Louis LAmour - The Proving Trail

The Proving Trail Louis L'Amou r *

Chapter I All Winter Long I Held Them Cattle Up On The Plateau Whilst pa collected my wages down to town. Come firs t grass I taken them cattle down to Dingleberry's an d I told old Ding what he could do with them, that I ha d my fill of playin' nursemaid to a bunch of cows.

He made quite a fuss, sayin' as how pa had hire d me out to him and I'd no choice, bein' a boy not ye t eighteen.

So I told him if he figured I'd no choice, just t o watch the tail end of my horse because I was fetchin' o ut of there. I knew pa was down to town gamblin' , workin' with my money as his base, but pa was a no-a ccount gambler, generally speakin', and couldn't see m to put a winnin' hand together.

Nonetheless he might have enough put by to give m e a road stake, and I could make do with five dollars, i f he had it.

Only when I rode into town pa was dead. He was no t only dead, he was buried, and they'd put a marker o n his grave.

It taken the wind out of me. I just sort of backed of f an' set down. Pa, he was no more than forty, seeme d like, and a man in fair health for somebody who spen t most of his time over a card table.

There was a lot of strangers in town, but one ma n who knowed me and who'd knowed pa, too, he tol d me, "Was I you I'd git straddle of that bronc an' ligh t a shuck. Ain't nothin' around town for you no more , with your pa dead."

"How'd he die? It don't make no sense him dyin' r ight off, like that."

"That's the way folks usually die, son. Everybod y knows he's goin' to die sometime, but nobody reall y expects to. You light out, son. I hear tell they're hirin' m en for work in the mines out in the western part o f the Territory."

"How'd he die?" I persisted.

"Well, seems like he killed hisself. I never did se e the body, mind. But Judge Blazer, he seen it. He sho t hisself. Lost money, I reckon. You know he was alway s gamblin'."

"Hell," I said, disgusted, "he'd not kill himself fo r that! He'd done been losin' money all his life! Tha t man could lose more money than you'd ever see."

"You take my advice, boy, an' you light out. There' s some mighty rough folks in this town an' they won' t take to no wet-eared boy nosin' around."

That couldn't make no sense to me, because I' d been around rough folks all my life. We never ha d nothin', our family didn't, scrabblin' around for whatever it was we could find after ma died an' Pisto l that's my brother taken off. It just left me an' pa, an' w e'd gone from one cow camp or minin' camp to another. Now pa was dead an' I was alone.

Pa wasn't much account, I guess, as men went, bu t he was pa, and a kindly man most of the time. We' d never had much to say to one another but hello o r good-bye or how much money was I holdin'? Nonetheless, he was pa an' I loved him, although that wa s a word we'd have been shamed to use.

Pistol, he was my half brother, ten year older'n me , an' he'd taken off a long time back, six or seven year s back. Pa kind of hinted that Pistol had taken off alon g the outlaw trail but I never did think so. Pistol alway s seemed the kind to ride them straight up the middle.

The Bon Ton was down the street, and I was surel y hard up for grub. I'd been so long without eatin', m y belly was beginning to think my throat was cut, s o I bellied up to a table in the Bon Ton and ordered , thankin' my stars a body could still get him a goo d meal for two bits.

Until I set down there, I'd had no chance to giv e much thought to pa. We'd sort of taken one anothe r for granted, or so it had seemed to me. Now all of a sudden he was gone and there was a great big hol e in my life and an emptiness inside me.

Nothing had ever seemed to go right for pa. A c ouple of times we had ourselves a little two-by-twic e outfit, but the first time it was get run off or fight, a n ma didn't want us to fight so we pulled out. Then th e Comanches run us off the next place, stealin' ou r horses and cows an' leavin' us with a burned-up wago n and no stock. Next time pa was about to make out , ma took sick, and it needed all pa had just for doctor' s bills and such. After that pa took to gamblin' reg'la r and it was all bad cards and slow horses.

Man at the next table was talkin'. "Never seen such a thing," he was sayin', "not in all my born days. Whe n they raised him that last time, he taken out a sixs hooter an' there for a minute nobody knew what wa s going to happen. Then he put that gun down in th e middle of the table. 'Ought to be worth twenty dollars,' h e says, 'and I raise you twenty.'

"Two of them stayed, and when the showdown cam e he was holdin' a full house. Well, sir, that started it!

You never seen the like! The cards began rennin' hi s way and it seemed he couldn't do anything wrong! I f they could have gotten the governor into the game , he'd have owned the Territory! I tell you, he must hav e won eight, maybe ten thousand dollars!"

The waitress brought me beef and beans and fille d my coffee cup. She was a pretty redhead with freckles , and when she leaned over to pour my coffee, I looke d up at her and she whispered, "You be careful! You b e real careful!"

"What's that mean?" I said. "I never said a word."

"I don't mean that. Was I you, I'd fork that roa n of yours and ride right out of town and never even loo k back. Ifn I was you, they'd never see me for the dust."

"Why? What have I done? I ain't been to town fo r months, and no sooner do I ride in than folks star t tellin' me I should leave."

"You better," she warned, and walked away.

Well, I drank some coffee and it tasted mighty good.

Then I went to work on the beef and beans, half-hearin' t he talk at the next table about that card game. "It wa s that six-shooter did it. He'd been losin' steady unti l he staked that six-shooter with the pearl handle and th e little red birds inlaid into the pearl. I declare, I "

Well, I just stopped chewin'. I set there for a ful l minute before I leaned over to that man and said , "Sounds real pretty. Did you say red birds in a pear l handle?"

"That's right! Talk about lucky! That gun worked a charm! Soon's he put up that gun his luck changed an' t here was no stoppin' him."

"Medium-sized man, with a mustache?"

"Had him a mustache, all right, but he was a tall , thin galoot. Wore one of those Prince Albert coats , a black frock coat, y'know." He peered at me. "D'yo u know him?"

"The gun sounds familiar. I got an eye for guns, an d a man wouldn't be likely to forget anything like that."

"He sure was lucky! Won him maybe nine, te n thousand dollars! More'n that, he won the deed t o some big cattle outfit up north. He seemed to mak e all the wrong moves, yet he kept pullin' down the hig h cards."

The other man at the table looked around. "Onl y reason he didn't win all the money in the world wa s because those other fellers didn't have it. He just wo n all they did have. I seen it."

They went back to talkin' amongst themselves, an d I finished what was before me. Meanwhile I did som e thinkin'. Now, I'm not quick to think. I act fast bu t I consider slow. I like to contemplate a subject, turnin' i t on the spit of my mind until I have seen all sides o f it. This here shaped up like plain, old-fashione d trouble.

I was right sorry for pa. rd be sorrier later on, fo r t hings never hit me all of a sudden. Yet maybe I s houldn't be sorry for him, because pa died right a t the peak of the greatest run of luck he'd ever had.

He died winners, and not many gamblers could sa y that. Certainly nobody expected pa to beat the game , but he had. If he had come off that run of luck alive , he'd have lost it all had he continued to gamble. S o he passed out a winner.