Part 2 (2/2)
”I can readily understand, Mr. Lee,” he began, ”why you hesitate to employ a stranger, and especially a man who has newly come from the East, but if you would give me a trial for a few days I am sure you would find me a very willing worker. I have come out here in order to learn the cattle business, and the compensation is of no importance to me at first; in fact, I should be glad to work without pay until you found my services of value. Perhaps now----”
”Nope,” interposed the cattleman, shaking his head regretfully. ”I've tried that before, and it don't work. Cow-punching is a business by itself, and it can't be learned in a minute; in fact, a good puncher is the scarcest thing on the range, and I either pay the top price or I don't take a man on at all. I can't stop to monkey with green hands.”
Now, this was pretty direct, and it was calculated to put the ordinary tenderfoot in his place; but Mr. Bowles came from a self-selected cla.s.s of people who are accustomed to having their own way, and he would not acknowledge himself beaten.
”Now, really, Mr. Lee,” he protested, ”I don't think you are quite fair to me in this. As I understand it, your round-up is just beginning, and I am sure I could be of some service--for a few days, at least.”
The old man glanced at his fancy new outfit, and thought he saw another way out.
”Can you ride?” he inquired, asking that first fatal question before which so many punchers go down.
”Yes, sir,” answered Bowles politely.
”You mean you can ride a gentle horse,” corrected Lee. ”I've got some pretty wild ones in my bunch, and of course a new hand couldn't expect to get the best. Can you rope?”
”No, I mean any horse,” retorted Bowles, avoiding the subject of roping.
”Any horse you have.”
”Hmm!” observed Mr. Lee, laying down his pipe and regarding his man with interest. ”Did you ever ride any bad horses?”
”Yes, sir,” lied Bowles; ”several of them.”
”And you think you can ride any horse I've got, eh?” mused Lee. ”Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Bowles,” he continued, speaking very deliberately; ”I've got a horse in my remuda that killed a man last fall--if you'll ride him I'll take you on for a puncher.”
”Very well, sir,” responded Bowles. ”And thank you very much. It's very kind of you, I'm sure.”
He turned to go but the cattleman stopped him in his second stride. His bluff had been called, for it would never do to go to a show-down--not unless he wanted a man's blood on his hands.
”Here! Wait a minute!” he cried impatiently. ”I don't want to get you killed, so what's the use of talking? The only way for you to get to be a cow-puncher is to work up to it, the way everybody does. I'll give you a job as flunky at twenty a month and found, and if you make good I'll put you on for horse wrangler. How does that strike you?”
”Ah--what are the duties of a flunky?” inquired Bowles, cautiously and without enthusiasm. ”You know, I'm quite content with your first proposal.”
”Very likely,” answered Mr. Lee dryly. ”But wait till you see the horse.
All a flunky has to do is to help the cook, wash the dishes, drag up a little wood, and drive the bed-wagon.”
”It's very kind of you, I'm sure,” murmured Mr. Bowles; ”but I think I prefer the other.”
”The other what?”
”Why, the other position--the job of cow-puncher.”
”You don't think I'll let you ride that horse, do you?” demanded Mr. Lee sternly.
”Why--so I understood you.”
The old cattleman snorted and muttered to himself. He had talked too much and that was all there was to it. Now he would have to make some concessions to pay for it.
”Listen to me, young man,” he said, rising and tapping him on the shoulder. ”The horse that killed Dunbar is the worst man-eater in the country--I ought to have shot the brute long ago--and if you try to ride him he'll throw you before you git your stirrup. More'n that, he'll kick you before you hit the ground, and jump on you before you bounce. My twister, Hardy Atkins, won't go near 'im, and he's one of the best riders in Arizona; so what's the use of talking about it? Now, you're a stranger here, and I'll make an exception of you--how about that flunky job?”
<script>