hen I had given him
an idea of the cheapness of lands and live stock in my adopted State,
he expressed himself as anxious to engage in trailing cattle north. A
great many Texas cattle had been matured in his home county, and he
thoroughly understood the advantages of developing southern steers in
a northern climate. Many of his neighbors had made small fortunes
in buying young stock at Abilene, holding them a year or two, and
shipping them to market as fat cattle.

The party bought six hundred two-year-old steers, and my new-found
friend, the banker, invited me to assist in the receiving. My
knowledge of range cattle was a decided advantage to the buyers, who
no doubt were good farmers, yet were sadly handicapped when given pick
and choice from a Texas herd and confined to ages. I cut, counted, and
received the steers, my work giving such satisfaction that the party
offered to pay me for my services. It was but a neighborly act,
unworthy of recompense, yet I won the lasting regard of the banker
in protecting the interests of his customers. The upshot of the
acquaintance was that we met in town that evening and had a few drinks
together. Neither one ever made any inquiry of the other's past
or antecedents, both seeming to be satisfied with a soldier's
acquaintance. At the final parting, I gave him my name and address and
invited him to visit me, promising that we would buy a herd of cattle
together and drive them up the trail the following spring. He accepted
the invitation with a hearty grasp of the hand, and the simple promise
"I'll come." Those words were the beginning of a partnership which
lasted eighteen years, and a friendship that death alone will
terminate.

The Indian contractor returned on time, and the next day I started
home with Daugherty's outfit. And on the way, as if I were pursued by
some unrelenting Nemesis, two of my horses, with others, were stolen
by the Indians one night when we were encamped near Red River. We
trailed them westward nearly fifty miles, but, on being satisfied they
were traveling night and day, turned back and continued our journey. I
reached home with sixteen horses, which for years afterwards, among
my hands and neighbors, were pointed out as Anthony's thousand-dollar
cow-ponies. There is no denying the fact that I keenly felt the
loss of my money, as it crippled me in my business, while my ranch
expenses, amounting to over one thousand dollars, were unpaid. I was
rich in unsal