The Fighting Shepherdess | Page 8

asked in instant interest:
"Oh, you're workin' for that wealthy eastern outfit?"
"Don't know how wealthy they be, but they're plenty eastern," Teeters replied dryly.
"I was thinkin' I might stop over night with 'em and git acquainted. The Scissors Outfit can't be more'n fifteen mile out of my way, and it'll be a kind of a change from the Widder Taylor's, whur I stop generally."
The cowboy combed the horse's mane with his fingers in silence. After waiting a reasonable time for the invitation which should have been forthcoming, the Major inquired:
"They're--sociable, ain't they?"
"They ain't never yit run out in the road and drug anybody off his horse," replied Teeters grimly. "They charge four bits a meal to strangers."
"What?" Surely his ears had deceived him.
Inspired by the Major's dumbfounded expression, the cowboy continued:
"They have their big meal at night and call it dinner, and they wash their hands at the table when they git done eatin', and Big Liz has to lope in from the kitchen when she hears the bell tinkle and pass 'em somethin' either one of 'em could git by reachin'." He lowered his voice confidentially, "Most any meal I look fur her to hit one of 'em between the horns."
The Major stared round-eyed, breathless, like a child listening to a fairy tale which he feared would end if he interrupted.
"In the evenin' the boss puts on a kind of eatin' jacket, a sawed-off coat that makes a growed man look plumb foolish, and she comes out in silk and satin that shows considerable hide. Have you met this here Toomey?"
"Not yet; that's a pleasure still in store for me."
"Pleasure!" exclaimed Teeters, who took the polite phrase literally. "More like you'll want to knock his head off. Old Timer," he leaned over the saddle horn, "seein' as you're from Missoury, I'll tell you private that you'd better keep on travelin'. Company ain't wanted at the Scissor Outfit, and they'd high-tone it over you so 'twouldn't be noways enjoyable."
"There is plenty of ranches where I am welcome," replied the Major with dignity. "I kin make the Widder Taylor's by sundown."
"Miss Maggie plays good on the pianner," Teeters commented, expectorating violently to conceal a certain embarrassment.
"And the doughnuts the old lady keeps in that crock on the kitchen table is worth a day's ride to git to." The Major closed an eye and with the other looked quizzically at Teeters, adding, "If it wa'nt for Starlight--"
"Starlight is shore some Injun," replied the cowboy, grinning understandingly.
"Now what for an outfit's that?"
The moving cloud of dust which the Major had forgotten in his keen interest in the conversation was almost upon them. "A band of woolies, a pack burro, one feller walkin', and another ridin'."
The cowboy's eyes were unfriendly, though he made no comment as they waited.
"Howdy!" called the Major genially as, with a nod, the herder would have passed without speaking.
The stranger responded briefly, but stopped.
"Come fur?" inquired the Major sociably.
"Utah."
"Goin' fur?"
"Until I find a location. I rather like the looks of this section."
"Sheep spells 'trouble' in this country," said the cowboy, significantly.
"Think so?" indifferently.
Seeing Teeters was about to say something further, the Major interrupted:
"What might I call your name, sir?"
"Just say 'Joe,' and I'll answer."
The Major looked a trifle disconcerted, but in his r?le of Master of Ceremonies continued:
"I'll make you acquainted with Mr. Teeters."
The two men nodded coldly.
To break the strained silence the Major observed:
"Got a boy helpin' you, I notice."
"Girl," replied the sheepherder briefly.
"Girl? Oh, I see! Them overalls deceived me. Daughter, I presume."
"Pardner," laconically.
The Major looked incredulous but said nothing, and while he sought for something further to say in order to prolong the conversation they all turned abruptly at the rattle of rocks.
"The boss," said Teeters sardonically from the corner of his mouth, and added, "That's a young dude that's visitin'."
Toomey was perfectly equipped for a ride in Central Park. He looked an incongruous and alien figure in the setting in his English riding clothes and boots. The lad who accompanied him was dressed in exaggerated cowboy regalia.
Toomey used a double bit and now brought his foaming horse to a short stop with the curb. He vouchsafed the unimportant "natives" in the road only a brief glance, but addressed himself to Teeters.
"Where have you been?" he demanded in a sharp tone.
"I ain't been lost," replied Teeters calmly. "Where would I be 'cept huntin' stock?"
"Why didn't you follow me?"
"I think too much of my horse to jam him over rocks when there ain't no special call for it. I kin ride on a run 'thout fallin' off, when they's need to."
Toomey's brilliant black eyes flashed. Swallowing the impudence of these western hirelings was one of the hardest things he had to endure in his present life. But even he could see that Teeters thoroughly understood cattle, else he would