Troubled range Read Free Page B

replied.
    "Please—pretty please."
    Like the man said, a feller's sins always bounced right back on to his fool head happen he stayed around long enough after committing them; and Mark had taken a firm stand on the subject of politeness bringing its own reward when he first met Calamity.
    Half an hour later Mark sat drawing on his boots and at his side, smiling contentedly, Calamity buttoned her shirt after tucking it into her pants.
    "Yes sir," she sighed, rising to make the fire. "World's sure a happier place happen we all ask each other polite."
    There had been a time, back the first time it happened, when Calamity would have expected the man to ma- rj her and spend the rest of his days in a haze of devotion to her.
    Only he had not. The feller had been a handsome young freighter and Calamity a naive sixteen-year-old girl fresh out in the harsh, cruel world. When she woke the morning after it happened, she found him gone and felt that her heart would break. It did not. Fact being Calamity had discovered her heart could stand plenty of jolting around without showing any signs of fracture. From the first time, she built up the belief that no man was so much better than the rest that he was worth busting a gut over when he pulled up his stakes and left. There would be another feller come along, so she went her own way, enjoying life to the full in good times and bad. Only she no longer grew starry-eyed when a man showed appreciation of her feminine charms.
    Sure, last night had been swell, but that did not make her a potential Mrs. Mark Counter. Likely they would part in Elkhorn City and never meet again. Although she had never heard the word, would not have understood it if she did, or know how to phrase it, Calamity figured their destinies lay in different directions. While last night had been an enjoyable experience, and one she would not soon forget, nothing serious could come of it.
    So Calamity cooked breakfast, while Mark used some of the contents of her water-butt for his wash and shave. They ate their food with a good appetite and prepared to move on. After saddling his bloodbay, Mark helped Calamity to hitch

    up her team to the wagon. When all was done Mark mounted his horse and Calamity swung up on to the box of her wagon, taking up the blacksnake whip.
    "Giddap!" Calamity yelled, swinging her whip and making it pop like a gunshot in the morning air.
    The two horses put their shoulders to the harness and moved forward, starting the wagon rolling. Side by side Calamity and Mark headed across the range, following the faint wheel ruts which marked the way to their respective business affairs in Elkhorn City.
    "How come Cap'n Fog's not along with you, Mark?" she asked.
    "Had some business to attend to in town and couldn't leave. Then he got this telegraph wire from a feller up in Elkhorn wanting to pay off some money he owed Ole Devil. Sent me along to collect it."
    "I'd sure admire to have met Cap'n Fog. How come he took his herd to Newton, not Hays, this year?"
    "Saved two days driving, brought in the first drive of the year. Happen the railroad keeps pointing the way it is, we'll likely be delivering to somewheres around Fort Dodge next summer. You figure Wild Bill scared us off?"
    "Like I said last night. Who's Wild Bill?' she grinned. "Sure would like to see Cap'n Fog though. Is all I hear about him true?"
    "Such as?"
    "How he stands taller'n you, is stronger, faster with his guns."
    "Would you believe me if I told you Dusty Fog stands only about five foot at most?"
    "Nope—Hey, you're not jobbing me. You're serious, aren't you?"
    Mark nodded his head. When he said Dusty Fog stood only five foot six, he told the simple truth—but to Mark's way of thinking, and to many others with whom he came in contact, Dusty Fog could not be measured in mere feet and inches, he stood the tallest of them all.
    "I alius heard—!" Calamity began.
    "Sure," Mark interrupted. "I've heard it too."
    For a time they travelled on