the Drift Fence (1992) by Zane Grey Read Free Book Online Page B

at me. Then our neighbour hired me to do the same for his place.
    Through that I got other jobs, and I was making good money when your letter came."
    "Wal, I'll be dog-goned!" ejaculated the rancher. "Plantin' trees, an' cottonwoods at that. Son, it was a darn good idee."
    Jim thanked his lucky stars he had confided something he had been afraid his uncle would think trivial.
    "Wal, so much for Missouri," went on Traft. "You're here in Arizona now.
    Reckon I might have wrote you all about what I want and hope. But it wouldn't have been fair to you or me. Fact is I couldn't have said all I need to in a letter. Your dad would have throwed a fit. I reckoned it'd be better to get face to face an' have it out. Don't you figger that way, too?"
    "I certainly do, Uncle, especially if it's as big and hard a job as I imagine. And if it's really true that you have made me your heir."
    "Wal, naturally, all I have would go to your dad an' you. But that's not the question."
    "It's a serious part of it for me," declared Jim, bravely. "I appreciate your kindness, Uncle Jim, but if I can't make good as a rancher--well, I don't want the property."
    "Ahuh, I see. Wal, reckon your dad never guessed that." Jim felt the piercing intensity of eyes like a pale blue gleam, yet not lacking understanding. "However, what becomes of my property ain't the main issue with me. Blood is thicker than water. An' under any circumstances I'd want my only kin to have what I left."
    "Then, Uncle, what is the main issue?" queried Jim, anxiously. "Wal, I reckon it's I want you to be as near a son to me as possible."
    "That's easy, Uncle, if it depends on sincerity and affection and obedience."
    "They'll help, but it depends most on what I said in my letter. Guts!"
    "I remember, and that worried me. But I hope I have some."
    "Jim, the job I want you to take is the hardest in the West."
    "I don't care. The harder the better," declared Jim, answering the stimulation of doubt. "I always told dad that I needed responsibility. He never gave me any. The fact that you will put responsibility on my shoulders is half of the battle right now."
    "Son, that's straight talk," returned his uncle, nodding his head thoughtfully. "An' I liked the way you spoke up to Ring Locke. If he took a shine to you it'd help a lot... But, Jim, the hell of it is no rancher who knows' the West ought ever to give a tenderfoot from the East such a job."
    "Why not?"
    "Wal, I reckon because of natural human feelin's. But I'm just bull-headed enough to want a Traft an' nobody else to take my place."
    "If you were a young man, Uncle, could you take care of this job?" asked Jim curiously.
    "Yes. An' I reckon I could do it yet."
    "All right, then," returned Jim, feeling his face blanch. "I'll commit myself here. I'll do it."
    "Fine! I like your spirit, son," exclaimed Traft, warmly, and a smile transformed his hard lined face. "Now listen. I'm runnin' eight thousand head of cattle, mebbe more. But we can never get a count. That's a lot of stock, Jim. Figger out the value at forty dollars a head, which is a low estimate. Wal, I lose from a thousand head up every year. Most of this loss can be laid to cattle thieves. It has gradually growed worse an' has begun to rile me. I used to laugh at this two-bit rustlin'. But it's no good deceivin' myself any longer. The thing is serious. I've reason to believe Ring Locke knows it's worse than he'll tell me. Anyway, he's the best-posted cowman on the range.--Blodgett runs a big lot of cattle. So does Hep Babbitt. They're all losin' stock, too."
    "Uncle Jim, this is bad," declared Jim, in surprise. "It's almost like the rustler stories you told me when I was a kid."
    "Son, if I don't miss my guess you'll shore live one of them stories," responded Traft, with a grim laugh.
    "You're being robbed, but you don't know where the cattle go?" queried Jim, ignoring the start his uncle's statement gave him.
    "Humph! We know darn well where they're gain'."
    "Where?"
    "South of