Ernest Haycox - The Greatest Westerns of Ernest Haycox

By the time he reached the Henry place he had smoothed every wrinkle of his plan, making note of little points here and there that would appeal to the Judge's inordinate vanity. And when he tied his horse to the corral and mounted the porch he summoned all his affability and humor. The judge, he found, was rocking himself on the porch, half shrouded in the settling dusk.

"Howdy, Judge Henry," he said, stressing the title. "You see a weary man before you that's traveled a mighty hot road just to make a particular call. Hope you bear this heat better than I do."

The judge, instantly flattered by the visit, pursed his lips and motioned to an adjoining chair. "Hem. Sit down. Not going any farther tonight, are you? Well, you'll have supper with us. A particular visit, you say?"

"Let's go into your office," Lcstrade suggested.

Judge Henry rose with alacrity. At the screen door Lestrade met Gracie and drew off his hat, all smiles. "Miss Gracie, your dad asked me to supper and I sure hope you'll second the motion."

"Good evening, sir. We'll be mighty glad to have you, providing you won't mind the cooking."

Lestrade looked down at the red hair, shimmering now under the hall light. His heavy lids drooped. "Gracie, I'd feel honored to eat it the rest of my born days. Judge, your girl's getting pretty enough to steal. You want to watch out."

"Well," the judge said, "there's some that I got an eye on. A man that's an ordinary vagrant can't marry my daughter."

Lestrade's body shook with a kind of internal laughter. He touched Gracie's shoulder with a finger, but at the sight of her eyes, he suddenly drew the finger away.

"Guess I better not be so shiftless then. Might want to throw my hat in the ring if I drought there was a chance."

The two men passed down the hall, and presently shut themselves in the judge's office. Gracie stood silent, her face turned toward the door. She had come out of the kitchen at the first sound of the visitor, thinking it was Lin Ballou. Lestrade had received her welcoming smile quite under false pretenses, for it certainly had not been meant for him.

What does he want with my father? she asked herself, the worry creeping into her forehead. What would any cattleman want from a homesteader? He may flatter poor Dad, but I see through that fine talk. And he'd better keep his fat old hands away from me.

There was a whistle from the corral. She went eagerly through the screen to meet Lin.

"Hope I ain't late," he apologized, "but I had to do a little currying and brushing. Fellow like me is under an awful handicap. Nature did such a blame poor job that it takes a lot of bear oil and harness grease to piece out. Anyhow, I guess you can recognize me."

"Lin," she said plaintively, "I wish you wouldn't always low- grade yourself. Why, I think you're good looking—"

"Now, Gracie, you be careful. You're a lot too young to start in on perjury."

"Lin, you come out to the kitchen with me while I dish up. Dad, he's got company. Mr. Lestrade came on some errand and they're in the office. I know I shouldn t be fussing about such things, but this worries me. Why should a cattleman have business with a homesteader?"

She looked up to see his expression. Lin was staring down the hall.

"Can't tell," he replied. "Lestrade's got an iron in 'most every fire."

Her fingers went up to a button of his coat. "You're thinking something else," she said. "Whenever you assume that poker face, I know there's solemn thoughts behind it. But what if he has got an iron in every fire? There's no fire here."

"Yes, there is. Gracie, you're the fire."

"Lin, how you talk! Mr. Lestrade wouldn't spend any time on me."

"No?" Lin said. "He'd be crazy if he didn't."

"Hush." She led him into the kitchen and ordered him around so fast he had little time to talk. But when the pie came out of the pantry and was placed on the table, he grinned from ear to ear.

"Gal, you know how to flatter a man's stomach. I've got a notion—"

The notion, whatever its nature, was interrupted. The office door opened and the judge, followed by Lestrade, came into the dining room. The judge had a glum, owlish look for Lin which the young man answered with a cheerful grin. Lestrade spoke jovially to him, though he passed one swift appraising glance to the girl first.

"Howdy, Lin, howdy. Ain't seen you for a small coon's age. What keeps you away from the town these days?"

"Prospecting," the judge said ironically. "Sit down, Mr. Lestrade, and eat. Pass the meat and gravy, Gracie. Hem. Guess you never believed me when I said we'd get water some day, did you, young man? Well, I'm old enough, I hope, to know better. We're going to have water in this valley and we're going to have it soon. How's that sound to your intelligence?"

The man was inflated with importance. He pursed his lips in all manner of shapes, his shoulders thrown back and his pudgy body as straight as a ramrod. Lestrade beamed at him, which caused Lin to make a thoughtful reservation.

"Of course there was an iron in the fire," he said to himself. "Maybe two of 'em." Aloud he asked, "Where's this water coming from, up or down?"

"It's coming," the judge announced, "from Lake Esprit, and it'll be brought by a main ditch right into the valley. Mr. Lestrade and I have come to several important conclusions which the settlers will agree with as soon as I call a meeting. If you should like to know more —though from the foolishness in your head I'm not sure you would—I might say it will be a cooperative concern, headed by myself and Mr. Lestrade."

"Oh," Lin said, and for a moment he forgot the company and the food. His mind raced back and forth, all the while filling with suspicion. "Who's to supply the money?"

"The stockholders. In other words, the settlers."

Lin pushed his plate back and spoke with a sudden vehemence that surprised them all. "You mean to tell me you're rushing into a private irrigation system when none of you knows beans about it? How much money do you think this valley holds, anyhow? It will cost a pile and don't you forget it. Mr. Lestrade, if this is your suggestion, I sure don't think much of it."

Lestrade was annoyed and showed it. But a lifelong training in suavity came to his rescue. "You understand, of course, that as soon as news of the project gets abroad, the whole valley will fill with prospective landowners and they'll take up their part of the burden."

"Maybe they will, and maybe they won't," Lin said. "Seems like there's a lot of guesswork in that. And when you build water ditches you don't want to do any guessing."

"As for that," Lestrade said, "I've already had an engineer estimate the cost. I'm afraid, Lin, that you're a little shortsighted on this water situation. I think the settlers have more faith than you've got."

"That's the point," Lin said. "They've got water on the brain and they'll rush into all sorts of foolish things."

"Let them judge whether it's foolish or not," Judge Henry shouted. His pride had been sadly punctured by Ballou's questioning of his judgment and he viewed the young man with increased dislike.

"They can judge all they please," Lin said, '"but not before I've done a little campaigning myself. I don't like the notion and I'll tell them why."

"Why should you concern yourself?" Lestrade said sharply.

Lin looked the big man directly in the face. "Mr. Lestrade, I was born and raised hereabouts and I've seen a heap of suffering from this dry-land farming. Maybe I'm a fool, but I can't stand by and see all these folks rush into crazy ideas. They're my kind of people, that's why."

Gracie, who had been listening with troubled eyes, broke in. "No more, you folks. I'll not have my supper spoiled this way. Stop your arguing."

And so the meal ended in a truce. The men retired to the porch while Gracie prepared for the dance. Judge Henry became so interested in his talk with Lestrade that he forgot about hitching up and had to be sent to the job by his daughter after she was ready.