Rhizomania, or The Cavalry Gun

Shorty, riding ahead, turned in the saddle to regard the younger man. “Doran, you ought to go down and speak to Mr. Nemecek about that girl Barbara. If you had a wife, we could eat good.” “If she knows how to cook,” said Doran. “Was Winnie a good cook?” “Took blue ribbons at fair time every year,” said Shorty. “She’d take a ham and stick it all over with these little black things.“ “What were they?” said Doran. “Some kind of spice,” said Shorty. “They smelled good. And she’d slather honey on the meat, and I don’t know what else. I tell you what, I miss that good ham.” They rode in silence for a bit. Looking at the shrubs among the long prairie grass, Doran saw that the scarce bits of green and purple had almost disappeared, leaving the flat landscape greenish-brown. The cottonwood saplings, few and far-between, still had their heart-shaped leaves. Tiny bits of white and pink, showed where patches of asters and ironweed still thrived. But the loss of color meant that Neb

“Your brother works for Sayre,” said Doran. “Sayre pays Cesario good because my brother can speak Spanish and English both. Cesario keeps the Mexicans behaving like Sayre wants. But what Sayre don’t realize –” Jorge grinned, swaying, and wagged the forefinger of his damaged hand. “What he don’t re-al-ize, is that a Mexican man is a smart man. How he think we got all the way up here from Cuernavaca and Guadalajara and Tijuana? That’s a long way.  The Mexican man is a smart man, yes he is.” Jorge hiccuped. “Cesario sees all Sayre’s tricks. Animals got sick, and Sayre’s men put them through the fence and they say the steer was poisoned.” “That’s how he done us,” said Shorty, thoughtfully. “He’s going to send me a bill for some of his expensive Dexters that he thinks we gave poison to.” “See his way?” said Jorge. “This was he don’t lose money on the sick ones, if he can make you pay, and then when he tries to get your land, he feels it is a right thing, because you have attacke

“Our families go back a ways,” said Shorty. “And I know your mama and daddy. We got some of the same problems, wouldn't you say so? We all get shoved around by the ones that have the money and the big say-so, ain’t that true?” “I guess,” said Jorge slowly, squinting and trying to focus. I’m going to rely on you,” Shorty said.“I know you’re the kind of man who will give me the honest word if I ask for it.” “All us Lujans are honest,” said Jorge, looking down at the broken matchsticks scattered among the tufts of prairie grass. “Everyone around here knows that's the truth," said Shorty, looking at Doran. Doran nodded. "So," Shorty continued, "you don’t think your brother was the one that jumped him” — Shorty indicated Doran with a callused thumb — “last night?” “Cesario never hit nobody in his life,” said Jorge. “He don’t believe in it.” “He don’t  believe  in it?” asked Shorty. “That’s right,” said Jorge. He cleared his throat and spat,