The Desert Fiddler - Part 20
Library

Part 20

The next evening, when Noah Ezekiel came over, Imogene had not gone to her shack.

"Sit down, Noah," she said, "I want to talk to you."

"That's what my maw used to say when I'd been swimmin' on Sunday,"

observed the hill billy as he let his lank form down on the bench.

Imogene laughed. "Well, I'm not going to scold you for breaking the Sabbath or getting your feet wet, or forgetting to shut the gate. What I want, Noah, is to get your opinion."

"It's funny about opinions," remarked Noah impersonally to the stars.

"Somebody is always gettin' your opinion just to see how big a fool you are, and how smart they are."

"Noah Ezekiel Foster," the girl spoke reprovingly. "You know better than that. You know I want your opinion because I think you know more about cotton than I do."

"All right," said Noah, meekly. "Lead on. I got more opinions in my head than Ben Davis' sheep used to have c.o.c.kle burs in their wool."

"What do you think of the Red b.u.t.te Ranch?"

"It's a blamed fine ranch."

"Do you think Mr. Rogeen will make money on it?" She tried to sound disinterested.

"That reminds me," replied Noah, "of Sam Scott. Sam went to Dixion and started a pool hall under Ike Golberg's clothing store. After Sam got it all fixed up with nice green-topped tables and white b.a.l.l.s, and places to spit between shots, he got me down there to look it over.

"'How does she look?' says Sam.

"'She looks all right,' I said.

"'I'm going to get rich,' declares Sam.

"'That all depends' I says, 'on one thing.'

"'What's that?' says Sam.

"'On whuther there is more money comes down them stairs than goes up.'"

Noah twisted his shoulders and again looked up impersonally at the stars.

"You see makin' money is mighty simple. All you got to do is take in more than you pay out. But the d.i.c.kens of it is, losin' it is just as simple--and a durned sight easier."

Imogene was smiling into the dusk, but her thoughts were on serious matters.

"Well, which do you think Mr. Rogeen will do?"

Noah twisted his shoulders again, and shuffled his feet on the ground.

"I always hate to give a plumb out opinion--because it nearly always ruins your reputation as a prophet. But Bob ain't n.o.body's fool. And he's white from his heels to his eyeb.a.l.l.s--everything except his liver."

Imogene laughed, but felt a swelling in the throat. That tribute from the hill bill meant more than the verdict of a court.

"The only trouble is," Noah was speaking a little uneasily himself, "Reedy Jenkins is a skunk and he's got some pizen rats gnawing for him.

There ain't nothin' they won't do--except what they are afraid to.

Bob's got 'em so they don't tie their goats around his shack any more.

But they are going to do him dirt, sure as a tadpole makes a toad.

"Reedy Jenkins has got hold of a lot of money somewhere again; and he's set out to bush Bob, and get away with the pile. I don't know just how he's aimin' to do it; but Reedy don't never have any regrets over what happens to the other fellow if it makes money for him."

The hill billy's words made Imogene more uneasy than before. And yet looking at the lank, droll fellow sitting there in the starlight, she again smiled, and sighed.

"Well, I'm mighty glad Mr. Rogeen has you for a friend," she said aloud.

"A friend," observed Noah, "is sorter like a gun--expensive in town but comfortin' in the country.

"But really I ain't no good, Miss Chandler. As I used to say to my dad, 'if the Lord made me, he must have done it sort of absent mindedly, for he ain't never found no place for me.'"

Imogene arose. She knew this big-hearted, rough hill billy must be tired. She went over and laid her hand lightly on his shoulder and said with a solemn tightening of the throat--"Noah, you are the salt of the earth--and I'd rather have you for a friend than a diamond king."

Noah arose, emotion always made him uncomfortable, and shuffled off to his tent without a word.

But he turned at the entrance to the tent, and looked back. The girl sat quite still, her face turned up toward the stars.

"Well," said Noah to himself, "she's got me all right."

On the fourteenth of June Bob Rogeen and Noah Ezekiel Foster rode through the Red b.u.t.te Ranch.

The fields lay before them checkered off into squares by the irrigation ditches, level as a table. The long rows of cotton were five to ten inches high, and of a dark green colour. The stand on most of the fields was almost perfect. One Chinaman with a span of mules cultivated fifty acres.

"Lou Wing is a great farmer," continued Bob, enthusiastically. "He is doing the work for 45 per cent. of the crop. I pay the water and the rent; and of course I have to advance him the money to feed and pay his hands. He has twenty partners with a separate camp for each; and each partner has four Chinamen working for him. That is system, Noah. It certainly looks like riches, doesn't it?"

"All flesh is gra.s.s," Noah sighed lugubriously, "except some that's weeds."

"Cotton is going up every day," said Bob. "It was nine cents and a fraction yesterday."

"That means," remarked Noah Ezekiel, "Reedy Jenkins could sell them eight thousand bales he's got stacked up on this side and pay all his debts and have twenty thousand over."

"But Reedy is not paying his debts."

"Not yet," said Noah; "he is borrowin' more money."

"Is that so?" Bob was sharply interested. He had not feared Reedy much while he was out of funds. "When did you hear that?"

"Sat.u.r.day night," replied Noah. "You can gather a whole lot more information round the Red Owl than you can moss."

"I wonder what he is going to do with it?" Bob's mind was still on Reedy Jenkins.

"He's done done with it," answered Noah. "He's bought the Dillenbeck irrigation system."

Instantly all exuberant desire to shout went from Bob's throat and a chill ran along his veins. In a twinkling the heat of the friendly sun upon those wide green fields with their fingered network of a hundred water ditches became a threat and a menace. After all, by what a narrow thread does security hang!