Roy Norton

“ And Horn swore that the great dog that had arisen from between its master's feet, as if rendered apprehensive by such length of speech, suddenly smiled, licked the one hand it knew and loved in all the world, sighed deeply, and again rested content.
“But—wasn't there any place you could find nearer than that?” the storekeeper demanded, and then added, whimsically: “Seems to me you're a hell of a long way from anywhere.”
“Me and Sioux are loners,” John Barton mumbled thoughtfully, “and are used to bein' a hell of a long way from anywhere, so we don't like too damn' much company.” ”

“ Alarmed, John Barton urged his pony recklessly down the trail that wound back and forth the face of the cliff. And then he saw, crawling toward him with dragging hind legs, and uttering plaintive whines, that strange partner of his, the great mongrel dog. The Loner flung himself from his saddle crying, “Sioux! Sioux! What is it?” He dropped to his knees and caught the dog in his arms. The dog rested there, licking the gnarled hands with hot tongue, whimpering a tale of distress and defeat—endeavoring to explain his first great failure, and his fierce but hopeless fight. ”

“ AGAIN the sheriff sadly shook his head and said: “I know it is. And I know that to bring a posse so far takes time and money, and that before it could be done, those steers of yours would probably have been shipped and the thieves starting out to rustle a fresh batch. That's what makes it possible for that Birch Gang to get away with all they do. They're not much afraid of the law in a country like this. All they're afraid of are the cattle-men themselves. ”

“ It's the winder, after all!” the listening man muttered. He tensed himself for action, then heard a thud as of feet dropped upon the bench outside the cabin window. He waited no longer, but leaped to his feet and ran round the back of the cabin toward the corner, rifle in ready hands.
Two figures in swift motion emerged from the shadow, undoubtedly believing that the blind wall of the cabin was unguarded, and rushed upon him. The Loner fired from his hip, and one man shouted, threw his hands up and toppled backward, and a revolver hurled into the air caught blue glints from the moon. ”

“ His low, gentle voice died away into mumbled, inaudible, broken sentences, an habitual closure; but after that, the reputation of the dog called Sioux was established, and men moved with caution when in its vicinity. Yet dog and man had what was the extreme virtue of their days and environment, in that each strictly, unendingly, resolutely, “minded his own business.”
THE “business” of John Barton, it became known, was cattle. ”

“ That's what they did up on the Wyoming ranges, and that's why the gang's come down into this country. But one thing I'll tell you: if I were you, I'd take that warning mighty seriously, and not go back until, somehow or another, that gang of rustlers is wiped out. It's as much as your life is worth, I tell you, to try to stick there. What does the murder of one lonely man, away off by himself, amount to to them? Nothing! Not as much as that!” And he snapped his fingers.
The Loner sat for a long time brooding helplessly before he said: “Then it seems there aint anything at all that I can do. ”

“ Yet in due time three carloads of young stock consigned to John Barton were by him and Sioux driven away.
It was Tom Horn, the somewhat inquisitive storekeeper from whom John Barton bought his supplies, who first gleaned information of the latter's situation, hopes and emprise, with which he seemed content.
“It's like this,” he explained in an unusual outburst of confidence. 'Most of my life I've been lookin' for a place that would just suit me so's I could settle down, quit driftin', an' call it home. Every man wants a home. ”

“ It gave way to admiration at the seventh, provoked murmurs of applause at the ninth and burst into a wild cheer at the tenth. The Loner was too much engaged in pacifying Sioux to give heed. The distance-tests left him well in the lead, but the crowd was almost unanimous in its agreement that at rapid-fire, short-distances, a man of his age had small chance. ”

“ In the light of the lamp Barton bound his own wound, which experience convinced him was painful but not dangerous, and then stood for a moment staring at the lamp.
“I got to get to Roney,” he muttered. “He's been up there all day, but—” And then he blew out the lamp, closed the door softly as if fearing to disturb the dead, and with seeming absurdity painfully carried a pail of water in his hand when he limped away to the steeply climbing trail. He gave the horse the water, apologizing meantime in muttered sentences for his neglect ”

“ The sheriff scowled and clenched his fists when the story was finished, then glared at the written notice issued by the rustlers.
“John,” he said kindly, “I wish I could go after them. The Lord knows I do! It's undoubtedly the Birch Gang, and from now on there'll be trouble around here; but don't you understand that I'm hog-tied like a thrown steer? This is Colorado. You belong in another State, and another county, and I'm not allowed to cross over into Utah to run down cattle-thieves. You should have gone to the sheriff of your county.” ”

“ Spring came, indeed, before the Loner called on Horn.
“Goin' to buy some young stuff to run and fatten,” he explained.
“John, you can have your money any time you want it,” said Horn, “but have you heard about this bunch of rustlers called the Birch Gang? Well, they're a bad lot. It's pretty generally known that they're running whole herds of stock off the range, but so far, no one has been able to prove it on them—that is, if anyone has, he's turned his toes up before he got a chance. ”

“ Sometimes he finds it soon; sometimes he travels far, and if he's unlucky, sometimes never finds it at all—never! I've found mine. Long Valley, between rocks so high there's only two ways of gettin' in and out of it, and both so narrer they can be shut in with a fence; river through the middle; good grazin' for more cattle than I can ever own; some timber up in the hills; Manipa only twenty miles away; no bad Injuns and no bad neighbors..... Peace. Place where a man can sleep without hangin' onto his gun. What better could me and Sioux, after all we've been through—ummh—want than that? ”

“ He trudged unfalteringly back, then by a zigzag route and keeping behind cover—now a rock, now a clump of brush clinging precariously to the shelves of the cliff—gained a lower and closer altitude that commanded both door and window. He carefully selected a boulder over the tops of which grew in profusion a screen of brush He took off his coat as if going to manual labor, spread his cartridges within reach and then, resting on his knees behind the boulder, thrust his rifle through the screen, brushed his eyes as if to make certain of their clarity, took careful aim and fired. ”

“ I'll go out and git Roney now.”
At one o'clock in the morning the lone agent at Manipa was aroused from sleep by the Loner, who carried in his cramped arms, as if it were an injured child, a half-conscious dog, while slung over his shoulder was a burnished rifle.
“Wh—wh—what the hell's this?” the sleepy agent demanded, opening his eyes and staring at the white-bearded old man who peered at him appealingly.
“It's me—John Barton. Sioux's been hurt bad. Shot! You can stop trains, cain't you? They'll stop if you ask 'em with that red light of your'n, wont they?” ”

“ From now on, anybody who makes fun of him answers to me. I was a damn' fool myself; for, I tell you, even if he don't look up to much, the Loner's a great old man. I saw it in his eyes. He's got something inside of him that counts.”
The evidence of trust imposed in Horn by the Loner was not long in forthcoming. It took form in a check which Barton had received for his first shipment of cattle, and was inclosed with a letter:
I don't like banks. One busted once and busted me. So I wish you'd get the money for this here piece of paper and keep it in your safe till I want it.
John Barton. ”

“ Give him a chance! It's not fair to talk when a man is on such a strain.”
The Loner turned, and his clear eyes twinkled as he said: “Thank you, sir. But me and Sioux don't care. A lot of our shootin's been done where a feller couldn't afford to let noise make him miss—but—thanks just the same.”
AND then at the signal he threw the borrowed rifle up and with startling accuracy and rapidity made his score. The visiting experts were the first to congratulate him; for despite his years and an unfamiliar weapon, he was point to point with them in the final test, and the prize rifle was his. ”

“ Dejected, he sat alone in the westbound train that night, seeming to find no interest in the half-dozen other occupants of the coach, and but little in the conversation of the brakeman, who recognized him, and dropped into the seat by his side for a chat.
“Aint you afraid the rustlers will give you a visit, Uncle John?” the young man asked. “We heard on the up-trip that some of the runs a little west of you are missing a lot of steers.”
“Nope,” the Loner insisted, stubbornly, “they aint likely to come my way.” ”

“ Nobody knows that they committed murder, but there's a dozen men been found dead that can't be accounted for. A United States deputy marshal told me confidentially, only last week, that they've been working in Wyoming until it got too hot for them, and that they're thought to have come this way. ”

“ It's almost impossible under the law to get them! It's an outrage, but it can't be helped. I don't honestly know what you can do about it. If you had neighbors that could band together to help one another, you might make it too hot for them. ”