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Updated: June 28, 2025
And say, Lew, you and Jess think of me when you are huddled around the stove this winter with a lot of razorbacks me out in the great open spaces feeling fine, and clear of mobs and nitwits. You fellows will have the razorbacks throw another basket of cobs in the old smoky stove, and I and Mr. Welborn here, will be toasting our feet before a log fire in the big fireplace "
It's fairly well distributed all over the tract, but better if you can hit the potholes right in the old stream bed." "And when you get it all out, then what?" Welborn looked rather perplexed. He studied a moment. "Then what?" he asked slowly, "Why we'll stock that ranch, lay out a flying field, and visit a lot of places.
"I've got a saddle in that keyster, and he can measure by that," said Davy, "and anyhow I don't want a little, low-headed, round-bellied hoss that can't go places. If he is a cowboy, he will know the kind." For five or more miles, the route led over a national highway. Then Welborn turned to the right, drove a few hundred feet and stopped. "Look out here to the left" he said.
He saddled the colt, maneuvered him up to the kitchen door for the basket of breakfast, and rode to the Point alone. Early as it was, he found Welborn up the ravine examining the gravel in a sheltered nook. "I can work this area this winter, when the rest of the valley is covered with snow," Welborn explained as they walked back to the cabin and the basket of breakfast.
"It was built the summer before last and it took all summer," explained Welborn. "The crazy galoot called himself the Count of Como. He came barging in here and bought out Clark and Stanley, the homesteaders, and brought in two men who had been building fancy cabins in Rocky Mountain Park and tourist camps.
It was apparent to his few acquaintances that he was now prepared to overcome some past adversities that had hindered his progress in other fields. One evening after supper at the Gillis home Welborn made a limited disclosure of his future plans. "As soon as the roads are fit, I want to go to the assay office in Denver and cash up on past efforts," was his opening statement.
Cramped under the wheel, driving as carefully as his cargo would warrant, sat Sam Welborn, the second happiest man west of the Missouri. The happiest man west of the big river was flouncing around in his berth on the third section of the Great International Circus trains bound for North Bend, Nebraska, planning his outfit to be purchased in a few days at Omaha.
Welborn will have to come out here to Maddy, for the hoodlums over at Grand Lake have burnt his feet and tortured him until mind and body are a wreck." "Tell Sam to come out here," was Landy's command to Davy. "Well, somebody has shore mussed ye up a heap, en right in yer gaddin' about department," he added as he noted the bandaged feet and ankles of the old fellow.
Get out here on the first train there's a lot to do and I've pledged you to carry out all the plans as proposed by your friend Townsend. There's lots to do. Get here at once." And Shirley Wells of the East, Sam Welborn of the West, did as he was directed. He arrived in Bransford shortly after the noon hour. And the rest of the afternoon he was listening to Davy's story and Davy's plans.
"Go right on, Sonny Boy," said Welborn, "you couldn't wreck our friendship if you were to spit in my face." "Well, we folks here know nothing about your past. We don't want to know until you release it, but I'll bet my interest in the Bar-O against a thin dime that you've served in the army and were a tough old 'top-kick' at that. You want things done your way. You resist being told.
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