Free to Tame a Land (1955) by Louis L'amour Page A

hesitated, "I have got a little money, but gol d is scarce in this country and I hate to get shut of it." I l et that settle down through his thinking for a few minutes, and then added, "Why, a man can buy most anything for gold in this country!"
    "Gold?" He looked at me again. "Mister, if you wan t to buy cows with gold, you don't have to go any farther.
    They pay ten dollars a head in San Antone. No w "More'n I'd pay. A man's got risks, driving to Kansas.
    He has to hire riders, get a chuck wagon, grub, a strin g of horses. Takes a sight of money."
    The rancher chewed slowly, looking thoughtful. "Migh t sell a few," he said. "Could use some cash money."
    Cattle bred like rabbits and his range was overstocked.
    He would have been a fool not to sell, if only to sav e grass for the other cows.
    "Give you five dollars a head?"
    He was astonished. "Five? You're crazy."
    I gathered my reins and moved to mount. "Maybe I' d better forget it, anyway. As it is, I'm drawing cow hand' s pay. If I own cows, I stand to lose. I'll just forget it."
    "Might let a few go for eight dollars?" he suggeste d hopefully.
    "No," I said, "I've got to ride on. Enjoyed the talk."
    He put a hand on my saddle. "Now, look "
    A half hour later we compromised at seven dollars a head, his men to round them up, and no culls. I bough t a hundred head. And when Wilson came along, I swun g them into the herd. A neighbor boy who wanted to se e San Antonio came along for the ten dollars I promise d him to make the drive.
    It was a good feeling, seeing those cattle, knowin g they were mine. They were good stock, and would brin g a good price whether I sold them in San Antonio or a t the end of the trail in Kansas.
    William J. Bennett was waiting in the plaza at Uvald e when I rode my horse into the square with Wilson. Wilso n gestured to me. "Ryan Tyler," he said, "a good hand."
    "Glad to know you," Bennett cut the end from his cigar.
    "Got any cows?"
    "A hundred head."
    "I'll buy 'em."
    As easy as that I could turn a profit, maybe double m y money, and in only a few days of work. I might go ou t again and buy more cattle and sell them, too. If I worke d hard and used my head, I could build a business for myself. But the trail to Kansas was north, and it was close r to Colorado.
    "Ten dollars a head," Bennett said. "Take it or leav e it."
    "No," I said, taking my time. "I don't want to sell. I w ant to make the drive with you." I leaned on the pommel. "Mr. Bennett, I want an outfit of my own. I kno w a little valley out in Colorado that's just what I want, bu t I need money. If I can sell those cattle in Kansas, I'll b e well along toward having my stake."
    He rolled his cigar in his teeth and looked around th e plaza. Finally he took the cigar from his mouth. "Have yo u any more money?"
    "Just a few hundred dollars."
    "You want to buy more cattle?"
    "Yes, sir."
    He looked at the end of his cigar. "All right, Tyler."
    He reached in his pocket and took out a small sack.
    "There's a thousand dollars in that. Buy cattle for me , too. We want to leave here by the fifth."
    As I started to swing my horse, he spoke again, onl y just loud enough for me to hear. "You the man wh o killed Rice Wheeler?"
    For a moment I sat very still in the saddle. Then lookin g around at him, I nodded.
    "Knew him," Bennett spoke abruptly. "He killed m y saddle partner at Red River Crossing four years ago."
    Riding out of town, I felt the weight of that sack o f gold. It was the first time anyone had ever trusted me wit h money, and he had merely turned and tossed it to me. Ye t it was more than trust of money. He was trusting m y judgment to buy well. It gave me a good feeling.
    A week later I had bought few cattle. The areas clos e to San Antonio had been swept clean, and all I had bee n able to send in were thirty head, all good stock but nothin g like what we wanted for the drive. So I pushed on, hopin g for better luck.
    The country was wild and lonely, occasional chaparral , but mostly