The Washington herald., 1920-11-16

ID bottle, and got it. whenever
Baidy went for anything he
usuaiIy--but this is not Baidy's
story. He poured out a third
drink that was larger by a finger
than the frst and second. Baldy
was in consultation; and the con-
suffice 10 worthy OF his hire.
sT'd be king IL was you" said
Baidy. so positively that his holster
creaked and his spurs ratified.
Webb Yesger pushed back his
nat t-brimmed stetson. and made fur
ther disorder in his straw-colored
hair. The tonsorial recourse being
without avail. lie followed the
LIQUID example OF the more re.
aif a man marries a queen, it
oughtn't TO make him a two-spot."
declared Webb. epitomizing his
grievances.
Sure not" said Baldy. sympa-
thetic, still thirsty. and genuinely
solicitous concerning the relative
value of the cards. BY rights
you're a king. II I was you, I'd
call for a new deal The cards
have been stacked on you-I'll tell
"what?" asked Webb, with a
hopeful look in his pale-blue eyes.
You're a prince-consort"
Go easy" said Webb. Il never
blackgusrded you none"
It's a title" explained Baidy. up
among the picture-cards but IL don't
take no tricks. I'll tell you, Webb.
It's a brand they've got for certain
animals in Europe. Say that you
or me or one Of them Dutch dukes
married in a royal family. Well. by
and by our wife gets to be queen.
Are we king? Not in a million
years. At the coronation cere-
monies we march between little
casino and the Ninth Grand Cus-
todian of the Royal Hall Bedcham-
ber. The only use We are is to ap-
pear in photographs, and accept the
responsibility for the heir-apparent.
That ain any square deal. Yes. SIR,
Webb. you're a prince-consort and IL
was you. I'd start a interregnum
or a habeas corpus or somethin':
and I'd be king IL I had to turn
from the bottom of the deck"
Bsldy emptied his glass to the
ratification of his Warwick pose.
'Baldy." said Webb. solemnly.
me and you punched cows in the
same outfit for years. We been
runnin' on the same range. and
ridin' the same trails since we was
boys. / wouldn't talk about my
family affairs to nobody but you.
You was line-rider On the Nopalito
Ranch when ! married Santa Nc
Allister. ] was foreman then: but
what am ] now? / don't amount TO
a knot in a stake rope"
when old McAllister was the
cattle king of West Texas" con-
tinued Badly with Satanic sweet
ness. you was some tallow. You
had as much TO say on the ranch
as he did"
II did" admitted Webb. up to
the time he found out I was tryin'
to get my rope over Santa's head.
Then he kept me out ON the range
as far from the ranch-house as he
could. When the old man died they
commenced 10 call Santa the cattle
queen I'm boss of the cattle
that's all. She tens to all the busi-
! ness: she handles all the money; 1
can't even sell a beef-steer to a
party of campers. myself Santa's
the queen and I'm Mr.. Nobody"
I'D be king il I was you" re-
peated Baldy Woods. the royalist
when a man marries a queen he
ought to grade up with heron
the d-dried-corned-
any old way from the chaparral TO
the packing house. Lots of folks
, thinks it's funny. webb. that you
don't have the say-so on the No
palito. | amt refiectin' none on Miz
| Heager-she's the finest little lady
between the Rio Grande and next
lChristmas-but a man ought to be
boss Of his own camp"
The smooth, brown face of YeaCcr
heightened to a mask of wounded
melancholy. With that expression.
and his humpled yellow hair and
guileless blue eyes. he might have
been likened to a schoolboy whose
! leadership had been usurped by 4
youngster of superior strength. But
his active and sinewy sevcnty-two
1 inches. and his girded revolvers
forbade the comparison.
What was that you called me.
! Baldy7" he asked. What kind of
| a concert was it?''
'consort.'" corrected Baldy-"a
! prince-consort.' It's a kind of
short-csrd pseudonym. You come
in sort of between Jack-high and a
four-csrd flush"
Webb Yeager sighed, and gath
cred the strap of his Winchester
scabbard from the floor.
I'm ridin' back to the ranch to-
day" he said half-heartedly. i've
| got to start a bunch of beeves for
| San Antoine in the morning."
I'm your company as far as Dry
! Lake. announced Baldy. 1--WE got
q roundup camp on the San Mar
/ cos cuttin' out 2-year-olds."
The two companeros mounted their
ponies and trotted away from the
little railroad settlement. where
they had foregathered in the thirsty
morning.
At Dry Lake. where their routes
ldivcrged. they refined up for a part
F. ing cigarette. For miles they had
ridden in silence save for the soft
drum Of the ponies hoofs on the
matted mesquite grass, and the rat
tie Of the chaparral against their
wooden stirrups. But in Texas dis
| course is seldom continuous You
may fill in a miN. n meal. and a
murder between your paragraphs
without detriment to your thesis SO.
without apology, Webb offered an