiling, "he tell you so? That doctor no see McGuire."
"Talk up," ordered Raidler. "What the devil do you mean?"
"McGuire," continued the boy tranquilly159, "he getting drink water outside when that doctor come in room. That doctor take me and pound me all over here with his fingers"--putting his hand to his chest--"I not know for what. He put his ear here and here and here, and listen-- I not know for what. He put little glass stick in my mouth. He feel my arm here. He make me count like whisper--so--twenty, treinta, cuarenta. Who knows," concluded Ylario, with a deprecating spread of his hands, "for what that doctor do those verree droll160 and such-like things?"
"What horses are up?" asked Raidler shortly.
"Paisano is grazing out behind the little corral, senor."
"Saddle him for me at once."
Within a very few minutes the cattleman was mounted and away. Paisano, well named after that ungainly but swift-running bird, struck into his long lope that ate up the ground like a strip of macaroni. In two hours and a quarter Raidler, from a gentle swell161, saw the branding camp by a water hole in the Guadalupe. Sick with expectancy162 of the news he feared, he rode up, dismounted, and dropped Paisano's reins163. So gentle was his heart that at that moment he would have pleaded guilty to the murder of McGuire.
The only being in the camp was the cook, who was just arranging the hunks of barbecued beef, and distributing the tin coffee cups for supper. Raidler evaded164 a direct question concerning the one subject in his mind.
"Everything all right in camp, Pete?" he managed to inquire.
"So, so," said Pete, conservatively. "Grub give out twice. Wind scattered the cattle, and we've had to rake the brush for forty mile. I need a new coffee-pot. And the mosquitos is some more hellish than common."
"The boys--all well?"
Pete was no optimist165. Besides, inquiries166 concerning the health of cow- punchers were not only superfluous167, but bordered on flaccidity. It was not like the boss to make them.
"What's left of 'em don't miss no calls to grub," the cook conceded.
"What's left of 'em?" repeated Raidler in a husky voice. Mechanically he began to look around for McGuire's grave. He had in his mind a white slab168 such as he had seen in the Alabama church-yard. But immediately he knew that was foolish.
"Sure," said Pete; "what's left. Cow camps change in two months. Some's gone."
Raidler nerved himself.
"That--chap--I sent along--McGuire--did--he--"
"Say," interrupted Pete, rising with a chunk169 of corn bread in each hand, "that was a dirty shame, sending that poor, sick kid to a cow camp. A doctor that couldn't tell he was graveyard170 meat ought to be skinned with a cinch buckle171. Game as he was, too--it's a scandal among snakes--lemme tell you what he done. First night in camp the boys started to initiate172 him in the leather breeches degree. Ross Hargis busted173 him one swipe with his chaparreras, and what do you reckon the poor child did? Got up, the little skeeter, and licked Ross. Licked Ross Hargis. Licked him good. Hit him plenty and everywhere and hard. Ross'd just get up and pick out a fresh place to lay down on agin.
"Then that McGuire goes off there and lays down with his head in the grass and bleeds. A hem'ridge they calls it. He lays there eighteen hours by the watch, and they can't budge174 him. Then Ross Hargis, who loves any man who can lick him, goes to work and damns the doctors from Greenland to Poland Chiny; and him and Green Branch Johnson they gets McGuire into a tent, and spells each other feedin' him chopped raw meat and whisky.
"But it looks like the kid ain't got no appetite to git well, for they misses him from the tent in the night and finds him rootin' in the grass, and likewise a drizzle175 fallin'. 'G'wan,' he says, 'lemme go and die like I wanter. He said I was a liar and a fake and I was playin' sick. Lemme alone.'
"Two weeks," went on the cook, "he laid around, not noticin' nobody, and then--"
A sudden thunder filled the air, and a score of galloping176 centaurs177 crashed through the brush into camp.
"Illustrious rattlesnakes!" exclaimed Pete, springing all ways at once; "here's the boys come, and I'm an assassinated178 man if supper ain't ready in three minutes."
But Raidler saw only one thing. A little, brown-faced, grinning chap, springing from his saddle in the full light of the fire. McGuire was not like that, and yet--
In another instant the cattleman was holding him by the hand and shoulder.
"Son, son, how goes it?" was all he found to say.
"Close to the ground, says you," shouted McGuire, crunching179 Raidler's fingers in a grip of steel; "and dat's where I found it--healt' and strengt', and tumbled to what a cheap skate I been actin'. T'anks fer kickin' me out, old man. And--say! de joke's on dat croaker, ain't it? I looked t'rough the window and see him playin' tag on dat Dago kid's solar plexus."
"You son of a tinker," growled180 the cattleman, "whyn't you talk up and say the doctor never examined you?"
"Ah--g'wan!" said McGuire, with a flash of his old asperity181, "nobody can't bluff136 me. You never ast me. You made your spiel, and you t'rowed me out, and I let it go at dat. And, say, friend, dis chasin' cows is outer sight. Dis is de whitest bunch of sports I ever travelled with. You'll let me stay, won't yer, old man?"
Raidler looked wonderingly toward Ross Hargis.
"That cussed little runt," remarked Ross tenderly, "is the Jo-dartin'est hustler--and the hardest hitter in anybody's cow camp."
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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divested
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| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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5
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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6
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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7
depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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8
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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9
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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10
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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11
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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12
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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13
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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14
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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15
tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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16
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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17
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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18
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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19
pugnaciously
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20
imputation
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| n.归罪，责难 | |
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21
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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22
thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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23
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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24
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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25
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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26
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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27
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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28
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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29
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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30
croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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31
foist
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| vt.把…强塞给，骗卖给 | |
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32
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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33
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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34
maverick
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| adj.特立独行的；不遵守传统的；n.持异议者，自行其是者 | |
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35
mimicked
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的过去式和过去分词 )；酷似 | |
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36
bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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37
dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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38
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
interrogated
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| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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40
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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41
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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42
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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43
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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44
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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45
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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46
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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47
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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48
portrayal
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| n.饰演；描画 | |
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49
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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50
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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51
inundation
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| n.the act or fact of overflowing | |
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52
ranches
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| 大农场， （兼种果树，养鸡等的）大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
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53
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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54
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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55
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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56
altruism
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| n.利他主义，不自私 | |
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57
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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58
acrimonious
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| adj.严厉的，辛辣的，刻毒的 | |
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59
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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60
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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61
savanna
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| n.大草原 | |
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62
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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63
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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64
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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65
voucher
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| n.收据；传票；凭单，凭证 | |
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66
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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67
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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68
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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69
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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70
bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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71
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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72
bossy
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| adj.爱发号施令的，作威作福的 | |
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73
postulates
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| v.假定，假设( postulate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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74
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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75
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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76
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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77
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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78
ozone
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| n.臭氧，新鲜空气 | |
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79
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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80
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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81
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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82
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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83
paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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84
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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85
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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86
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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87
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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88
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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89
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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90
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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91
treasury
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| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
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92
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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93
grizzly
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| adj.略为灰色的，呈灰色的；n.灰色大熊 | |
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94
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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95
cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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96
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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97
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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98
benevolently
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| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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99
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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100
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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101
blustered
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| v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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102
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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103
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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104
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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105
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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106
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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107
aurora
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| n.极光 | |
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108
incubus
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| n.负担；恶梦 | |
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109
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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110
inveigled
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| v.诱骗，引诱( inveigle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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112
percussion
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| n.打击乐器；冲突，撞击；震动，音响 | |
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113
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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114
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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115
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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116
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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117
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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118
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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119
malevolent
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| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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120
sullenness
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| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
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121
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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122
intemperate
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| adj.无节制的，放纵的 | |
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123
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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124
tirades
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| 激烈的长篇指责或演说( tirade的名词复数 ) | |
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125
remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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126
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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127
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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128
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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129
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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130
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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131
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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132
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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133
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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134
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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135
bluffly
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| 率直地，粗率地 | |
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136
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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137
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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138
diagnosis
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| n.诊断，诊断结果，调查分析，判断 | |
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139
vilely
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| adv.讨厌地，卑劣地 | |
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140
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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141
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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142
mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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143
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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144
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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145
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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146
slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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147
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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148
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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149
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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150
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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151
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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152
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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153
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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154
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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155
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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156
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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157
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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158
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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159
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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160
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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161
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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162
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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163
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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164
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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165
optimist
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| n.乐观的人，乐观主义者 | |
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166
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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167
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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168
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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169
chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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170
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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171
buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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172
initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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173
busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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174
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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175
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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176
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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177
centaurs
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| n.（希腊神话中）半人半马怪物( centaur的名词复数 ) | |
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178
assassinated
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| v.暗杀( assassinate的过去式和过去分词 )；中伤；诋毁；破坏 | |
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179
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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180
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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181
asperity
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| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
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