Chapter 2 2. Hidden Black Bill

Chapter One A strong, long-haired, red-faced man sat on the platform of Los Pianos station shaking his legs back and forth.He had a Wellington mouth and small sharp eyes softened by pale yellow lashes.Beside him sat another man, fat and sad, in rags, who seemed to be his friend.From their appearance, life seems to be a reversible garment with seams on both sides. Haven't seen you for more than four years, Herm said in rags, where have you been? Texas, said the red-faced one, I think Alaska is too cold and Texas is warm.Well, let me tell you about an incident I experienced during that hot day.

That morning, I woke up and left the International Building's cistern without the bums wandering around it.This is a pastoral area with more homeless people than New York City.Here, you live 20 miles apart from each other, not in buildings where windows are 2 inches from window to window, so you can't smell people cooking something good. There are no roads, so I walk through the countryside.The grass is only as deep as the top of your feet.The mesquite grove is like a peach orchard, like a gentleman's private estate, where every minute a pack of ferocious dogs may come out to bite you.I must have walked twenty miles before I saw a ranch house, a little house about the size of an elevated railway station.

A short man in a white shirt and overalls with a pink handkerchief around his neck was rolling a cigarette under a tree in front of the door. Hello, I said, what do you want to drink?Anything, money or work for you? Oh, come in, he said in an overly refined tone, please sit on that stool.I didn't hear your hooves. The horse hasn't arrived yet, but I'm walking.I don't want to trouble you, just want to know if I can get a few gallons of water from here. You're dusty, he said, but a bath has been arranged I just need to drink water, I said, and the dirt on my clothes is okay.

He gave me a long spoonful of water from a hanging red jar, and continued: Are you looking for a job? Temporary need, I said, it's a very quiet country, isn't it? Yes, he said, sometimes people tell me I don't see a single person for weeks.I have been here for a month.I bought this ranch from a local who was moving to Darcy. I love this place, I say, sometimes it's nice to be quiet and relax.I need a job where I can tend a bar, a salt mine, arrange presentations, drift wood, or do some foul play at a medium-sized football game, and I can play the piano. Can you herd sheep?asked the short rancher.

Are you asking if I let go of the sheep?I asked. Can you herd a flock of sheep?he asks. Oh, I said, now I see, you want me to drive the sheep and bark at them like a shepherd dog.OK, I can do it.I said, I've never really herded sheep, but I've seen them graze through the window of my car, and they're gentle animals. I'm looking for a sheep herder, said the rancher, Mexicans are never reliable, and I only have two flocks.If you want, you can release the flock every morning, there are only 800 of them.The monthly salary is 12 US dollars, including food.Your camp is on the prairie where the sheep live.You have to cook your own food, wood and water are brought to you.It's an easy job.

Well, I agree, I said, though I'm not too fond of the picture of the shepherd boy holding the shepherd's hook, disheveled and playing the reed pipe.I decided to take the job anyway. So the next morning the little rancher and I drove the sheep from the corral to graze on the hills in the prairie two miles away.He exhorted and exhorted, don't let the sheep leave the flock, drive them to the waterhole to drink water at noon, and so on. I'll bring you your tent, your camping tools, and your food in a wagon before dark.He said. Well, I said, don't forget to bring food, don't forget to bring camping tools, and remember to bring tents.Your name is Zhurikov, right?

My name is Henry.Ogden. All right, Mr. Ogden, I say, you call me Pashwar.Sainte.Mr Keller. After five days of grazing at Rankeguito Ranch, my mind is full of wool.My life as a shepherd has certainly brought me a strong connection to nature.I am lonelier than Robinson Robinson's sheep.I now understand that it is much more fun to have many people by your side than many sheep.Every night, I have to drive them back to the corral and close them, then make cornbread, cook lamb chops, make coffee, and then lie in a tent the size of a tablecloth, listening to the wolves howling around the camp and the shepherd singing for their courage .

On the fifth night, after I swallowed the expensive but not delicious lamb chops, I walked into the rancher's house. Mr. Ogden, you and I need more interaction.Flocks can adorn the earth, and wool can provide humans with $8 cotton coats, but for tabletop conversations and fireside companions, they can only be served on the table with 5 o'clock tea.Hey, if you have a deck of cards, or, or a cultured man's game.I have to do something that a scholar does, if only it burns me out. This Henry.Ogden is a very special rancher.He had rings on his hands, a large gold watch on his wrist, and a tie neatly tied around his neck.There is no expression on his face, and the glasses on his nose are always bright.I once saw a picture of a man who broke the law in Mashkozy, he killed six people, this murderer was very similar to Ogden, but I saw a missionary in Arkansas, you would think that this missionary also resembled Ogden resembles like two brothers.In short, I didn't really think about which one he looked like. What I needed was companionship and communication between people, whether it was with a saint or a fugitive as long as it wasn't a sheep.

Sainte.Keller, he put down the book he was reading, said, I think you must feel quite lonely at this stage in the beginning, and I don’t deny that this kind of life is also monotonous for me.Are you sure that you have driven all the sheep into the corral and locked them up so that they won't escape? It was as tight as a prison for millionaire murderers, and I was soon back with them, who needed trained care. So Ogden turned over a card and we played casino.After five days and nights of camping with sheep, it was like boozing on Broadway.When I got a big card, I was as excited as if I had made a million in Sunny Tit.Ogden lightened up, and I laughed for five minutes as he told a story about a lady in a Pullman car.

What an incredible thing life is!After a man has seen too much of the world, he would not even pay him three million dollars if he were to go on a long journey to visit Weber or to see the Adriatic Sea.And let him shepherd the sheep, he would laugh at the words that Colfer will not call tonight, or he would concentrate on playing cards with the lady. Then Ogden brought out a bottle of thin-necked whiskey and we completely forgot about the sheep. Do you remember the story in the papers a month ago, he said, about the robbery of the Kate train in May?The freight forwarder was shot through the shoulder and about 15,000 in cash was stolen.And it is said that all this was done by only one person.

It's kind of like what I do.I say, but these things happen so often that Texans forget quickly.Did they give chase and catch the robber?Or is there any clue? He escaped, said Ogden, and I just read in the paper today that the police have tracked down our country.The money obtained by the robbers seems to be banknotes issued by the Second National Bank of Isbinmansha.Therefore, the police chased here according to the route of these banknotes. Ogden poured another whiskey and pushed the bottle towards me. I guessed, taking a sip of the high-end wine, I said, that it is entirely possible for a roadster to go to such a country and hide for a while.The sheep ranch is the best place now, and who would go to such a place of singing birds and flowers to search for such a madman?By the way, looking Ogden up and down, I asked, did the papers mention the lone criminal's appearance?His features, height, weight, whether he has dentures or his clothes? No, Ogden said, because they said no one ever saw him, and he was always wearing a mask.But they knew he was a car bandit, named Black Bill, because he dropped a handkerchief with his name on it in the express car. Well, I think Black Bill is right to go to the sheep ranch, I don't think they'll find him. Catch him and there will be a thousand dollar reward.Ogden said. I don't want that kind of money, I said, looking straight into Mr. Shepherd's eyes, twelve dollars a month is enough for me.I need a break.I can save until I have enough to go back to Tekakana, where my widowed mother lives.If Black Bill, I looked at him meaningfully and continued, came here, that is, bought a small sheep farm a month ago, and. Say no more, Ogden got up from his chair, looking menacing, are you implying No, I'm not hinting at anything.I'm assuming a provocative example.I mean, if Black Bill came up here and bought a sheep ranch and hired me as a shepherd boy and treated me as fair and friendly as you treat me, he wouldn't have to be wary of me at all.Whatever troubled relationship he has had with sheep or with trains, he is human.Now you should know my attitude. Chapter two Ogden's face was as black as his camp coffee for a moment, then he smiled and said jokingly, "Okay, Sainter.Keller, if I were Black Bill, I would definitely trust you.Tonight we'll play one or two rounds at seven, that is, if you dare play cards with car bandits. As I have told you verbally, the police have no clue. After the first game, when I was shuffling the deck, I pretended not to ask Ogden where he was from. Oh, from the Mississippi Valley. It's a lovely little place, I said, and I go there a lot.But I don’t know if you have noticed, but there, the sheets are always a bit damp, and the food is poor.This time, I'm coming from Pacific Slopes.Have you ever lived there? It was too dry out there, Ogden said, but if you mentioned my name in the Midwest, people would treat you well, send you a heater, and drink nice drip coffee. Well, I said, I didn't really mean to ask for your personal phone number, or the name of your aunt who was comfortable with the Presbyterian minister of Camen Berland, those are meaningless.I just want you to know that you are safe with your shepherd boy.Hey, don't beat hearts into spades, don't be nervous. You keep nagging, Ogden laughed, and asked me, did you ever think that if I were Black Bill and I knew you were suspicious of me, I would put a Winchester bullet in your brain to relieve myself , if I'm really nervous. You don't do that.That's not the kind of thing a man would do if he's always worried about whether the criminal on the train will get caught.I'm a homeless person and know homeless people well, they value friendship.Now I can't claim to be your friend, Mr. Ogden, I said, now I'm just your hired shepherd boy, but in more urgent cases we will certainly be friends. Forget about sheep for a moment, I beg you, said Ogden, don't talk about it. About four days later, at noon, the sheep were drinking at the watering hole, and I was concentrating on making a pot of coffee. A mysterious figure, wearing a uniform that could reveal his identity, was riding slowly towards me on the grass. .He was dressed like Buffalo, the big Kansas detective.Bill, like the Baton Rouge baseball player.His chin and eyes are not warlike, so, I believe, he is only a detective. Herding sheep?he ask me. Hey, I say, to you troublemakers, I don't have the energy to tell you if I'm decorating monumental bronzes or oiling bicycle chains. I don't think you look like a shepherd boy in your speech or appearance.He said. But I hear you talk just as your appearance gives the impression.I said. Then he asked me who I was tending the sheep for, and I pointed to the Ranchoguito Ranch in the shadow of a hill two miles away, and he told me he was the Acting Sheriff. A car robber named Black Bill might have gone into the area, the detective said, and the police chased him as far as San Antonio, and maybe beyond.Have you seen any strangers here this month? No, I said, just heard a rumor about Fleo from a man at the Mexican residence in Lumins Ranch. What do you know about him?asked the Acting Sheriff. He was only three days old.I said. So what does your master look like?Does this place still belong to old George Remy, he asked?He has managed the ranch for ten years without success. The old man sold the ranch long ago and went west.I told him that another sheep expert had bought his entire ranch a month earlier. what does he look likeasked the sheriff. Oh, a tall, fat Dutchman.Beard, wearing blue glasses.I don't think he can tell the difference between a sheep and a squirrel, and I reckon old George blew him a lot of the business. The detective, having obtained the information he needed in a very casual conversation, and sharing most of my supper, mounted his horse and rode away. That night, I told Ogden about it. Any flakes and half-claws about Black Bill they'll collect, I said. Then I told Ogden about the sheriff, how I described it to him, and what the sheriff said about it. Well, said Ogden, let's leave Black Bill alone, we've got plenty of work to do ourselves.Get the wine out of the cupboard, and let's toast his health if, he said, with a chuckle, you're not prejudiced against the car bandit. I'd like to drink to anyone who treats me like a friend.I believe in Black Bill, I went on, that's who he is.For Black Bill, do it!Good luck to him. We both drank it all in one gulp. Two weeks later, it was time for shearing.Gotta get the sheep out to pasture, lots of dirty Mexicans will be shaving the wool off the sheep with shaving shears.In the afternoon, before the barbers arrived, I drove my young sheep over hills, across valleys, and north along the creek to the pasture.I put them in the corral, and said good night to them, as I do every night. I went from the corral to the house and found Henry.Mr. Ogden, he was still fast asleep on the cot.I thought, either he couldn't sleep last night, or he was lethargic, or he was tired and sick from too many things on the ranch.His mouth was open, his vest was open, and he breathed like an old bicycle pump.I look at him and think, that's how Julius Caesar sleeps, but Caesar might keep his mouth shut so the wind doesn't get in his belly. The sight of a person sleeping soundly is sure to move even an angel.How real were his intellect, his flesh, his interior, his countenance, his influence, and his blood ties!Even his enemies take pity on him, let alone his friends.It was as pleasant a sight as the cab horses leaning against the Metropolitan Theater at twelve-thirty in the morning dreaming of the plains of Arabia.However, with a sleeping woman, you think differently, no matter how she looks, you will think that this is a good time for men to take advantage of her. I drank a glass of wine and prepared another for Ogden.I'm starting to feel better, and he hasn't woken up yet.Books on natural subjects, such as "Japan", "Drainage", "Sports" and tobacco leaves were placed on the table, which seemed incongruous. I smoked for a while, listening to Ogden's sewing-machine breathing.When I happened to look out of the window, I saw a half-way path at the sheep-shearing corral leading to another half-way path in the distance, which crossed what seemed to be a small river. It is not a small inlet of a small river. Five men rode up the path from the road towards the pasture.They all had guns across their saddles, and the sheriff I was talking to at the camp that day was among them. They rode discreetly up to the house, in spread formation, guns in hand, and by observation I discerned that the troublemaker of the five edict-enforcing cavalry was the chief. Good evening, gentlemen, I said, are you jogging? The chief rode forward, brandishing his gun, and the muzzle seemed to be on my whole forehead. Don't move unless you answer all the questions I ask you properly. I will.I am neither deaf nor dumb, so there is no need to disobey your orders. We're looking for Black Bill, $15,000 robbed of the Kate wagon in May.We're going to search all the ranches and everyone on the ranches.What's your name and what do you do at the ranch? Sir, my occupation is Pashwar.Sainte.Keller, my name is shepherd boy, my herd of calves tonight No, the sheep are shut here.The wool suitors come to cut them tomorrow and I think there will be baa, baa. Where is the owner of the ranch?the boss asked me. Wait, sir, let me say, did you just say that whoever reports that crazy person will get a reward? A thousand-dollar reward, the officer replied, but referring to capture or certainty of capture, was probably unlikely to be paid to the person who reported the rumor. It seems to be raining in the past two days, I looked up at the blue sky and said wearily. If you know Hebir's residence, hiding place or other secrets here and don't report it, he said seriously, you are breaking the law. I heard a fencer say, and I spoke in a nonchalant tone, that he heard a Mexican tell the story of a cow boy named Jack near the Bishing warehouse over at Luises Ranch, two weeks ago, in Matamo A shepherd in North saw Black Bill. Listen, shut your mouth, the boss looked me up and down like a businessman, and said, if your news gets us a head start on Black Bill, I'll take a hundred dollars out of my pockets out of the five of us for you.That's generous enough, he said, how about it?You won't have any other rewards. Pay cash now?I asked. The boss turned to discuss with his assistants for a while. They figured out how to take money out of their respective pockets. There were a total of 102 dollars and 30 cents in cash and 31 cents worth of flat tobacco pieces. Come closer, sir, I said, listen to me, he took a step forward. I am the poorest, most insignificant person in the world.I make twelve dollars a month and my job is to keep a bunch of animals together that just want to run around.Although, I say, I feel better about myself than I did in South Dakota, it's a social downfall for a guy who before that knew only lamb chops but not sheep.I'm nowhere near where I am now, far removed from my vain ideals, rum, and cocktails.The cocktail was made along the river from Pennsylvania to Rhode Island, and was shipped all the way from Scranton, Pennsylvania to Cincinnati, Ohio, for gin, French vermouth, lime juice, and It is infused with the right amount of bitter orange juice.If you come across this wine, be sure to try it.Also, let me tell you that I have never betrayed a friend.I was with them when they were rich, and I never forsook them when disaster struck. However, a salary of twelve dollars a month is not enough to be a friend. It can only be called the wages of nodding acquaintances, and the food of black beans and cornbread cannot be called friendship.I am a poor man and I have a widowed mother who lives in Tekacana and I said you can find Black Bill sleeping on a cot in a room to your right in this house .I know from what he said and chatted with me that he is the one you are looking for.He's treated me well enough, I explained, that if I had lived the way I used to, I wouldn't have betrayed him if I had been tempted with all the Gondana property.But, I said, half of the black beans he gave me every week were moth-eaten, and there was not enough firewood for camping and shepherding sheep. Gentlemen, you'd better be careful, I said, for he's sometimes irascible, and when you go in, think of his expertise last time, and it's just bad luck for anyone if he shows up out of the blue. So, this group of people got off the horse, tied the horse, took the gun and bullets from the horse's back, and walked into the house on tiptoe.I followed, just as Delilah betrayed Samson to the Philistines. The boss shook Ogden awake, and he jumped up, but two bribed hunters caught him.His small stature fought back hard against the group.I have never seen such a beautiful scuffle. What are you going to do?Ogden asked after being caught by them. You got caught by us, Mr. Black Bill, that's all, said the boss. What an outrage!Ogden was even crazier. It was an outrage, said the good-humoured chief, the Kate train let you go, but the law won't let a man who robs a train go. He sat on Ogden's chest, searching his pockets carefully and purposefully. I want you to pay for it, said Ogden, sweating. I want you to understand who I am. I'll prove to you who you are right now, Boss pulls out of Ogden's underwear pocket a handful of new banknotes issued by the Second National Bank of Hispenosa, your engraved Tuesday|Friday regular visit The cards couldn't be more telling than the cash bills lying around here.Now rise up and prepare to go with us, to serve your sentence. Ogden stood up and straightened his tie.He said nothing after they seized the money from him. third chapter An intoxicatingly beautiful idea, said the sheriff admiringly, to slip off the beaten track and buy a little ranch, the best hiding place I know. One of the five men went to the shearing place and found a shepherd named John.The Mexican of Cyrus, let him saddle Ogden's horse.All five mounted their horses, guns in hand, and surrounded Ogden tightly, ready to lead him on the road. Before leaving, Ogden entrusted the ranch to John.Cyrus, tell him about the sheep-shearing and where to go to tend the sheep, as if he'd be back in a few days.Two hours later, people saw Pashwar.Sainte.Keller, the ex-herdsman of Rankechiguito Ranch, with one hundred and ninety dollars in his pocket, his salary and the exchange for selling Ogden, rode another horse belonging to Rankechiguito Ranch, Headed south. The red-faced man kept his mouth shut, listening to the valley echoing the rumble of the lorry roaring from afar. Sitting next to him, the ragged fat man sniffed and shook his dirty head slowly and contemptuously. What's the matter?The long-billed bird asked with a red face, feeling sad again? NO, I have not.The Ragged One sniffed again and said, but, I don't like your behavior.You and I have been friends for many years, off and on, for fifteen years.I've never known or heard of you betraying anyone to the law. None of them.For such a person, you eat his baking soda bread and play a card game with him on the table, which is called a casino game.You tipped off to the police and got paid for betraying him.This is nothing like what you do. This Ogden, continued the red-faced man, got a lawyer, was exonerated by an alibi and other legal means, and was set free.This is what I heard later.He suffered nothing.Really, he's treated me well, and I wouldn't have betrayed him. And what about the bills they found in his pocket?the Ragged Man asked. While he was asleep, I saw a group of people riding towards the house, and I put the money in his pocket.Redface said, Black Bill is actually me.look!Toucan, here comes the train, and while it fills up with water, we climb up the bumper.