Free Horse of a Different Color by Ralph Moody

you’re aimin’ to buy feeder stock I reckon you’ll want me to put out line calls. What’ll I tell the folks?”
    “Tell them I’ve moved my trading headquarters down to the Wilson place,” I said, “and that Bob and I are going to feed cattle and hogs together, but that I’ll carry on my trading and shipping business alone. We already have enough pigs, but starting Monday morning we’re going to buy three hundred top grade white-faced feeder steers. Right now we’re fencing the place hog-tight, so I’ll be able to buy any kind of shipping stock at any time and hold it till I can make up uniform carloads. You could say that we’d be glad to hear from anybody with cattle or hogs to sell, regardless of grade, type, and whether or not they’re mortgaged to the bank.”
    “Want me to say you’ll stand personal behind any deal Bob makes or anything he says in dickerin’ for a deal? If you do you’re a fool, and if you don’t the folks in this township are goin’ to be mighty skittish about offerin’ stock.”
    “Then I’m a fool,” I said.
    Effie squeezed her lips together so hard that a white ring showed around them, then blew out a gusty breath and told me, “Well, there’s no cure for foolishness. I’ll put out line calls for you, but I’ve got a feelin’ that I might as leave be givin’ you a ticket to the poorhouse. Wouldn’t do it if the folks in this township didn’t need a dependable stock feeder so cussed bad. Now get out of here so’s’t I can simmer down before I make them line calls.”
    There was nothing more I could say, so I kissed a forefinger, touched it to the tip of her nose, and got out of there.
    Bob was at the bank for more than an hour. When he came home he tried his best to act as if he’d had a nice sociable visit with Bones, but he did none of his usual bragging. Next morning he set to work in good shape when we began fencing along the McCook-Oberlin road. But Effie had stirred up considerable interest with her line calls, farmers by the dozen came by to say they had stock for sale, and Bob stopped to visit with every one of them. Some were top-of-the-divide tenants, so poor that only their wives and children were unmortgaged, but even with them Bob acted as if he were ashamed to be caught working, and he could no more help bragging than breathing. Before the day was over he was pushing most of the fence building off onto me by lengthening his visits with the callers. Still, I had to admire his acting ability, for he gave no appearance of trying to kill time, and his bragging always had a fresh, convincing quality.
    We finished fencing on Saturday, and by that time nearly every farmer in Beaver Township had either phoned or come by to say he had livestock of some kind for sale. By investing in the feeding business I’d drawn my trading funds down to less than fifteen hundred dollars, so before the bank closed I went up for a talk with Bones. After he’d given me an up-to-date list of the cash percentages we could pay on mortgaged stock, I told him, “A good many on this list have some shipping stock to sell. I believe I could pick up two or three carloads while we’re out buying feeder steers, but to do it I’d need a temporary loan until the stock is sold.”
    “There’s no need of making the loan now,” he told me. “Go ahead and buy as much stuff as you want to, then I’ll make the loan for whatever amount you’ve overdrawn your trading account. I’d like to see a good bit of that mortgaged stock shipped out of here before winter sets in.”
    It hadn’t occurred to me that it was the last Saturday before Christmas until I got home from the bank and found Marguerite and the girls dressed in their going-to-town clothes. We all went to McCook that evening, I made my weekly visit to Dr. DeMay, and the sugar content of my specimen was down enough that he let me go back on my regular diet. After we had supper I took care of the girls while Bob and Marguerite