One summer on reaching the ranch I was
entertained with the usual accounts of the adventures and misadventures
which had befallen my own men and my neighbors since I had been out
last. In the course of the conversation my foreman remarked: "We had a
great time out here about six weeks ago. There was a professor from Ann
Arbor come out with his wife to see the Bad Lands, and they asked if we
could rig them up a team, and we said we guessed we could, and Foley's
boy and I did; but it ran away with him and broke his leg! He was here
for a month. I guess he didn't mind it though." Of this I was less
certain, forlorn little Medora being a "busted" cow-town, concerning
which I once heard another of my men remark, in reply to an inquisitive
commercial traveller: "How many people lives here? Eleven--counting the
chickens--when they're all in town!"
My foreman continued: "By George, there was something that professor
said afterwards that made me feel hot. I sent word up to him by Foley's
boy that seein' as how it had come out we wouldn't charge him nothin'
for the rig; and that professor he answered that he was glad we were
showing him some sign of consideration, for he'd begun to believe he'd
fallen into a den of sharks, and that we gave him a runaway team a
purpose.
Pages:
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297