Collection 1988 - Lonigan (v5.0) Read Online Free PDF Page A

you aim to make Ives foreman,” he said, glancing at her. “If you do, why figure to hire a man to take my place.”
    â€œI’d be sorry to lose you, Laredo,” she said sincerely. Then she turned on him. “Well, who would you want for foreman?”
    He grinned. “Why, this new man. Danny would do. The boys like him.”
    â€œOh, no! Not him!” She accepted a cup of coffee and watched Hoey come riding up to the fire. He looked angry and he swung down from the saddle; then he walked over to her.
    â€œLook,” he said, “finding this grass an’ water is a break, but I happen to know there isn’t much of it. You are only halfway to Dodge and have rough country and trouble ahead. There’s no need to make this drive. I’ll buy your herd.”
    â€œYou?” she was startled. “Why?” She looked up at him, puzzled. “For how much?”
    â€œFour dollars a head. Right here and now. In cash.”
    â€œFour dollars?”
She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous! They will bring five times that in Dodge.”
    â€œIf they are fat. If they get there. But what if you lose three or four hundred head?”
    Laredo Lee stood silent, watching Ruth with keen eyes. He wanted to speak, but was wise enough to know it was not the time. This was Ruth Gurney’s problem. A moment later Lee was stifling his grin in the coffee cup.
    â€œNo, Hoey,” she replied calmly, “I’ll not quit now. These cattle started for Dodge and they will go to Dodge. My father never quit a trail drive in his life, and I won’t.”

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    I VES’S FACE HARDENED and grew impatient. “Ruth, you don’t know what you’re gettin’ into! Why, we haven’t hit the hard part yet! There’s Kiowas and Comanches up ahead, and that’s to say nothin’ of the rustlers.”
    â€œBoss,” Lee spoke softly, “Mr. Ives ain’t been over a trail with the G afore. He don’t know how we are.” The blue eyes were deceptively mild now as they looked at Hoey. “The G,” he explained, “figures it’s plumb salty. Why, we welcome a little brush with Indians. As for rustlers, we eat ’em up! The old man,” he added affectionately, “liked a good fight. Last couple of drives he put most of that on Lonigan’s shoulders.”
    â€œWell,” Ives snapped, “Lonigan ain’t here now! If he was,” he sneered so openly that Ruth looked at him in surprise, “he couldn’t do much!”
    â€œMaybe,” a new voice said, “you’re right. Again, maybe you’re not.”
    All turned. Calkins had come up, and several of the other hands, but it was Danny Lonigan who spoke. He stood alone in the middle of a little open space near the wagon, a tall young man, narrow in the hips and wide in the shoulder. He stood with his boots together, one knee slightly bent, his hands busied with rolling a cigarette.
    Hoey Ives stared. Slowly, doubt, dismay, and uncertainty colored his features. “Who’re you?” he demanded.
    â€œWhy, you remember me, Hoey,” Lonigan said quietly, “I whupped the socks off you one time at a dance. That was afore you went away. You were trailin’ with that big Casselman then, an’ figured it made you some tough. You’ll recall it didn’t help you none.”
    Ives’s lips tightened and his eyes grew cold. “So you came back, did you? Well, I’m the boss here now. You work for the G, you work for me.”
    â€œNo,” Lonigan said quietly, “I work for the lady boss. She’s the Circle G, Ives, and from the way she stopped you on that offer to buy her out, I reckon she’ll do to ride the river with. The old man,” he said, “evidently bred true. I’ll ride for her, Ives. Not for you.”
    â€œI reckon that speaks my piece,” Laredo Lee interposed quietly.
    â€œAnd