who did this to you but whoever it was did me a favor. If you were anyone but a farmer I might try and help. But not you.” And with that remark he got back onto his horse and rode away. And thus the poor farmer who so desperately needed help, who need ed someone to be a good neighbor to him, was left lying in the hot sun. His wounds were bleeding and his head was all swollen from the blow received when he landed on the rock. His team of horses, still hitched to the wagon, was tangled up in a clump of small trees nearby. A bout the middle of the afternoon a Mr. Meaney, a cattle buyer, came along. He was on his way to Mr. Hardman’s ranch to look at some cows he wanted to buy. He was in somewhat of a hurry. Many miles still separated him from his destination and he wanted to get there before dark. But seeing a man lying there in the road, he did stop to see what was wrong. Soon as he took a good look he realized it was a farmer. Well, he didn’t have any use for farmers. He was just like the other two men before him. And anyway, he excused himself to his conscience, he didn’t have the time to offer help. So Mr. Meaney rode off, leaving the farmer to die. The sun had dropped down al most out of sight. The coolness of the oncoming night was bringing some relief from the heat of the day. Mr. Goodman regained con sciousness, and for a moment tried to figure out what had happened and where he was. His wounds ached so that he groaned with pain. He had a hazy recollection of shots. He had no idea who fired them. But he was pretty sure it had to be one of the big ranchers. How could he ever get to town or home or any place for that matter. Looked like he was done for. But where there is life, there is always hope. So he prayed, “ Oh God, oh God, please, for the sake of my dear wife and my children, please send some one along who will help me.” Boys and girls, you’ll be real glad to learn that God answered the farmer’s prayer that evening. Mr. Goodman needed help, really need ed help, when I happened to come along. I’d been down in the Big Springs country visiting my moth
er. And I was on my way to Silver City, up north. Word had come to me that I was needed to give a hand to a friend of mine who was the sheriff in those parts. I had fig ured on spending the night on Crooked Creek if my horse Deerfoot was tired, otherwise we’d go on to Stagecoach Junction. Y ou can imagine how surprised I was on arrival at Crooked Creek to find a man who was almost dead. He was really in bad shape. Sort of delirious. Out of his mind. Saying things that didn’t make sense. But as I listened I did make out that he was on his way to town to get supplies. He’d been shot and robbed. Well I knew what it was all about. I knew by his clothes that he was a farmer. And I knew without be ing told that some big rancher had done this. I bathed the man’s face and wounds, tied them up the best I could and told him to try and rest while I got the team and wag on. When he saw that I was going to help him he showed signs of big relief. He even gave me a little smile. Before long I had the team and wagon by his side. Then I made a bed on the bottom of the wagon by folding up some blankets the farmer had along. It was quite a struggle for me to get him into that wagon. But finally I had him stretched out on the blankets, and with my horse tied to the back of the wagon we were on our way. It was past midnight when we got into Stagecoach Junction. The town was what we might call asleep. I pulled up in front of the one and only hotel. I aroused the clerk and told him I had a man in the wagon that had to have a doctor right away. He told me where to go. I rushed to the doctor’s house, and after considerable banging on the door, he came to the door. Upon hearing my story he asked me to bring the man into his office and lay him on a cot. This I did. Then while the doctor was taking care of Mr. Goodman, I took the team and my horse over to the livery bam. There I had the horses taken care of for the night. The team, I told the man, might be there for several days. My horse I’d be tak ing out before noon tomorrow. I told the man I’d pay for the team
COW-COUNTRY FARMER murmured to himself, “ I’ll teach you a lesson once and for all. May be it’ll serve to warn anybody else that might ever get the idea of set tling on a farm in cattle country.” H ardman spurred his horse and galloped round the backside of the hill that separated him from the farmer. He didn’t want to be seen. Then he waited until Mr. Goodman was driving his team through the brush that grew along the water’s edge of Crooked Creek. Then as soon as the horses got near the wa ter’s edge, Hardman started shoot ing wild and reckless. He didn’t really want to kill the farmer but if he did, well, it wouldn’t matter. By the time his gun was emptied, one of the bullets had hit Mr. Good man in the shoulder and another hit his leg. The horses, frightened by the shooting, leaped forward, jerking the wagon and Mr. Good man caught unawares, was thrown out of the wagon. He fell headfirst, hit a rock and landed into the water. He was knocked uncon scious. Unless he was pulled out of the creek, it was likely he’d drown. Mr. Hardman galloped his horse up to the farmer’s side. For a mo ment he was undecided as to what to do. Then he got off his horse and dragged the half-dead Mr. Goodman onto the other side of the creek bank. There he turned the body face up and said, “ Serves you right. You should have stayed where you and all your kind be long. If you come out of this, may be you’ll realize we mean business around here.” Then he stooped down and searched the farmer’s pockets. He found the money which well may have been all the farmer had to his name and with which he was going to buy supplies at Stagecoach Junction. He stuck it in his own pocket remarking, “ I don’t think you’ll be needing this any more.” Then he got on his horse and gal loped away. Some two hours later a Mr. Bit- teroot, another big rancher, came along. He too was on his way to Stagecoach Junction. When he came onto Mr. Goodman, he stopped his horse and got off to see who it was. “ Oh, so it’s you. Well, I don’t know
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THE KING'S BUSINESS
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