the bunkhouse, barely visible through the whirling whiteness. Kirby stopped him at the barn door. Shouting above the wind's roar, he called, "Better have a couple of boys put up some safety rope. Probably need them to get around by morning. And if you can make it, come up to the house for chuck."
Josh nodded and, tucking his hat into the front of his coat, ran for the bunkhouse. He fought the wind, quartering toward his objective as if swimming against a heavy current. The two punchers flipped a hand and followed their foreman.
When Kirby stepped into the force of the gale he knew panic as the icy wind took his breath, felt himself being lifted from the ground. He grabbed for the top fence rail and followed it as far as he could. Gathering all his strength, he dashed for the house. As he ran he remembered the stories, all too true, of men caught within a few feet of their doorsteps, unable to make safety. He hurtled into the side of the house with such force that he was knocked back. Edging along the wall, step by step, he made for the door. He felt panic again as he realized that he should have reached it. I've lost my sense of direction, he thought. Spread-eagled against the house, he retraced his steps and knew sick relief when he caught a glimmer of light from the kitchen door.
It took all his strength to hold the door as he opened it and attempted to slide through as small a crack as possible. Snow flurried into the room, and the cook range roared with the furious draft. Maria threw her vast bulk against the wood, and they got it closed.
"I was gettin' awful worried, boy," she told him anxiously. "If you hadn't come soon, Manuel was going to rope himself to the house and make a run for the bunkhouse to see if you were there. Is everyone in?"
"Reckon all the boys are in, Maria. What's for supper?" He sniffed the steamy fragrance in the big kitchen. "As if I cared, long as you cooked it." He caught her in a big hug just as Manuel came into the room.
"Caught, by golly," he groaned. "Go ahead and shoot, Manuel. I'll admit I was hugging your wife." He bowed his head. "I'll take it like a man."
The old man laughed. "Maria shows good taste, Kirby. First me, then you." They all laughed.
"Manuel, you're the weather oracle. How long is this going to last?"
The reply came grimly. "Only two-three times before have I seen such a blizzard so early. They lasted four days. Muddy lost many cows. This is going to be one bad winter."
"Well, let's die with full stomachs. Hope you have plenty chuck in the pantry, Maria. Hate to have to eat up everything tonight."
Her answer was lost in a blast of wind and snow from the door. They helped Josh free the rope from about his waist and shut the door. His face was red, and snow was frozen in his eyelashes, although the trip from the bunkhouse was but a few paces. With typical understatement he said, "This here's a real norther, and gettin' worse all the time. Wouldn't have tried to make it even with a rope and the boys on the other end, except I got news. One of the boys came in from town before the weather broke with some news I knew you'd want to hear."
Once again Kirby felt the chill fingers of premonition. "Bad news?" he asked.
Josh grimaced. "Reckon so. Bill has sold some more cows. Way I figure, he sold about two hundred head more than he should have left out of the split." He stopped as Kirby made an involuntary movement, then went on, "Our boy talked to the buyer. Said they was all recent re-branded. And they're long gone now, shipped out of Galeyville five days ago. Can't check on 'em now, not in this blizzard."
Kirby stared at Josh with unseeing eyes. "Don't guess it'll be necessary. Reckon we know all we need to know." He took a deep breath.
"Soon as the weather breaks, we ride to Lazy B."
"Yeah. Reckon we have to," growled Josh. He watched with real pain in his eyes as Kirby left the kitchen and walked slowly down the hall toward his room, supper forgotten.
CHAPTER