After the departure of the train, I did not take any notice of the return of the boys to the abandoned gamed, or the influx of patrons to the house, until some one laid a hand on my shoulder and quietly said, "Isn't your name Quirk?"Turning to the speaker, I was confronted by Mr.Field and Mr.
Radcliff, who had just arrived by train from the west.Admitting my identity, I invited them to have a cigar or liquid refreshment, inquiring whence they had come and where their cattle were.To my surprise, Fort Keogh was named as their last refuge, and the herds were reported to cross the railroad within the next few days.Similar questions were asked me, but before replying, I caught Sponsilier's eye and summoned him with a wink.
On Dave's presenting himself, I innocently asked the pair if they did not remember my friend as one of the men whom they had under arrest at Dodge.They grunted an embarrassed acknowledgment, which was returned in the same coin, when I proceeded to inform them that our cattle crossed the railroad at Little Missouri ten days before, and that we were only waiting the return of Mr.
Lovell from the Crow Agency before proceeding to our destination.
With true Yankee inquisitiveness, other questions followed, the trend of which was to get us to admit that we had something to do with the present activities in quarantining Texas cattle.But Iavoided their leading queries, and looked appealingly at Sponsilier, who came to my rescue with an answer born of the moment.
"Well, gentlemen," said Dave, seating himself on the bar and leisurely rolling a cigarette, "that town of Little Missouri is about the dullest hole that I was ever water-bound in.Honestly, I'd rather be with the cattle than loafing in it with money in my pocket.Now this town has got some get-up about it; I'll kiss a man's foot if he complains that this burg isn't sporty enough for his blood.They've given me a run here for my white alley, and Istill think I know something about that game called draw-poker.
But you were speaking about quarantine.Yes; there seems to have been a good many cattle lost through these parts last fall.You ought to have sent your herds up through Dakota, where there is no native stock to interfere.I'd hate to have cattle coming down the Powder River.A friend of mine passed through here yesterday;his herd was sold for delivery on the Elkhorn, north of here, and he tells me he may not be able to reach there before October.He saw your herds and tells me you are driving the guts out of them.
So if there's anything in that old 'ship-fever theory,' you ought to be quarantined until it snows.There's a right smart talk around here of fixing a dead-line below somewhere, and if you get tied up before reaching the railroad, it won't surprise me a little bit.When it comes to handling the cattle, old man Don has the good hard cow-sense every time, but you shorthorns give me a pain.""What did I tell you?" said Radcliff, the elder one said to his partner, as they turned to leave.
On nearing the door, Mr.Field halted and begrudgingly said, "See you later, Quirk.""Not if I see you first," I replied; "you ain't my kind of cowmen."Not even waiting for them to pass outside, Sponsilier, from his elevated position, called every one to the bar to irrigate.The boys quit their games, and as they lined up in a double row, Dave begged the bartenders to bestir themselves, and said to his guests: "Those are the kid-gloved cowmen that I've been telling you about--the owners of the Texas cattle that are coming through here.Did I hang it on them artistically, or shall I call them back and smear it on a shade deeper? They smelt a mouse all right, and when their cattle reach Cabin Creek, they'll smell the rat in earnest.Now, set out the little and big bottle and everybody have a cigar on the side.And drink hearty, lads, for to-morrow we may be drinking branch water in a quarantine camp."The arrival of Field and Radcliff was accepted as a defiance to the local cattle interests.Popular feeling was intensified when it was learned that they were determined not to recognize any local quarantine, and were secretly inquiring for extra men to guard their herds in passing Glendive.There was always a rabble element in every frontier town, and no doubt, as strangers, they could secure assistance in quarters that the local cowmen would spurn.Matters were approaching a white heat, when late that night an expected courier arrived, and reported the cattle coming through at the rate of twenty miles a day.They were not following any particular trail, traveling almost due north, and if the present rate of travel was maintained, Cabin Creek would be reached during the forenoon of the 7th.This meant business, and the word was quietly passed around that all volunteers were to be ready to move in the morning.A cowman named Retallac, owner of a range on the Yellowstone, had previously been decided on as captain, and would have under him not less than seventy-five chosen men, which number, if necessary, could easily be increased to one hundred.
Morning dawned on a scene of active operations.The two wagons were started fully an hour in advance of the cavalcade, which was to follow, driving a remuda of over two hundred saddle horses.
