Free Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 04 - Sudden Outlawed(1934) by Oliver Strange Page B

“Pardner,
we done noble,” Jed said. “Reckon when we git ‘em to the main herd we can call
it a day.”
                 “Suits
me,” Sudden grinned, and smacked the nose of a straying steer with his rope. “I
certainly hope yu got a good cook; my belt’s damn near slippin’ off’n me.”
                 “Peg-leg’s
the finest cook in Texas—he says so hisself,” Jed laughed. “An’ he shore can
talk to mules in the language they understand.”
                 In
their search for cattle they had drifted some distance from the plain, and dark
was creeping up by the time they reached the herd. The sight of a big fire and
the near-by chuck-wagon brought a doleful expression on Jed’s face.
                 “Gotta
sleep on our saddles tonight, seemin’ly,” he said.
                 “Yu’ll
be some lucky if yu sleep a-tall,” a new voice put in.
                 Another
rider had caught them up—a wispy little man, nearing fifty, from whose brown
face, wrinkled like a walnut, small blue eyes peered at the pair amusedly.
                 “‘Lo,
Jeff,” Jed greeted, and turning to his partner, added, “This is our foreman—a
pretty ornery fella, as yu can see, Green.”
                 The
little man chuckled and shoved out a paw. “Heard o’ yu from the 0I’ Man,” he
said.
                 “We
can use yu.” He waved towards the grazing cattle. “The bunch is gettin’ big an’
wants watchin’, which is why we’re campin’ alongside. Also, Sam is on the
rampage, I reckon we gotta start workin’ tomorrow.”
                 “Sufferin’
cats!” wailed the cowboy. “C’mon, Green, let’s join the other loafers an’ load
up before this slavedriver makes it to-day.”
                 Having
unsaddled and turned their mounts loose—the beasts were too tired to stray
far—they joined the group squatting round the fire.
                 “Hey,
Jed, how many yu fetch in?” Dumpy inquired.
                 “Coupla
score, if it’s any o’ yore damned business,” Jed said.
                 “An’
mighty good goin’,” commented another.
                 “Aw,
Jed knows the easy places,” the fat man gibed.
                 “Then
I wish he’d picked on ‘em,” Sudden said ruefully. “I’ll never see a pincushion
again without feelin’ sorry for it.”
                 There
was a general laugh at this, for all the men were scratched and torn, despite
the stout leather “leggin’s” they wore.
                 Sudden
had a word with Sandy.
                 “We
joined this outfit too soon,” he said whimsically. “We’d oughta waited till
they was ready to drive.”
                 “I
wish we hadn’t joined a-tall,” his friend replied. “No, that ain’t so neither,
but—hell, what’s the use?”
                 With
which cryptic remark he rolled his blanket round him and went to sleep. Sudden,
too tired even to wonder about this attitude, followed his example. Slumber
must be made the most of; if anything disturbed the cattle, there would be no
more for any of them that night.

  Chapter
VII
                 SOON
after dawn the men were astir and crowding round the fire, for the early air
was keen. Breakfast over, Jeff divided his forces; half were to begin the
branding while the others continued to build up the herd. Sudden and Sandy, as
not knowing the range, were allotted to the second task, a decision which—to
the former’s surprise, met with his friend’s satisfaction.
                 “We’re
shorely outa luck,” he remarked tentatively.
                 “Suits
me,” Sandy replied gaily. “We’ll show these hombres how to label longhorns.” He
straightened his neckerchief, slapped the dust from his clothes, and fingered
his chin