The H&R Cattle Company by Doug Bowman Page A

wandering around the town now was out of the question.
    Supper at Mrs. Lindsay’s the following night was truly something that Rollins would remember. He told her many colorful stories about his childhood, while she talked of long-ago times when her family had first come to Texas. Neither of them mentioned the land that was the uppermost thought in Bret’s mind. As he was leaving, she walked him to his horse. She was still thinking about the property, she said, and would have her caretaker contact him at the hotel when she had reached a decision.
    The thought crossed Bret’s mind that perhaps she was just stalling for time while she had him checked out. But she had not asked for the name of the orphanage in New Orleans or for the names of the businessmen in Dallas. Without that information, checking out his story would not be so easy. New Orleans was a big town, and there would surely be several orphanages in the area. Anyway, if Mrs. Lindsay began to cross-examine him too closely, Bret was prepared to chuck the whole idea and seek his fortune elsewhere.
    He stayed in or close to the hotel for the next three days, leaving his room only to stretch his legs or get something to eat. He had just returned from the restaurant on Sunday night when the desk clerk handed him a message: Mrs. Lindsay’s caretaker had come by, saying that the lady wanted to see Rollins at her home tomorrow morning. Bret put the written message in his pocket and hurried to his room.
    He slept fitfully during the night and was up at the break of dawn. He ate breakfast at the restaurant, then reread yesterday’s newspaper while waiting for the barber shop to open. After a bath and a shave, he dressed in his new suit and headed for the Lindsay home.
    She met him at the gate, powdered and dressed expensively. “If you’ll hitch up the buggy and drive me to town, we’ll fix up the papers on that property.”
    An hour later, at the Parker County Courthouse, the lady deeded the Silver Springs property to Bret Rollins for the sum of one dollar. “I’ve been gauging people for eighty-one years,” she said, “and I know a good man when I see one. I hadn’t been around you more than five minutes before I decided that you were a man who could be depended on to do the right thing. If you need any more assistance, don’t hesitate to call on me.”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Lindsay. The land will certainly be used for a good cause.” He put the deed in his coat pocket, then drove the lady home.
    Two hours later, Bret visited Rex Allgood at the saloon. “I’m the new owner of the Silver Springs property, Rex, and I could be persuaded to part with it. Do you suppose you can get word to your father-in-law?”
    Allgood nodded. “I can send a rider out there, but why don’t you just ride to the ranch yourself?”
    Rollins shook his head. “Any business I do with Mister Hollingsworth will be conducted in my hotel room. I’m at the Palace, room two-ten.”
    Allgood was busy pouring himself a drink. He returned the bottle to the shelf. “I’ll get a man out there with the message this afternoon. Probably be noon tomorrow before the old man can make it, though.”
    â€œThat’s fine,” Rollins said. “Have your rider tell him that I’ll be expecting him at noon.” He bought a shot of whiskey, then left the building.
    Right on time, Rollins heard a knock at his door next day. He had put the broadcloth suit away and was now dressed in jeans and flannel shirt. “Be with you in a minute,” he shouted, then waited two minutes before opening the door. As he expected, Cliff Hollingsworth stood in the hall, scowling somewhat less than at their last meeting.
    â€œWhy, Mister Hollingsworth,” Bret said, flashing a toothy smile, “what a surprise. Won’t you come in?” He closed the door behind his visitor and reseated himself in the