we can rally the cattle interests to his support. Put up a good grievance, mind you!
You can both know that I begged strong when I took this cigar in preference to a drink.”
“It’s certainly a bad state of affairs we’ve come to when you refuse whiskey. Don’t you think so, Stubby?” said Arab, addressing the one and appealing to the other. “You never refused no drink, Baugh, you know you didn’t,” said Stubb reproachfully.
“Oh, you little sawed-off burnt-offering, you can’t see the policy that we must use in handling this matter. This is a delicate play, that can’t be managed roughshod on horseback. It has food, shelter, and drink in it for us all, but they must be kept in the background.
The main play now is to convince Mr. Seigerman that he has a call to serve his country in the office of sheriff. Bear down heavy on the emergency clause. Then make him think that no other name but Louie Seigerman will satisfy the public clamor. Now, my dear Stubby, I know that you are a gifted and accomplished liar, and for that reason I insist that you work your brain and tongue in this matter. Keep your own motive in the background and bring his to the front. That’s the idea. Now, can you play your part?”
“Well, as I have until to-morrow to think it over, I’ll try,” said Stubb.
The next afternoon Baugh and Stubb sauntered into Louie’s place, and received a very cordial welcome at the hands of the proprietor. Baugh introduced Stubb as a friend of his whom he had met in town that day, and who, being also interested in cattle, he thought might be able to offer some practical suggestions. Their polite refusal to indulge in a social glass with the proprietor almost hurt his feelings.
“Let us retire to the rear room for a few moments of conversation, if you have the leisure,” said Baugh.
Once secure in the back room, Stubb opened his talk. “As my friend Mr. Baughman has said, I’m local manager of the Ohio Cattle Company operating in the Strip. I’m spending considerable time in your town at present, as I’m overseeing the wintering of something like a hundred saddle horses and two hundred and fifty of our thoroughbred bulls.
We worked our saddle stock so late last fall, that on my advice the superintendent sent them into the State to be corn-fed for the winter.
The bulls were too valuable to be risked on the range. We had over fifty stolen last season, that cost us over three hundred dollars a head. I had a letter this morning from our superintendent, asking me to unite with what seems to be a general movement to suppress this high-handed stealing that has run riot in this county in the past.
Mr. Baughman has probably acquainted you with the general sentiment in cattle circles regarding what should be done. I wish to assure you further that my people stand ready to use their best endeavors to nominate a candidate who will pledge himself to stamp out this disgraceful brand-burning and cattle-rustling. The little protection shown the livestock interests in this western country has actually driven capital out of one of the best paying industries in the West.
But it is our own fault. We take no interest in local politics. Any one is good enough for sheriff with us. But this year there seems to be an awakening. It may be a selfish interest that prompts this uprising; I think it is. But that is the surest hope in politics for us. The cattle-men’s pockets have been touched, their interests have been endangered. Mr. Seigerman, I feel confident that if you will enter the race for this office, it will be a walk-away for you. Now consider the matter fully, and I might add that there is a brighter future for you politically than you possibly can see. I wish I had brought our superintendent’s letter with me for you to read.
“He openly hints that if we elect a sheriff in this county this fall who makes an efficient officer, he will be strictly in line for the office of United States Marshal of western Kansas and all the Indian Territory. You see, Mr. Seigerman, in our company we have as stock-holders three congressmen and one United States senator. I have seen it in the papers myself, and it is a common remark Down East, so I’m told, that the weather is chilly when an Ohio man gets left. Now with these men of our company interested in you, there would be no refusing them the appointment. Why, it would give you the naming of fifty deputies—good easy money in every one of them. You could sit back in a well-appointed government office and enjoy the comforts of life. Now, Mr. Seigerman, we will see you often, but let me suggest that your acceptance be as soon as possible, for if you positively decline to enter the race, we must look in some other quarter for an available man.” Leaving these remarks for Seigerman’s reflections, he walked out of the room.
As Seigerman started to follow, Baugh tapped him on the shoulder to wait, as he had something to say to him. Baugh now confirmed everything said, using the German language. He added, “Now, my friend Stubb is too modest to admit who his people really are, but the Ohio Cattle Company is practically the Standard Oil Company, but they don’t want it known. It’s a confidence that I’m placing in you, and request you not to repeat it. Still, you know what a syndicate they are and the influence they carry. That very little man who has been talking to you has better backing than any cow-boss in the West. He’s a safe, conservative fellow to listen to.”
When they had rejoined Stubb in the bar-room, Baugh said to Seigerman, “Don’t you think you can give us your answer by Friday next, so your name can be announced in the papers, and an active canvass begun without further loss of time?”
“Shentlemens, I’ll dry do,” said Louie, “but you will not dake a drink mit me once again, aind it?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Seigerman,” replied Stubb.
“He gave me a very fine cigar yesterday; you’ll like them if you try one,” said Baugh to Stubb. “Let it be a cigar to-day, Mr. Seigerman.”
As Baugh struck a match to light his cigar, he said to Stubb, “I’m coming up to stop with Mr. Seigerman to- morrow. Why don’t you join us?”
“I vould be wery much bleased to haf you mine guest,” said Louie, every inch the host.
“This is a very home-like looking place,” remarked Stubb. “I may come up; I’ll come around Sunday and take dinner with you, anyhow.”
“Do, blease,” urged Louie.
There was a great deal to be said, and it required two languages to express it all, but finally the “Dreibund” parted. The next day Baugh moved into his new quarters, and the day following Stubb was so pleased with his Sunday dinner that he changed at once.
“I’m expecting a man from Kansas City to-morrow,” said Baugh to Louie on Sunday morning, “who will know the sentiment existing in cattle circles in that city. He’ll be in on the morning train.”
Stubb, in the mean time, had coached Arab as to what he should say. As Baugh and he had covered the same ground, it was thought best to have Arab Ab the heeler, the man who could deliver the vote to order.
So Monday morning after the train was in, the original trio entered, and Arab was introduced. The back room was once more used as a council chamber where the “Fierbund” held an important session.
“I didn’t think there was so much interest being taken,” began Arab Ab, “until my attention was called to it yesterday by the president and secretary of our company in Kansas City. I want to tell you that the cattle interests in that city are aroused. Why, our secretary showed me the figures from his books; and in the ‘Tin Cup’ brand alone we shipped out three hundred and twelve beeves short, out of twenty-nine hundred and ninety-six bought two years ago. My employers, Mr. Seigerman, are practical cowmen, and they know that those steers never left the range without help. Nothing but lead or Texas fever can kill a beef. We haven’t had a case of fever on our range for years, nor a winter in five years that would kill an old cow. Why, our president told me if something wasn’t done they would have to abandon this country and go where they could get protection. His final orders were to do what I could to get an eligible man as a candidate, which, I’m glad to hear from my friends here, we have hopes of doing. Then when the election comes off, we must drop everything and get every man to claim a residence in this county and vote him here. I’ll admit that I’m no good as a wire-puller, but when it comes to getting out the voters, there’s where you will find me as solid as a bridge abutment.
“Why, Mr. Seigerman, when I was skinning mules for Creech & Lee, contractors on the Rock Island, one fall, they gave me my orders, which was to get every man on the works ready to ballot. I lined them up and voted them like running cattle through a branding-chute to put on a tally-mark or vent a brand. There were a hundred and seventy-five of those dagoes from the rock-cut; I handled them like dipping sheep for the scab. My friends here can tell you how I managed voting the bonds at a little town east of here. I had my orders from the same people I’m working for now, to get out the cow-puncher element in the Strip for the bonds. The bosses simply told me that what they wanted was a competing line of railroad. And as they didn’t expect to pay the obligations, only authorize them,—the next generation could attend to the paying of them,—we got out a full vote. Well, we ran in from four to five hundred men from the Strip, and out of over seven hundred ballots cast, only one against the bonds. We hunted
