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Updated: June 12, 2025
Most of them were shipped by the West Cattle Company. An odd car was a jackpot bunch of pickups composed of various brands. All the cars were packed to the door, as was the custom of those days. After the train had settled down to the chant of the rails Garrison sent Dave on a tour of the cars. The young man reported all well and returned to the caboose.
On more careful consideration Crawford and Sanders decided against trying to float the Jackpot with local money except by the sale of enough stock to keep going until the company's affairs could be put on a substantial basis.
But not until Crawford shifted to his shoulders the burdens of the Jackpot did he know that he had it in him to grapple with organization on a fairly large scale. He worked without nerves, day in, day out, concentrating in a way that brought results. He never let himself get impatient with details. Thoroughness had long since become the habit of his life. To this he added a sane common sense.
"He might tell me where his mail goes, as the old sayin' is." "When did you lose your friend?" "I ain't heard from him since he come to New York. So bein' as I got a chanct to go from Tucson with a jackpot trainload of cows to Denver, I kinda made up my mind to come on here the rest of the way and look him up. I'm afraid some one's done him dirt." "Do you know where he's staying?"
Otero picked his way to the upper end of a gulch. "Leesten, muchacho. Go down down down. First the gulch, then a cañon, then the Jackpot. You go on thees trail." He dropped the boy to the ground, watched him start, then turned away at a Spanish trot. The trail was a rough and precipitous one. Stumbling as he walked, Keith went sobbing down the gulch.
"Did the preacher gent die, er did Brother Peyton jump the game, taking the jackpot with him?" "No, nothing like that. The Nazarenes moved in! You both know about the Nazarenes?" Davy did. He had noticed their meetings in cities. But with Landy, the subject was a blank page and he withheld comment.
Orndorff looked at them and silently shoved the melted jackpot over to Long Brown. Long Brown's hand was an eight full on sevens. So long as Old Brin was under the guardianship of his early friends, it was certain that no serious harm would come to him and that no hunter would be permitted to boast of having conquered him.
"Tha's great. He told me he was gonna ask you. Betcha we make the ol' Jackpot hum." "D' you ever hear of a man land poor, Bob?" "Sure have." "Well, right now we're oil poor. According to what the old man says there's no cash in the treasury and we've got bills that have to be paid. You know that ten thousand he paid in to the bank to satisfy the note.
"You think they'll attack." A gay light of cool recklessness danced in the eyes of the young oilman. "I've a kinda notion they'll drap over and pay us a visit one o' these nights, say in the dark of the moon. If they do well, we certainly aim to welcome them proper." "Hello, the Jackpot!" Out of the night the call came to the men at the bunkhouse. Bob looked at his companion and grinned.
At the end of the next week I was proud of Percival. He fronted me out of a plump jackpot without a tremble of a gray whisker, but, to save me, I couldn't get him to play cards. He said it was wicked and led to gamblin' I dunno but what he's right at that. We had lots of fun with the Uncertainty of Things, anyhow, and saved our morals. "At the end of three weeks us two was twin brothers.
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