to the last man-第11部分

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〃Texas　was　overstocked　with　bad　men　an'　fine　steers；〃　concluded
Blaisdell。　　〃Most　of　the　first　an'　some　of　the　last　have　struck　the
Tonto。　　The　sheepmen　have　now　got　distributin'　points　for　wool　an'
sheep　at　Maricopa　an'　Phoenix。　　They're　shore　waxin'　strong　an'　bold。〃

〃Ahuh！　。　。　。　An'　what's　likely　to　come　of　this　mess？〃　queried　Jean。

〃Ask　your　dad；〃　replied　Blaisdell。

〃I　will。　　But　I　reckon　I'd　be　obliged　for　your　opinion。〃

〃Wal；　short　an'　sweet　it's　this：　Texas　cattlemen　will　never　allow
the　range　they　stocked　to　be　overrun　by　sheepmen。〃

〃Who's　this　man　Greaves？〃　went　on　Jean。　　〃Never　run　into　anyone
like　him。〃

〃Greaves　is　hard　to　figure。　　He's　a　snaky　customer　in　deals。　　But　he
seems　to　be　good　to　the　poor　people　'round　heah。　　Says　he's　from
Missouri。　　Ha…ha！　　He's　as　much　Texan　as　I　am。　　He　rode　into　the
Tonto　without　even　a　pack　to　his　name。　　An'　presently　he　builds　his
stone　house　an'　freights　supplies　in　from　Phoenix。　　Appears　to　buy
an'　sell　a　good　deal　of　stock。　　For　a　while　it　looked　like　he　was
steerin'　a　middle　course　between　cattlemen　an'　sheepmen。　　Both　sides
made　a　rendezvous　of　his　store；　where　he　heard　the　grievances　of　each。
Laterly　he's　leanin'　to　the　sheepmen。　　Nobody　has　accused　him　of　that
yet。　　But　it's　time　some　cattleman　called　his　bluff。〃

〃Of　course　there　are　honest　an'　square　sheepmen　in　the　Basin？〃
queried　Jean。

〃Yes；　an'　some　of　them　are　not　unreasonable。　　But　the　new　fellows　that
dropped　in　on　us　the　last　few　yearthey're　the　ones　we're　goin'　to
clash　with。〃

〃Thissheepman；　Jorth？〃　went　on　Jean；　in　slow　hesitation；　as　if
compelled　to　ask　what　he　would　rather　not　learn。

〃Jorth　must　be　the　leader　of　this　sheep　faction　that's　harryin'　us
ranchers。　　He　doesn't　make　threats　or　roar　around　like　some　of　them。
But　he　goes　on　raisin'　an'　buyin'　more　an'　more　sheep。　　An'　his　herders
have　been　grazin'　down　all　around　us　this　winter。　　Jorth's　got　to　be
reckoned　with。〃

〃Who　is　he？〃

〃Wal；　I　don't　know　enough　to　talk　aboot。　　Your　dad　never　said　so；
but　I　think　he　an'　Jorth　knew　each　other　in　Texas　years　ago。　　I　never
saw　Jorth　but　once。　　That　was　in　Greaves's　barroom。　　Your　dad　an'　Jorth
met　that　day　for　the　first　time　in　this　country。　　Wal；　I've　not　known
men　for　nothin'。　　They　just　stood　stiff　an'　looked　at　each　other。
Your　dad　was　aboot　to　draw。　　But　Jorth　made　no　sign　to　throw　a　gun。

Jean　saw　the　growing　and　weaving　and　thickening　threads　of　a　tangle
that　had　already　involved　him。　　And　the　sudden　pang　of　regret　he
sustained　was　not　wholly　because　of　sympathies　with　his　own　people。

〃The　other　day　back　up　in　the　woods　on　the　Rim　I　ran　into　a　sheepman
who　said　his　name　was　Colter。　　Who　is　he？

〃Colter？　　Shore　he's　a　new　one。　　What'd　he　look　like？　〃

Jean　described　Colter　with　a　readiness　that　spoke　volumes　for　the
vividness　of　his　impressions。

〃I　don't　know　him；〃　replied　Blaisdell。　　〃But　that　only　goes　to　prove
my　contentionany　fellow　runnin'　wild　in　the　woods　can　say　he's　a
sheepman。〃

〃Colter　surprised　me　by　callin'　me　by　my　name；〃　continued　Jean。
〃Our　little　talk　wasn't　exactly　friendly。　　He　said　a　lot　about　my
bein'　sent　for　to　run　sheep　herders　out　of　the　country。〃

〃Shore　that's　all　over；〃　replied　Blaisdell；　seriously。　　〃You're　a
marked　man　already。〃

〃What　started　such　rumor？〃

〃Shore　you　cain't　prove　it　by　me。　　But　it's　not　taken　as　rumor。
It's　got　to　the　sheepmen　as　hard　as　bullets。〃

〃Ahuh！　　That　accunts　for　Colter's　seemin'　a　little　sore　under　the
collar。　　Well；　he　said　they　were　goin'　to　run　sheep　over　Grass　Valley；
an'　for　me　to　take　that　hunch　to　my　dad。〃

Blaisdell　had　his　chair　tilted　back　and　his　heavy　boots　against　a　post
of　the　porch。　　Down　he　thumped。　　His　neck　corded　with　a　sudden　rush　of
blood　and　his　eyes　changed　to　blue　fire。

〃The　hell　he　did！〃　he　ejaculated；　in　furious　amaze。

Jean　gauged　the　brooding；　rankling　hurt　of　this　old　cattleman　by　his
sudden　break　from　the　cool；　easy　Texan　manner。　　Blaisdell　cursed　under
his　breath；　swung　his　arms　violently；　as　if　to　throw　a　last　doubt　or
hope　aside；　and　then　relapsed　to　his　former　state。　　He　laid　a　brown
hand　on　Jean's　knee。

〃Two　years　ago　I　called　the　cards；〃　he　said；　quietly。　　〃It　means
a　Grass　Valley　war。〃

Not　until　late　that　afternoon　did　Jean's　father　broach　the　subject
uppermost　in　his　mind。　　Then　at　an　opportune　moment　he　drew　Jean　away
into　the　cedars　out　of　sight。

〃Son；　I　shore　hate　to　make　your　home…comin'　unhappy；〃　he　said；
with　evidence　of　agitation；　〃but　so　help　me　God　I　have　to　do　it！〃

〃Dad；　you　called　me　Prodigal；　an'　I　reckon　you　were　right。　　I've
shirked　my　duty　to　you。　　I'm　ready　now　to　make　up　for　it；〃　replied
Jean；　feelingly。

〃Wal；　wal；　shore　thats　fine…spoken；　my　boy。　。　。　。　Let's　set　down　heah
an'　have　a　long　talk。　　First　off；　what　did　Jim　Blaisdell　tell　you？〃

Briefly　Jean　outlined　the　neighbor　rancher's　conversation。　　Then　Jean
recounted　his　experience　with　Colter　and　concluded　with　Blaisdell's
reception　of　the　sheepman's　threat。　　If　Jean　expected　to　see　his　father
rise　up　like　a　lion　in　his　wrath　he　made　a　huge　mistake。　　This　news　of
Colter　and　his　talk　never　struck　even　a　spark　from　Gaston　Isbel。

〃Wal；〃　he　began；　thoughtfully；　〃reckon　there　are　only　two　points　in
Jim's　talk　I　need　touch　on。　　There's　shore　goin'　to　be　a　Grass　Valley
war。　　An'　Jim's　idea　of　the　cause　of　it　seems　to　be　pretty　much　the
same　as　that　of　all　the　other　cattlemen。　　It　'll　go　down　a　black　blot
on　the　history　page　of　the　Tonto　Basin　as　a　war　between　rival　sheepmen
an'　cattlemen。　　Same　old　fight　over　water　an'　grass！　。　。　。　Jean；　my　son；
that　is　wrong。　　It　'll　not　be　a　war　between　sheepmen　an'　cattlemen。
But　a　war　of　honest　ranchers　against　rustlers　maskin'　as　sheep…raisers！
　。　。　Mind　you；　I　don't　belittle　the　trouble　between　sheepmen　an'
cattlemen　in　Arizona。　　It's　real　an'　it's　vital　an'　it's　serious。
It　'll　take　law　an'　order　to　straighten　out　the　grazin'　question。
Some　day　the　government　will　keep　sheep　off　of　cattle　ranges。　。　。　。
So　get　things　right　in　your　mind；　my　son。　　You　can　trust　your　dad　to
tell　the　absolute　truth。　　In　this　fight　that　'll　wipe　out　some　of　the
Isbelsmaybe　all　of　themyou're　on　the　side　of　justice　an'　right。
Knowin'　that；　a　man　can　fight　a　hundred　times　harder　than　he　who
knows　he　is　a　liar　an'　a　thief。〃

The　old　rancher　wiped　his　perspiring　face　and　breathed　slowly　and
deeply。　　Jean　sensed　in　him　the　rise　of　a　tremendous　emotional　strain。
Wonderingly　he　watched　the　keen　lined　face。　　More　than　material　worries
were　at　the　root　of　brooding；　mounting　thoughts　in　his　father's　eyes。

〃Now　next　take　what　Jim　said　aboot　your　comin'　to　chase　these
sheep…herders　out　of　the　valley。　。　。　。　Jean；　I　started　that　talk。
I　had　my　tricky　reasons。　　I　know　these　greaser　sheep…herders　an'
I　know　the　respect　Texans　have　for　a　gunman。　　Some　say　I　bragged。
Some　say　I'm　an　old　fool　in　his　dotage；　ravin'　aboot　a　favorite　son。
But　they　are　people　who　hate　me　an'　are　afraid。　　True；　son；　I　talked
with　a　purpose；　but　shore　I　was　mighty　cold　an'　steady　when　I　did　it。
My　feelin'　was　that　you'd　do　what　I'd　do　if　I　were　thirty　years　younger。
No；　I　reckoned　you'd　do　more。　　For　I　figured　on　your　blood。　　Jean；
you're　Indian；　an'　Texas　an'　French；　an'　you've　trained　yourself　in
the　Oregon　woods。　　When　you　were　only　a　boy；　few　marksmen　I　ever　knew
could　beat　you；　an'　I　never　saw　your　equal　for　eye　an'　ear；　for　trackin'
a　hoss；　for　all　the　gifts　that　make　a　woodsman。　。　。　。　Wal；　rememberin'
this　an'　seein'　the　trouble　ahaid　for　the　Isbels；　I　just　broke　out
whenever　I　had　a　chance。　　I　bragged　before　men　I'd　reason　to　believe
would　take　my　words　deep。　　For　instance；　not　long　ago　I　missed　some
stock；　an'；　happenin'　into　Greaves's　place　one　Saturday　night；　I　shore
talked　loud。　　His　barroom　was　full　of　men　an'　some　of　them　were　in　my
black　book。　　Greaves　took　my　talk　a　little　testy。　　He　said。　'Wal；　Gass；
mebbe　you're　right　aboot　some　of　these　cattle　thieves　livin'　among　us；
but　ain't　they　jest　as　liable　to　be　some　of　your　friends　or　relatives
as　Ted　Meeker's　or　mine　or　any　one　around　heah？'　　That　was　where
Greaves　an'　me　fell　out。　　I　yelled　at　him：　'No；　by　God；　they're　not！
My　record　heah　an'　that　of　my　people　is　open。　　The　least　I　can　say
for　you；　Greaves；　an'　your　crowd；　is　that　your　records　fade　away　on
dim　trails。'　　Then　he　said；　nasty…like；　'Wal；　if　you　could　work　out
all　the　dim　trails　in　the　Tonto　you'd　shore　be　surprised。'　　An'　then
I　roared。　　Shore　that　was　the　chance　I　was　lookin'　for。　　I　swore　the
trails　he　hinted　of　would　be　tracked　to　the　holes　of　the　rustlers　who
made　them。　　I　told　him　I　had　sent　for　you　an'　when　you　got　heah　these
slippery；　mysterious　thieves；　whoever　they　were；　would　shore　have　hell
to　pay。　　Greaves　said　he　hoped　so；　but　he　was　afraid　I　was　partial　to
my　Indian　son。　　Then　we　had　hot　words。　　Blaisdell　got　between　us。
When　I　was　leavin'　I　took　a　partin'　fling　at　him。　　'Greaves；　you
ought　to　know　the　Isbels；　considerin'　you're　from　Texas。　　Maybe　you've
got　reasons　for　throwin'　taunts　at　my　claims　for　my　son　Jean。　　Yes；
he's　got　Indian　in　him　an'　that　'll　be　the　worse　for　the　men　who　will
have　to　meet　him。　　I'm　tellin'　you；　Greaves；　Jean　Isbel　is　the　black
sheep　of　the　family。　　If　you　ride　down　his　record　you'll　find　he's
shore　in　line　to　be　another　Poggin；　or　Reddy　Kingfisher；　or　Hardin'；
or　any　of　the　Texas　gunmen　you　ought　to　remember。　。　。　。　Greaves；
there　are　men　rubbin'　elbows　with　you　right　heah　that　my　Indian
son　is　goin'　to　track　down！'　〃

Jean　bent　his　head　in　stunned　cognizance　of　the　notoriety　with　which
his　father　had　chosen　to　affront　any　and　all　Tonto　Basin　men　who　were
under　the　ban　of　his　suspicion。　　What　a　terrible　reputation　and　trust
to　have　saddled　upon　him！　　Thrills　and　strange；　heated　sensations
seemed　to　rush　together　inside　Jean；　forming　a　hot　ball　of　fire　that
threatened　to　explode。　　A　retreating　self　made　feeble　protests。
He　saw　his　own　pale　face　going　away　from　this　older；　grimmer　man。

〃Son；　if　I　could　have　looked　forward　to　anythin'　but　blood　spillin'
I'd　never　have　given　you　such　a　name　to　uphold；〃　continued　the　rancher。
〃What　I'm　goin'　to　tell　you　now　is　my　secret。　　My　other　sons　an'　Ann
have　never　heard　i