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Updated: June 26, 2025
I never knew before that silliness and happiness go together, but they do. I'm glad I've got a sober old foreman that's all that keeps the business going." And after Transley had turned away Linder had scratched his head and said "By thunder.... Linder, when you wake up you'll be dead.... After her practically saying 'The water's fine.... Well, that's why I'm a foreman, and always will be."
"Will you say yes?" he repeated, and his hands found hers and drew her with his great strength up from her chair. She did not resist, but when she was on her feet she avoided his embrace. "You must not hurry me," she whispered. "I must have time to think. I did not realize what you were saying until " "Say yes now," he urged. Transley was a man very hard to resist.
He should know, or keep his mouth shut. But I allow myself just one guess. Drazk." "Why Drazk?" Y.D. demanded. "He has nothin' to gain, and this prank may put him in the cooler." "Drazk would do anything to be spectacular," Transley explained. "He probably will boast openly about it. You know, he's trying to make an impression on Zen." "Nonsense!"
"Oh, here you are, Drazk. How long do you reckon it would take you to ride down to the Y.D. on that Pete-horse?" Transley was a leader of men. Drazk's eyes sparkled at the subtle compliment to his horse. "I tell you, Boss," he said, "if there's any jackrabbits in the road they'll get tramped on." "I bet they will," said Transley, genially. "Well, you just slide down and tell Y.D. we're coming in.
After the ceremony the elder people sat down to dinner in the house, and the others in the bunk-house. Zen was radiant and calm; Transley handsome, delighted, self-possessed. His good luck was the subject of many a comment, both inside and out of the old house. He accepted it at its full value, and yet as one who has a right to expect that luck will play him some favors.
"I suppose you wear a man's size, Transley," he said, pouring out a big drink of brown liquor, despite Transley's deprecating hand. "Linder, how many fingers? Two? Well, we'll throw in the thumb. Y.D? If you please, just a little snifter. All set?" The rancher rose to his feet, and the company followed his example. "Here's ho! and more hay," he said, genially. "Ho!" said Linder.
Zen thought over the events of that evening until they became a blur in her memory. Her principal recollection was that she had been quite swept off her feet. Transley had interpreted her submission as assent, and she had not corrected him in the vital moment when they stood before her father that night in the deep shadow of the veranda. "Y.D.," Transley had said, "your consent and your blessing!
"Glad to see you fellows back," he exclaimed. "I al'us said the Western men 'ud put a crimp in the Kaiser, spite o' hell an' high water!" "One thing the war has taught us," said Grant, modestly, "is that men are pretty much alike, whether they come from west or east or north or south. No race has a monopoly of heroism." "Well, come on in," Transley beckoned, leading the way.
As they moved the burning grass in the rim set fire to the grass on the prairie underneath; the rim partly rubbed it out again as it came over, and the men were able to keep what remained in check, but as he lengthened his line Transley had to leave more and more men to beat out the fire, and had fewer to pull grass.
He has contracted with the owners for the hay rights of these lands for five years, beginning with the present season. He is already cutting farther down the valley, and will be cutting here within a day or two." "The trout ought to bite on a fine evening like this," said Transley. "I have an extra rod and some flies. Will you try a throw or two with me?"
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