University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

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16 THE REDWOOD ble horses. Now he paused an instant, tossed his majestic head in the air and looked with ahnost intelligent but Avild eyes at the horse traders. The cowboy advanced from the pro- tecting shade of the retreat. He picked up his chaps, snapped them on and stai-ted with a slightly bow-legged stride towards the horse. Drop in when you ' re up my way Mac, said Bob. Awful lonesome up there. The fat, pudgy figure dropped from the gate, half rolled, half walked to where the cowboy was saddling his horse. Hold on ' ere Bob! he put in. Gimme thet fifty an take the — out- law with yuh. I hope by crackey, he kills yuh ! ' ' Bob grasped the saddle horn in his right hand. Cannon Ball ' s ear in his left, stepped back a pace and vaulted into the saddle. Cannon Ball stood perfectly still, his ears thrown back in a menacing atti- tude and his back humped. Bob stir- red imeasily. He was no longer the jesting cowboy with the twinkling eyes. He had become a harcl-faced, iron- jawed fighter. Cannon Ball ' s four feet left the ground at precisely the same instant. Straight into the air he shot, whirled and then dropped over on his back. Bob jumped in time to avoid the impact. Cannon Ball rolled over. Two sharp, cruel Mexican spurs brought spurts of blood jettying from the horse ' s shoulders. Up he came once more, dropped his head between his legs and began wiping ' er up! He pitched from left to right and from right to left, doubled back, side-winded going high in the air and lighting with crooked, stiff-legged jarring jumps. A rawhide quirt stung long red lashes on his sides. The portion between the horse ' s shoulder and flank was a spur rowel race track. He bucked with greater speed and the rowels dug the deeper. His red, foam-flecked body turned a half moon in the air. With a terrorized bawl he crashed to a stop. Bob dismounted, wiping the dust in- termingled with perspiration from his face with a big bandana handkerchief. He put his arm around the swan-curved neck; from the agressor the cowboy became the sympathizer. After the first few days. Cannon Ball began to see in Bob a friend instead of an enemy. Within a year the horse — as much as his irrational instinct would permit — was in love with his master. MacDonald dropped in one day and stared unbelievingly as the cow- boy put his horse through a series of tricks. But Cannon Ball would have nothing to do with the fat man. He knew one master and only one. Mac swore good naturedly and turned to Bob who was rather absent- mindedly braiding a rope in his horse ' s mane. Say, young fellow, he said, them Greasers on this side o ' the line are rompin somethin awful. The lower

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Cannon Ball Emmett Gleeson. HOT midsummer day prevailed. Over on the opposite hill a coyote, forgetful of his inherit- ance of cowardice, through a stronger in- stinct to satisfy his thirst, braved an approach to a nearby water hole. In the protecting shade of a patch of mesquite lolled two individuals, apparently unaware that the heat waves were taking on a great- er degree of intensity, as they danced over the scorched surface of that bar- ren tract. The one, corpulent and ex- cessively flabby; the other tall, lithe and sinewy, grew too preoccupied in their transaction to admit of any recog- nition of the day ' s warmth. ' ' Now Bob ! ' ' interposed the burly creature, Onct an ' fer all do ya want thet boss? Yuh jewed me down to a hundred an ' a quarter an ' now yuh of- fer a measly lil ole fifty. ' ' He hesitated a moment and glanced at the other hastily. No, by golly! he continued, Any time yuh think thet boss is fer fifty — Fifty ' s the word, Mac, put in Bob eooly and determinedly. Why young feller, thet ' s the best lookin ' cayuse in the country. A hun- dred and a quarter haint nuthin to ast a good jedge fer sich as him. But bein it ' s you Bob, an bein as we alius wuz good Pals I aint goin to let no few dol- lars come atween us. Slip me an even hundred and I ' 11 make yuh a present o ' thet hoss. Why his daddy wuz a steel- dust and his mammy wuz one o ' the — The cowboy lazily stretched his six feet of compact muscle, extracted a gen- erous cud of tobacco and fixing his merry blue eyes on MacDonald, inter- rupted him in his slow Texas drawl. Nope Mac, he said, I reckon ef yuh all won ' t protect my little fifty, I ' d best go look up one o ' them Life Insur- ance agents. Yuh all know that nary a man has ever picked that thar ole banjo for more ' n three jumps. Aw ' ell. Bob, pleaded MacDon- ald, just cause he dumped a few o ' these yere shingle men is no reason why YOU can ' t ride him. MacDonald waddled to the gate of the corral, laboriously hoisted his five by four foot body to the top bar and glared at Cannon Ball. The horse walked quietly around the corral as if awaiting another victim. For a year the name of this beautiful blue roan had been coupled with broken arms and legs, champion riders and unconquera- 15

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THE REDWOOD 17 class are joinin ' the revolution every day. Jist yestidday one o ' them low brows stole a team o ' mules from ole Jedge Carmin. Good jedge o ' mules that man. Returning one day from a long ride, Bob noticed strange t racks in the thick dust directly in front of his gate. He dismounted, opened the gate and bent carelessly over to examine them. They were not the deep boot tracks of a cow- boy nor the broad hob-nails of the miner. While so occupied, he was oblivious of the crouching, sombreroed form in back of him. A knife flashed. Bob crumpled up in a heap and lay still. A black, sore-covered hand quickly dis- possessed the supine form of everything of value. This done, the renegade sprang upon Cannon Ball and rammed into the tender sides of the animal his newly acquired spurs. The horse sprang into the air, whirled and crashed down on his back. There was a sickening crunch, as of flesh, human flesh being ground under the ponderous weight of the enraged animal. Bob ' s eyes fluttered open. Cannon Ball was nosing him inquisitively. By a superior effort the cowboy staggered to his feet. Leaning for support on the gate post, he uncinched the saddle and pulled off the bridle. His hand quiv- ered; blood began to well from his mouth and he sank to the ground. With a last long look at the wonder- ing horse above him, his hard weather- beaten features took on a softer hue. His eyes closed and his mouth curved into a boyish, carefree smile. Good-bye, old Pal, he drawled softly, I reckon I won ' t need yuh all again fer quite a spell.