The Dude Wrangler Part 20

The first intimation Wallie had of what he had let himself in for was when Rufus asked in a confidential tone, as if he were imparting something for Wallie's ear only:

"I wonder if we could get a bite to eat before we start in? We eat so early this morning that I don't feel as if I had had anything."

Wallie had a pan of biscuit which he had intended for dinner but he concealed his reluctance and managed to say with a show of hospitality:

"Come right in; I'll get you something."

"First rate!" declared Mr. Reed with disheartening enthusiasm as Wallie placed the biscuit, b.u.t.ter, and mola.s.ses before him and his helpers.

Wallie hoped never again to see food--his, at least--disappear with such rapidity and in such quant.i.ties. When they had finished there was not a crumb left in the pan to tell what had been, and Rufus added to Wallie's feeling of apprehension by declaring gaily as he polished his mouth on the bandanna which he drew from his hip pocket with a flourish:

"Us Reeds are all hearty eaters. We can eat a sheep at a settin' when we're all together."

Biscuit-making was Wallie's special antipathy, and he now solaced himself with the thought that since they had eaten so many, they would eat less for dinner and he would have plenty of the fresh ones left for supper.

But disappointment was again his portion. Any hope that he might have cherished that once they were well filled up their appet.i.tes would diminish was dissipated by their performance at supper which surpa.s.sed that of dinner. The manner in which the biscuits vanished was nothing less than appalling. In addition to which, he fried ham twice for them when they hinted that they were still hungry after devouring everything before them.

He thought grimly that if their capacity for work was commensurate with their appet.i.tes, the well would be dug in twenty-four hours. But after observing them in "action" through the window he had a notion that he would have considerable more than that of their society.

As they all sprawled on his bunk in a torpor while he washed their supper dishes, he felt not only consternation but a dislike for the Reed family growing within him. Long after they were snoring in their blankets, he lay awake calculating how long his provisions would last at such a rate of depletion.

It did not sound so much of a "sporting proposition" as when Rufus had made his proposal, and Wallie sighed in the darkness as he thought that there seemed a million ways of making mistakes in Wyoming and this already had the earmarks of being one of them.

If they found water at the depth indicated by the divining rod, it might not so much matter, but there was the other contingency confronting him--feeding the Reeds indefinitely! There was nothing to do in the circ.u.mstances but await developments, so Wallie slept finally to dream that he had discarded the table for a trough to which the Reeds came when he went to the door and called: "Soo-ee! Soo-ee!"

The developments, however, were not of an encouraging nature. In addition to a capacity for food which placed the Reeds among the world's marvels they were of a slowness of movement Wallie never had seen equalled. Whenever he looked through the window, it was to see one or the other resting from the exertion of emptying a bucket of dirt or turning the windla.s.s.

The well deepened by inches rather than feet while Wallie sweated, and his suspicion gradually became a conviction as he watched them that they were prolonging the work purposely. It seemed to be in the nature of a vacation for them with just enough exercise to keep them in condition.

His antipathy had become aversion, and Wallie sometimes caught himself with his fork poised in mid air, stopping to hate John, who munched and smacked beside him, or Will, who gobbled at the end of the table, or Rufus, shovelling opposite him. Again, as they came at a trot in response to his dinner call, he visualized himself braining them with the axe as they entered, and found pleasure in the picture.

If hatred generated a poison in the system as a.s.serted, Wallie had a notion that his bite would have been as fatal as a cobra's.

His feeling reached a point where the well became of secondary importance. To find a way to rid himself of the Reed family was in his thoughts constantly, but there seemed nothing to do but endure them somehow until they had sunk the sixty-eight feet, according to the contract, so he went on suffering and cooking with all the grace he could muster.

Yet as the hole deepened he could not help a certain feeling of pride in it. The sense of possession was a strong trait in him, and this was _his_ well on _his_ homestead. He always felt the same pleasant glow of owners.h.i.+p when he looked at his cabin and his fence, even at his dry cow and his locoed horses, and once he had a well with a curb over it!

Wallie always expanded his chest a little as he thought of it.

He made frequent pilgrimages to the well, and as he hung over the edge and called down, Rufus always replied to his inquiry:

"I don't see any indications yet but I look for it to come with a gush when we do strike it."

When they reached sixty-eight feet and there was still no sign of moisture Wallie told Reed that he was willing to abrogate the contract.

"No, sir!" Rufus declared, vigorously. "I've staked my reputation on this well and I'm goin' to keep on diggin'."

At seventy-two feet Wallie was desperate. The hole was still as dry as punk, and boarding the Reeds was nothing less than ruinous; besides, he was nauseated with cooking for three persons whom he detested. They could not be insulted, he discovered, and were determined to make him abide by his contract to board them.

A solution of his problem came in the night with such force and suddenness that he rolled to and fro in his bunk, hugging himself in ecstasy. He longed for morning to put his idea into execution and when it came, for the first time since their arrival, he was delighted to see the Reeds seating themselves at the table.

There were potatoes, bacon, and pancakes, with coffee, for breakfast.

John dubiously eyed the transparent fluid in his cup which might as easily have been tea, and commented:

"You musta left out somethin'."

Will made a wry face after filling it with half a pancake:

"Gos.h.!.+ But you throwed in the sody. They ain't fit fer a dog to eat. I can't go 'em."

With the intention of taking the taste of soda out of his mouth he filled it with potato, and immediately afterward he and John jammed in the doorway as they tried to get through it simultaneously.

Wiping their streaming eyes and gulping water, they said accusingly:

"There's a can of cayenne if there's a pinch in them pertaters!"

"And the bacon's burned to a cracklin'," observed Rufus.

"Perhaps you're getting tired of my cooking?" Wallie suggested, artlessly.

"I'm tired now if this is a spec'min of what you aim to feed us," John declared, suspiciously. "I bleeve you done it on purpose."

Wallie did not deny it.

"I'm holler to the toes and I can't work on an empty stummick," said Will, disgustedly.

Only Rufus went on eating as if it took more than a can of soda and a box of pepper to spoil his food for him and he explained as they wondered at it:

"I ain't no taste sence I had scarlet fever so it don't bother me."

"Ain't you goin' to git us somethin'?" John demanded, finally, seeing Wallie made no move to cook fresh food for them.

"No," Wallie answered, bluntly. "There's nothing in the contract which specifies the manner in which I shall prepare your food for you or the amount of it. Dinner will be worse than breakfast if you want the truth from me."

"I'm quittin'!" the two declared together.

"Now, look here, boys!" the old man expostulated. "We got to finish this job and you know the reason."

"Reason or no reason, I ain't starvin' myself to oblige n.o.body," John declared, vigorously, "and he's got the drop on us about the eatin'."

"Then go--the two of you!" Reed cried, angrily, "I'm goin' to stay--I ain't nothin' to complain of. Him and me," he nodded at Wallie, "can dig that well without ye."

Surly, and without speaking, the boys took their departure.

"They got bad dispositions--they take after their mother," Rufus remarked, looking after them. "With you to work the windla.s.s and empty the bucket we'll make out without them till I pick up another crew somewhere."

"I am willing to accept my loss and quit," Wallie pleaded.