|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 83
The outfit of Sweetwater Ranch has gathered for the round-up and
the drive to the railroad. In the absence of her husband, Echo
Payson had assumed complete charge of the ranch, and with the
help of Sage-brush had carried on the work just as she thought
Jack would do, hoping against hope for his return in safety, and
hiding her sorrow from those about her.
Under a clump of cottonwood, a chuck-wagon has halted. Many of
the boys on the round-up are still asleep, the night herders
returning to camp. The cook has started his preparations for
breakfast. His wagon has a covered top like a prairie-schooner.
The tail-board has been lowered to form a table, supported by
rawhide straps. About him are scattered tin cups and kitchen
utensils. A thin spiral of smoke arises from the fire which has
been made in a shallow pit to prevent a spread of flames. The
flickering flashes illumine the cook's face as he bends over a
steaming pot of coffee, and reveal the features of Parenthesis.
Parenthesis is mixing dough in a dish-pan set on the tail-board.
Sage-brush kneels near him, putting on his spurs, preparatory to
saddling up as he goes on the first relief.
"Wake up Texas and the other boys, Fresno," ordered Sage-brush.
The Californian threw away the butt of his cigarette and shook
each man by the shoulder. With much yawning and rubbing of eyes
the men crawled from their sleeping-bags. Dashing cold water
into their faces from a basin beside the water-barrel, they drank
copiously of the coffee which Parenthesis poured out for them.
"Mostly all the boys are in now, ain't they?" asked Parenthesis,
looking about the group.
"Yep," answered Sage-brush, "we'll finish brandin' the calves
to-day. I reckon Fresno will have to take charge of the drive.
I can't leave the ranch until Jack gets back."
Show Low was the only sleeper who had not responded to
Parenthesis' call. That worthy walked over and gave him a kick
which brought forth a grunt but no other sign of an awakening.
Returning to the fire, Parenthesis took a tin cup and poured
himself out a cup of coffee.
"Heard any word from him yet?" he asked, as he gulped the
beverage.
"Nothin'," replied Sage-brush grimly. "Slim wrote from Fort
Grant he was on the trail, but the 'Paches were out an' they
wouldn't let him leave the fort till the soldiers went with him."
"Slim hadn't oughter gone and left things the way he did. Buck
McKee is gettin' a lot of bad men together, and 'lows he is goin'
to run for sheriff himself," growled Fresno.
"He's sure got a tough outfit with him; Slim being away ain't
doin' us any good. All the rustlers from Texas an' New Mexico
came trailin' into the country just as soon as they heard he was
gone. Won't surprise me if we have a run in with the bunch afore
we git through with this round-up."
"I got my eye on that Peruna," interjected Fresno.
"Peruna! who's he?" asked Texas.
"One of Buck's outfit," answered Fresno. "He is mighty slick
with the runnin'-iron and brandin' other folks' calves."
"We can't be too careful," warned Sage-brush. "Things is
strained to the bustin'-point, and any promise of gun-play is
goin' to set off a whole lot of fireworks."
Show Low was on the verge of waking up. This he did, by
gradually increasing the volume of each snore and breaking it off
with a whistle.
At the very moment Sage-brush suggested gun-play, Show Low snorted
his loudest.
"What's that?" asked Sage-brush, grabbing his revolver.
"Show Low. He's a regular brass band when he gets started--from
the big trombone down to the tin whistle," laughed Fresno.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|