? Very well; I want these herds grazed
across to Buford at the rate of four miles a day. Nothing but a Mexican
pastor, or a white man as lazy as Quince Forrest can fill the bill.
You're listening, are you, Quince? Well, after the sun sets to-night,
you're in charge of ten thousand beeves from here to the mouth of the
Yellowstone. I want to put every ounce possible on those steers for the
next twenty days. We may have to make a comparison of cattle, and if we
should, I want ours to lay over the opposition like a double eagle
does over a lead dime. We may run up against a lot of red tape at
Fort Buford, but if there is a lick of cow-sense among the government
representatives, we want our beeves to speak for themselves. Fat animals
do their own talking. You remember when every one was admiring the
fine horse, the blind man said, 'Isn't he fat?' Now, Dave, you and
Tom appoint your segundos, and we'll all catch the 10:20 train west
to-night."

I dared to risk one eye on Forrest. Inwardly I was chuckling, but Quince
was mincing along with his dinner, showing that languid indifference
which is inborn to the Texan. Lovell continued to monopolize the
conversation, blowing on the cattle and ribbing up Forrest to see that
the beeves thenceforth should never know tire, hunger, or thirst. The
commissaries had run low; Sponsilier's cook had been borrowing beans
from us for a week past, while Parent point-blank refused to share any
more of our bacon. The latter was recognized as a staple in trail-work,
and it mattered not how inviting the beef or venison might be, we always
fell back to bacon with avidity. When it came time to move out on the
evening lap, Forrest's herd took the lead, the other two falling in
behind, the wagons pulling out for town in advance of everything.
Jack Splann had always acted as segundo in my absence, and as he had
overheard Lovell's orders to Forrest, there was nothing further for me
to add, and Splann took charge of my "Open A's."

When changing mounts at noon, I caught out two of my best saddlers and
tied one behind the chuckwagon, to be left with a liveryman in town.
Leaving old man Don with the cattle, all three of us foremen went into
the village in order to secure a few staple supplies with which to
complete the journey.

It can be taken for granted that Sponsilier and myself were feeling
quite gala. The former took occasion, as we rode along, to throw several
bouquets at Forrest over his prefermen