As the dust-cloud rolled nearer, the individual riders became distinguishable. Cogewea ran down the yard path, calling to Densmore:
“See! the conquering heroes come!”
She rushed on to open the corral gate; greeted with a chorus of cheery salutations as the outfit filed into the enclosure. These she returned with a graceful wave of the hand. Jim, springing from his horse, was soon at her side. This demonstration of devotion, Densmore remarked from a distance and mentally cursed the “copper” breed.
“How is Sis, my little squ—? How has she behaved while I was gone? How’s that there busted tenderfoot?”
The girl’s eyes blazed, but she made no reply. A wan smile came over the bronze face of the foreman; as turning to Silent Bob he observed sadly:
“See Sis’ ‘glintin’ optics? She’s mad already ’cause we’re back home.”
“I hater see them there fine lookers ablazin’ like coals; I hater see po’ Jim all freezed in th’ sunshine,” lamented the Silent One as he passed into the barn. The Westerner again addressed the object of his solicitude:
“What’re you war-pathin’ me for, little—ah—squaw?”
Cogewea laughed. Seemingly she could not be angry at Jim for long, no difference what he said to her. Turning to him, she said saucily:
“I came to tell you the news, but you ruffled me and now I’m not going to do it. You can be sorry enough!”
“Aw! come on, Sis,” he coaxed with mock gravity. “Tell me, and I’ll buy you some candy and ribbons next time I go to town for a spree.”
“Huh! You talk as if I were some kid with pigtails down my back. I no longer wear streamers in my hair. I left dolls and toys several snows back on the trail. Your bribe hardly goes this time.”
“What is them there news, little Injun?”
“But I might take some chocolates!”
“Tell me what you know!”
“Come to think, you may bring me a yard of sateen lace for a belt. Don’t get it more than two inches in width.”
“Is some fellers a gettin’ married? Goin’ be a weddin’ dance somewhere?”
“You must be afflicted with that mismatic brain disorder, since it is about the first topic that enters your dome after running loose so long.”
“Well, what is it? Has that there city dood croaked? If he has, then a whole pound of candy and a lot of belt runnin’ gear will be sure comin’. I’d be plum tickled for such chance to celebrate.”
“No! There has been no demising about here, nor is there any altar splicing brewing that I know of. But there is to be a basket social in the town opera hall tomorrow night for the benefit of the new church building. We’re all going, Julia, Mary and myself; taking baskets, including one for the Stemteemä, who will not go. Loads of chicken and goodies with everything that a cowpuncher likes. Everybody will buy his girl’s basket, if he knows which one it is.”
“When yo’ say it’s a comin’ off?” interrupted Celluloid Bill, who at that moment happened to be passing.
“Tomorrow night; and the baskets are to be auctioned and a prize given for the one bringing the most money. A dance is scheduled.”
“Yo’ can count me twice,” volunteered the rider as he sauntered towards the bunkhouse.
“Next to a grave diggin’, a church dance’ll be tonic for the trail-wearies,” sighed Jim. “I’ll go my month’s wages on your basket, Sis, if only I knowed your brand.”
“Now don’t start throwing me that hot air stuff,” came the counter. “I was born farther west than Montana, and you can’t make anything like that stick with this squaw. Savey?”
“I mean it, Chipmunk! Am goin’ ask for my September kale tonight so to have it ready for the big doin’s. Put me wise to your feed basket, won’t you? I want to sample that there grubstake.”
Cogewea spoke something close to Jim’s ear in their own tongue. He laughed softly and made reply in like manner. Drawing suddenly away, she exclaimed:
“If you do, James LaGrinder, I’ll get even with you and don’t you forget it! You never could keep a secret, unless—” she glanced cautiously around—“you were deeply concerned.”
“Ain’t scalp-huntin’, are you? I’ve been lonesome! And you know I can keep some secret worth while.”
The girl gave him a smile as she walked away, but under that smile was planned revenge. The foreman joyed in these wordy tilts. While ever true to a pledge, about the only time that he had ever failed to make capital of a joke at her expense, was when he found her stranded afoot out on the range that afternoon, when their mutual misfortunes demanded silence.
That evening the riders and their foreman assembled in the center of the main corral in secret conclave. The topic was important; one in which honor of the H-B ranch was at stake. With lowered voice lest hostile ears be listening, Jim opened the meeting.
“Boys,” he began, “basket social in town tomorrow night. Big doin’s and dance! We’re all goin’ take it in, and we want to hold up the good standin’ of this here outfit. There’ll be city guys with hair parted in middle, all dressed in shiny shoes, white shirts, and a wearin’ stiff standin’ collars and choke rags. Out here from Noo York, Chicago and Omyhaw, they’re huntin’ lonely school marms with payin’ homesteads. Them there ’venturers go in for grabbin’ baskets at four bits; maybe as much as a dollar. The Hoss-shoe boys is a goin’ all togged in best silk shirts and handkerchiefs; and none cinch a feed box for less than five bones. We’ll dig into them there city birds and spur ’em up with dollar bids. Got
