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They're half starved." "Wal, thet's worried me more'n you'll guess," declared Belllounds, with irritation. "What do a lot of cow-punchin' fellars know about dogs? Why, they nearly ate Bludsoe up. He wouldn't feed 'em. An' Wils, who seemed good with dogs, was taken off bad hurt the other day. Lem's been tryin' to rustle feed fer them.
"What's your name?" suddenly she asked. "Carmichael." "I heard that. But didn't uncle call you Las Vegas?" "Shore. But it wasn't my fault. Thet cow-punchin' outfit saddled it on me, right off. They Don't know no better. Shore I jest won't answer to thet handle.... Now Miss Bo my real name is Tom." "I simply could not call you any name but Las Vegas," replied Bo, very sweetly.
Not that I'm any better than the sailors an' cow-punchers I travelled with, I was cow-punchin' for a short time, you know, but I always liked books, read everything I could lay hands on, an' well, I guess I think differently from most of 'em. "Now, to come to what I'm drivin' at. I was never inside a house like this.
You might get into my class, too, some day, if you knowed anything except hoss-wrastlin' and cow-punchin'," he added affectionately. And Overland departed, sublimely content and not in the least disturbed by future possibilities. "He's the great kid!" he kept repeating to himself. "He's the same kid solid clean through.... Good-morning, ladies. Now about Billy er Mr.
This was just about thirty days before the county fair at Socorro, and there was money hung up for horse races over there that made us feel sick to think of. We knew we could go out of the cow-punchin' business for good if we could just only onct get Pinto over there, and get him to run the right way for a few brief moments. "Was he game? I don't know.
"They'll bury each other, as I told him, and they'll drug each other with mullein tea, as I told him the other day," Gray said, acrimoniously. "Yes, and they'll be eatin' each other before spring! I'd like to know what they're goin' to live on, the few that's left in this town a little cow-punchin', a little clerkin' in the courthouse and gittin' jury and witness fees.
"Who's ther kid?" "Thet boy is my grandson. We come outer Missouri ter see what could be did in this yere new country, an' it's mighty hard sleddin'." "What's ther trouble?" "Well, stranger, so long ez yer kind ernuff ter inquire, I'll tell yer." "I'm listenin'." "I'm too old ter work at ther only thing what seems ter be out yere cow-punchin' an' ther kiddie is too young.
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