called him that. Two-Noses really only had the usual quota, but that one more than made up for the small size of the rest of him.
Longarm explained as they rode over to the pasture, “That new calf’s not fully weaned, so he’s likely looking for his mama. I figure we can turn him loose and see where he thinks she might be. Critters are good at finding one another.”
Calvin said, “Roping Sally brought him to us. Do you think she held back on one of the cows we ordered?”
“Son,” Longarm said, “you’ve got to learn to pay attention. When Sally and her hands drove that last herd in, they told you they’d picked up a stray from here along the way, remember?”
“Oh, you mean that calf’s the same one?” Durler looked confused.
“Hell, weren’t you even looking at them when she brought ‘em in? Of course it was the same calf. Has a calico left rump as I remember.”
“Then what you’re saying is that the calf’s mother was one of the cows recently stolen, and, Jesus you must think I’m dumb.”
“You’re learning. Everybody starts out dumb. There’s the herd up yonder and, yep, old calico-rump’s over against the far fence, looking for an opening.”
Longarm led his little band around the fenced quarter-section on the outside. As they came up to the wailing calf against the fence, he dismounted and pulled down the top wire far enough for the lostling to leap over it, bawling. By the time he’d remounted, the calf was making a beeline for the southeast horizon at a dead run.
The men followed at a discreet trot. From time to time the little runaway would slow to a dogged walk, getting its wind back, then run some more. Two hours later, and nine or ten miles from the agency, Durler said, “We’re off the reservation.”
Longarm said, “I know. He’s making for that sod house, yonder.”
As the four riders approached, a man came out of the soddy with a rifle and called, “You’re on the Bar K, gents. State your business and state it sudden!”
Longarm and his companions reined to a walk but kept coming as Longarm saw the calf nuzzling a cow through the wire fence on the far side of the homestead claim. He smiled and said, “We’re on U.S. Government business, mister. You’ve got about two eye-blinks to put that weapon near your toes before I shoot you.”
The man hesitated as he considered the odds. Then he leaned the gun against the doorjamb and stepped away from it, complaining, “You got no call to threaten me, durn it! I’m a peaceable settler.”
“I can see that, now. You likely didn’t know that some of those cows that maybe strayed over here belonged to the reservation, huh?”
“What are you talking about? I ain’t got no reservation cows.”
“You’ve got one I can see from here, mister. For your sake, I hope you haven’t run any brands.” He swung around in his saddle and said, “Rain Crow, ride over there and cut out every cow that isn’t wearing a Bar K on it. If you see any marked U.S., or anything that might have been U.S. at one time, give a holler.”
The young Indian grinned and loped toward the fenced pasture with Two Noses as the settler near the soddy protested, “I ain’t had time to brand some of my critters, but I swear you got this all wrong.”
A worried-looking woman peered out through the door and the man snapped, “Get back inside, Mother. I think these men are loco or something. They’ve as much as accused me of stealing!”
The woman ran out into the dooryard and got between Longarm and her husband as she wailed, “Oh, Lordy, don’t you hang him, mister! I told him he was likely to get in trouble over them damn cows, but he ain’t a bad man. Not really!”
Rain Crow rode back, still grinning. He said, “Fifteen head. Five U.S., one Double Z. The rest have no brands.”
Longarm nodded. “Well, we’ll take ‘em all, then, after I thank these folks for their trouble.”
The cow thief shouted, “Now, you just listen here!”
Longarm’s amiable expression vanished without a trace as he turned toward the settler. “No, you listen, mister! I’ve got you dead to rights but I’ve got bigger fish to fry, so we’re taking the cows and I’m letting you off with a warning. The warning is, the next time I see you within a country mile of the reservation line, you are dead.”
“I aimed to bring them branded cows in when I got around to it. I was rounding up and-“
“You’ve got a Double Z cow in there, too. You want me to tell them about it?”
“I was aiming to return that’n, too. The ones I ain’t got to branding yet-“
“Are lost, strayed or stolen, mister,” Longarm interrupted. “You want to be friendly and call ‘em strays or are you just too foolish to go on breathing?”
“Damn it, half of them is really mine!”
“Not any more. You’re getting off light and you know it. Go ahead, Rain Crow, cut the fence and we’ll herd ‘em all back. I’ll say we found the Double Z critter mixed in with our stock, next time I’m in town.”
As the Indian started to carry out his orders, the man shouted, “You can’t do this, mister.”
Longarm said, “I just did, and, like I said, this lady’s a widow woman if I see you near the reservation or have to pass this way again.”
“Now all I have to do is find out who’s selling booze to my Indians!” said Cal Durler, feeling pleased with himself as he and Longarm sat on the back porch of the agency after riding back with the purloined cattle.
Nan was in the house, getting together some vittles, and the mission woman was still beating her drum next door. Longarm noticed that Cal was fooling with a length of cotton clothesline as they talked. He said, “Your Indians are starting to take an interest in the herd. Old Rain Crow was tickled to hunt ‘em down and sass a white man like that, but let’s not get too cocky. Some cow thieves take their business more serious than that petty thief we just
