If my remarks don't
perculate right smart I'll explain."
Mr. Travennes looked down the street again, saw number five added to
the line-up, and coughed up chunks of broken profanity, grieving his
host by his lack of courtesy.
"Time," announced Mr. Cassidy, interrupting the round. "I wants them
cayuses an' I wants `em right now. Yu an' me will amble off an' get
`em. I won't bore yu with tellin' yu what'll happen if yu gets
skittish. Slope along an' don't be scared; I'm with yu," assured Mr.
Cassidy as he looked over at Mr. Connors, whose ascetic soul pined for
the flapjacks of which his olfactories caught intermittent whiffs.
"Well, Red, I reckons yu has got plenty of room out here for all yu
may corral; anyhow there ain't a whole lot more. My friend Slim an' I
are shore going to have a devil of a time if we can t find them cussed
bronchs. Whew, them flapjacks smell like a plain trail to payday. Just
think of th' nice maple juice we used to get up to Cheyenne on them
frosty mornings."
"Get out of here an' lemme alone! `What do yu allus want to go an'
make a feller unhappy for? Can't yu keep still about grub when yu
knows I ain't had my morning's feed yet?" Asked Mr. Connors, much
aggrieved.
"Well, I'll be back directly an' I'll have them cayuses or a scalp.
Yu tend to business an' watch th' herd. That shorthorn yearling at th'
end of th' line"-pointing to a young man who looked capable of taking
risks-"he looks like he might take a chance an' gamble with yu,"
remarked Mr.
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