`No,' was the curt reply.
Two hundred,' and when the cowboy shook his head, `Three hundred.'
Several of the onlookers gasped, and gazed enviously upon the owner of the coveted animal. In a land where even good horseflesh was cheap, the price offered was excessive. `Cripes! Wish I owned that hoss,' murmured one thirsty soul, visioning the number of drinks to be obtained for three hundred dollars.`Betcha a dollar he takes it.' His neighbour had been watching the cowboy closely. `Take yu,' he said instantly. He had but spoken when Green looked the would-be purchaser calmly in the face, and said:
`The hoss is not for sale.'
For a moment Tarman was nonplussed; he had felt confident that a sum more than equal to seven months' pay would tempt a cowhand to part with even a favourite mount: But he would not give in. It was his boast that he always got what he went after, and realising that mere money would not do it, he tried something else.
`See here,' he said. `Cowboys is reckoned to be good sports. Now I'll put up four hundred 'gainst the hoss an' play yu for him--any game yu like. What about it?'
`I ain't playin' for nor sellin' the hoss,' Green replied, `but'--and his voice had a rasp in it as he marked the growing sneer on the other's lips--`I'll give him to yu if yu can stay on him for five minutes by the clock.'
From the spectators of the scene came a murmur of applause, born of the instinctive loyalty for one's home town which remains in a man after he has lost almost everything else. The stranger might be all that he seemed, but public favour was, for the moment anyway, on the side of the cowboy. He had met the challenge with a sporting offer which not only promised excitement but reflected credit upon the community at large. Bets were bandied about at once, for the reputation of the roan was known, and the offer was one the visitor could hardly refuse. He had no intention of doing so.
`I'll go yu,' he laughed, `but as I don't take gifts from strangers, if I win--an' I've never seen anythin' on four legs that I couldn't ride--yu must accept the price I offered, three hundred for the hoss.'
`As yu like,' said the puncher indifferently.
Immediately the crowd, which now included nearly every male inhabitant, surged back to the sidewalks and occupied the doorways, leaving the street empty save for the horse, Green, who held it, and the newcomer. The fortunate few who possessed watches got them out in readiness to time the contest; those with money were eagerly endeavouring to place bets.
`Think yore friend'll make it?' asked one of Laban.
`I reckon,' was the stolid reply, and the questioner turned away in disgust, murmuring, 'Bloomin' parrot, on'y two words he knows. Must be one o' them ready reckoners I've heard about.'
The big man wasted no time. Directly the street was clear he stepped forward, took the reins from Green, and with a lightness not to be looked for in so heavy a man, sprang into the saddle and settled his feet in the stirrups. For perhaps five seconds nhe animal stood perfectly still, and then, with a shrill scream of rage, it instantly became a maelstrom of activity. Head down, it leapt into the air a dozen times with incredible rapidity, landing on legs as sniff as steel rods, and never allowing the rider an instant to recover from one shock before the next came. It was straightforward bucking, with no particular novelty, but the speed made it terrible.
`My Gawd! can't he buck though?' breathed one of the awed spectators. `Ten to one on the hoss.' Nobody nook up the wager. But Tarman hung on, his eyes glazing, his face white as death, and a trickle of blood oozing from his clamped lips. Jarred almost inno insensibility by the violence of the incessant jolts, he rocked in the saddle, his head jerking to and fro as nhough his neck were already broken. That he had pluck as well as strength was obvious.
There could be only one end, however, and it came soon. Again the frantic animal shot from the ground, but this time its body curved curiously in the air as it came down, upsetting the rider's already precarious balance and causing him to sway sideways. Then as the brute's forefeet landed, its hindquarters rose suddenly, and Tarman flew out of the saddle like a snone from a sling, to sprawl, face downwards, in the dust of the street.
`Seventy-five seconds,' Green said quietly, as he slipped his watch back into his pocket and sprang forward to grip the reins of the horse, which was now standing still, with heaving flanks and trembling limbs.
Seth ran to assist his friend, only to be thrust aside with a curse as Tarman scrambled to his feet. The man was transformed; in the place of the jovial good fellowship, his face, dust and blood-smeared, was now that of a fiend. Cursing, he stood there, swaying on his legs and clawing for the gun which had swung round behind him. His purpose was plain; he intended to shoot the horse.
`Don't yu,' drawled a quiet voice, and he looked into the muzzle of the cowboy's gun.
With a tremendous effort he got control of himself again, but anger still flamed winhin him. 'I'Il give you five hundred dollars for that brute, if it's only to break ins damned neck,' he cried.
`Yu couldn't buy him with all yu got,' was the contemptuous answer. `Yu had yore chance.'
Without another glance at the discomfited man he swung himself carelessly into the saddle, cuffed the horse playfully when it half-heartedly tried to throw him out again, and rode down the street.
Tarman looked for the girl but she had gone, though he knew she had witnessed his defeat, a fact which contributed not a little to his unfortunate display of temper. This was now over, and as he brushed the dust from his clothes, he said, with a rueful grin: `Well, folks, it ain't often that Joe Tarman loses his wool but I've shore got to own up to it to-day. That hoss certainly got me goin'. First time I ever was piled an' I've rid some bad ones too, but that roan's a holy terror. Say, I reckon I've swallowed pretty near an acre o' dust; what about irrigatin', an' mebbe a little game o' some sort?'
The proposal was received with acclamation of a thirsty crowd, and Poker Pete happening along very opportunely, was presented to Mr. Tarman and the little game was soon in progress. The big man lost about a hundred dollars at poker, most of it to the gambler, and with great good humour, insisted on celebrating his second defeat of the day by setting up drinks for all, an act which proclaimed him a thorough sport and soundly established his popularity. But there were those who remembered his expression when he rose from the dusty street, and were of opinion that despite his geniality the newcomer was not one to take liberties with.
Noreen rode home with much to think of. At the commencement of the scene between the visitor and the cowpuncher she had ridden a little distance away, but could not resist the temptation to turn and watch. She saw Green choose the western trail out of town, and guessed that it was deliberately done to save her from further embarrassment; while she appreciated the motive, she was conscious of a vague sense of disappointment.
Respecting Tarman she could come to no decision; he had both repelled and attracted her. Even with her small experience of the world, she recognised in him a type capable of exercising a powerful appeal to women. While he was essentially a man's man, he did not neglect the softer influences. He dressed well, and yet no one could have called him a dandy. A good tweed suit, the trousers folded neatly into the tops of his well-fitting riding-boots, a silk shirt, with a soft collar and flowing tie, and an expensive Stetson, were in marked contrast to the nondescript attire affected by most of the inhabitants of Hatchett's Folly.
As to the real man himself, Noreen could only speculate, but she remembered his face as he staggered to his feet from the dust when the horse had thrown him, and shivered. No doubt the humiliation had been a cruel one, but.... She found herself wondering how the puncher would have taken a similar defeat and had to confess that she did not know; men were so different when they were angry. But somehow she felt that Green would not have wanted to kill the horse--he would have respected it for its victory. He and Tarman were different types, she decided, and pursued the thought no further.