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Whispers became spasmodic, indeed even frequent. "Say, Curly," whispered Del Hickman hoarsely to his neighbour, "ef somethin' don't turn loose right soon I'm due to die right here. I'm thirstier'n if this here floor was the Staked Plains." "Same here," said Curly in a muttered undertone. "But I reckon we're here till the round-up's made.
I know yuh must feel purty blew over it, fer yuh was always sech a hand t' be tearin' around the country on the dead run, seems like. I always told Mary 't you'n Weary always rode like the sheriff wa'nt more'n a mile b'hind yuh. An' I s'pose you feel it all the more, seein' the round-up's jest startin' out.
When it comes to the cooking maybe between the four of us we can get along some way!" "Well, if the round-up's got to start Monday," Parker declared sullenly as they left the table, "I'll have to go down to town again to-day and get me a new saddle. Mine was on Old Blue." "I'll go with you," Old Heck said in a conciliatory way.
We're just one mind an' one body, an'," he added thoughtfully, "I don't guess I'll need a detective bureau to locate him. If he was chasin' around the other end of the world I'd find him sure. You see, he's the other half of me." Bud nodded in sympathy, but made no verbal reply. "See, Bud," Jeff went on, a moment later. "The spring round-up's through. We're going to fix this deed right away.
"Al can take the outfit and drift," said Tom, as though he were discussing some detail of the round-up. "He knows where and they can scatter, I'll give 'em a horse apiece as a a kinda bonus. I'll have to stay, looks like. Fall round-up's coming on." "Wel-ll," said Lance, throwing an arm over a rail and drumming with his fingers, "I was raised on round-ups.
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