Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1944-03-24
CHAPTER VIII

The Indian Supply Company's
Open A might be among those herds
held up on the south bank by the
high water of the Red River. Or
they may have crossed before the
rains. He wanted to know some
way without his own presence being
known. Unless there had been a
leak, his Cross T had vanished COM
pletely as far as the Open A knew.
Lew slid his horse down the high
riverbank and then on the gravel
shore rode at lope again. Little
side ravines began to cut the red
wall in half an hours riding. He
came to Doan's flatboat ferry tied
up because of the flood. He had
seen no one. He rode on to point
that would bring him up behind the
store and hid his horse in the will
lows.
Noise of the crowd that had gath
cred here floated off the rim. He
walked directly up into it, the wild,
mingled voices of two or three hun
dred restless men spending their
time and money in the only two
ways that Doan's store offered.
Whoever Doan was he didn't
now. This place had been here long
before his first trip up the trail.
As soon as he walked in, even
while his eyes caught little at first
in the dim light, he had a quick
sense of something wrong. The
room was not crowded. Trail men
took their drinks outside. He saw
mostly, among the fifteen or twenty
figures, the blue, yellow-striped uni
forms of the army moving across
the damp clay floor The talk was
low; the smells of tobacco and liq-
uor and oiled leather were right.
Then farther inside he knew. It
was the big Swede's jovial voice he
missed so quickly. Ole Soderlund
wasn't here. He had counted on
Ole. They were friends and they
could talk, and that talk would never
leak out of the Swede's head.
A man he didn't know was on a
high stool behind the counter at the
back of the room. He was small
and wore black suit with a white
shirt, oddly out of place in this
frontier store. Shrewd eyes in a
pinched face were watching him
closely.
He reached the counter. "Soder-
lund gomez"
Only curt nod answered him.
'For good?"
"Sold out"
He could feel a guarded suspicion
behind the shrewd eyes and he Won
dered. Did he look like anything
but another trail hand?
Something you want?"
MAYBE" he said and turned
away, putting aside for now the one
question he had come here to ask.
Tonight's celebration called for a
treat. He found the sardines on a
shelf and took down fourteen cans.
A trail crew always ran short of
tobacco. He spread his rawhide
coat and piled into it with the sar-
dimes a five-pound box of Honey Tip
Twist for the old men who chewed
and a dozen cloth sacks of Dixie
Durham for the smokers.
Three army men stood around an
open cracker barrel. He turned to
one who had a lieutenants gold
bars. What brings you boys so
far SOUTH"
The lieutenant smiled. whisky"
'Well' - he grinned - there's
plenty of it," He looked at the
smooth boyish face and thought the
government never did show much
sense. Like this youngster. A green
West Pointer hardly twenty-five or
three sent out here to cut his milk
teeth on the Indians.
Soberly the lieutenant was saying,
"You're right, there's plenty here.
Too much liquor too close to the res
ervation. I'll warn you. If you're
going north don't load up your wag-
ons with more than you need.
There's a tribe loose. If they cut
your herd for beef don't trade them
whisky instead"
He nodded. II see" What he
saw was reason for the new trad
er's watchfulness. Ole Soderlund
had never traded snake-juice across
the Red. But it could be a good
thing If a man wanted to risk it.
lOOSG dSdlll. lie
asked.
mo, it's the Dakota Cheyennes
They're out on hunting permit aft
er antelope. Six hundred of them.
But antelope are scarce. Trail beef
is a lot easier" The lieutenant
looked stern. Don't ask me for
help if you get caught. You Texans
have got no right crossing the Ma
tons. There's a treaty against
that
Sure, a treaty." This boy was
talking out of a book. did any
Texan sign it? I know. We ought
to drive clean around by way of
the Mississippi" Lew grinned and
started on. mo hard feelings, Bub.
Come and get good meal if you
sight my camp"
The Cheyennes loose were bad