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And that's when I'll get there." "Well, give my regards to Senator Brown and his wife, if you happen to see them." "Sure thing! I'm on my way. You know "I was top-hand once but the trail for mine: Git along, cayuse, git along! But now I'm ridin' the old chuck line, Feedin' good and a-feelin' fine: Oh, some folks eat and some folks dine, Git along, cayuse, git along!" Bartley smiled.
Shoop talked with him for a few minutes. Together they strolled back to the crowd. The Starr boys were still pitching dollars when Shoop and the sheepman approached. "Who's top-hand in this game?" queried Shoop genially. "High Chin and at any game you got," said a Starr man. "Well, now!" "Any game you got." Shoop gazed about, saw Lorry, and beckoned to him. "Here's my candidate," said Shoop.
I recollect when Steve Gary quit over the T-Bar-T and come over here lookin' for a job. Ma she sized him up, but didn't say nothin' right away. But Gary he didn't stay long enough to git a saddle warm. Ma didn't like him, nohow. He sure was a top-hand but that didn't help him none. He's over to the T-Bar-T now. Seen him the other day. He's got some kind of a drag there, for they took him back.
"A top-hand once, but the trail for mine," seemed to explain the singer's somewhat erratic dinner schedule. Bartley thought that he would like to see more of this strange itinerant, who sang both coming into and going out of town. Presently Cheyenne was back, singing something about a Joshua tree as he came. He stopped at the veranda rail. His smile was affable.
The early dew had just begun to fall when Bondsman joined in. Lorry grinned. The dog and his master were absolutely serious in their efforts. As the tune progressed, Lorry's grin faded, and he sat gazing intently at the huge back of his host. "Why, he's playin' like he meant it," thought Lorry. "And folks says Bud Shoop was a regular top-hand stem-winder in his day."
"I've heard you was top-hand with a rope. But you're a ranger, by the grace of God and me and John Torrance. Let the boy's play, but don't play with 'em yet. Keep 'em guessin' just how good you are. Let 'em get to know you slow and solid."
To be top-hand with a rope among such men as Blaze Andrews, Slim Trivet, Red Bender, and High-Chin Bob, the foreman, was worth all the patient hours he had given to persistent practice with the reata. But to-day he questioned himself. His mother had made him promise to go unarmed because she feared he would become like his father. Why hadn't she told him more about it all?
"Cheyenne is a kind of hobo puncher that rides the country with his little old pack-horse, stoppin' by to work for a grubstake when he has to, but ramblin' most of the time. He used to be a top-hand once. Worked for me a spell. But he can't stay in one place long. Wish you could meet him sometime. He can tell you more about this State than any man I know.
Again the plod, plod of the horses, and then: I was top-hand once for the T-Bar-T, In the days of long ago, But I took to seein' the scenery Where the barbed-wire fence don't grow. I was top-hand once but the trail for mine, And plenty of room to roam; So now I'm ridin' the old chuck line, And any old place is home ... for me ... And any old place is home. Bartley grinned.
No I guess I'd never make a top-hand, ridin' for you. But my rope is tied to the horn and I sure aim to stay with whatever I git my loop on." "I get your drift and I admire your purpose. "Meanin' you sabe what I'm gittin' at, eh?" The principal nodded and smiled. "I thought that was what you was tryin' to say. Well, professor " "Dr. Wheeler, if you please." "All right, Doc.
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