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Say, we ought to have some fun before you go." "Guess I've played enough jokes for a while." "But we ought to have one more. Come down to Mary Bounder's. Sam Shoop will go. He'll catch the cat." "Nope. I'm going home. I got a new book on sea terms, and I want to look at it." "All right. Then Sam and I'll go. You'll wish you'd come. We'll have some fun." But Bob could not be persuaded.
The Airedale, Bondsman, had once been shot wantonly by a stray Apache. Shoop had found the dog as it crawled along the corral fence, trying to get to the cabin. Bud had ridden fifty miles through a winter snowstorm with Bondsman across the saddle. An old Mormon veterinary in St. Johns had saved the dog's life. Shoop had come close to freezing to death during that tedious ride.
If this was Shoop's place, Shoop would not be gone long, or he'd have turned the horse to graze on the open mesa. Lorry entered and lighted the lamp. He gazed with astonishment at the piano. But that could wait. He was hungry. In a few minutes he had a fire going, plates laid for two, had made coffee and cut bacon. He was mixing the dough for hot biscuit when he heard some one ride up.
I thought this high country might do her good." "It's right high for some. Folks got to take it easy at first; 'specially wimmin-folk. I'm right sorry your girl ain't well." "Thank you. I shouldn't have mentioned it. She is really curious to know how you live, what you do, and, in fact, what a real live ranger looks like. Mr. Shoop told her something about you while we were in Jason.
As they rode into the Concho, they saw that Corliss's horse was in the corral. Their first anger had cooled, yet they gazed sullenly at Loring. They were dissatisfied with his interpretation of the killing and not a little puzzled. "Where's Fernando?" queried Shoop aggressively. Loring put the question aside with a wave of his hand. "Jest a minute afore I go.
"They're talkin' of turnin' this outfit into a sheep-camp," remarked another. "Ba-a-ah!" And again they laughed. Shoop motioned to Sundown who rose from beside the fire. "You can saddle up, Sun." Sundown caught up his horse and stood waiting while one of the men saddled two pack-animals. "Tony has the keys. He'll pack the stuff for you," said Corliss.
Shoop's intensity, his real love for music, was a revelation. Lorry felt like smiling, yet he did not smile. Bud Shoop could not play, but his personality forced its own recognition, even through the absurd medium of an untutored performance on that weird upright piano. Lorry began to realize that there was something more to Bud Shoop than mere bulk. Bud swung round, puffing.
"I aim to know about that," chuckled Shoop. And he smoothed out the paper and pointed to the Adams House sale notice. "The Adams House for sale? Why " "Jim and Annie that's Jim Waring and Mrs. Waring now are goin' to run the ranch. I'm mighty glad." "Oh, I see! And Lorry is really Laurence Waring?" "You bet! And I reckon Lorry'll be fo'man of that ranch one of these days.
When Sundown finally arrived at the Concho, he was met by Bud Shoop, who questioned him. Sundown gave a detailed account of his recent exploration. "You say they was no burros at the camp no tarp, or grub, or nothin'?" "Nope. Nothin' but a dead fire," replied Sundown. "Any sheep?" "Mebby four or five. Didn't count 'em." "Huh! Wonder where the rest of the greaser's herd is grazin'?" "I dunno.
"How long would it take you to foot it to the Concho?" "Oh, travelin' easy, say 'bout eight hours." "Don't see that you need a horse, then, even if there was one handy." "Nope. I don't need no horse. All I need is a job." "All right. You'd have to travel thirty miles either way to get out of here. I won't be there, but you can tell my foreman, Bud Shoop, that I sent you in."
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