“They ain’t no such animal.”
At which Manzanita laughed—whereupon Limpy and his dining chair were transported to the edge of a silver-tipped cloud, which is a giddy perch indeed.
“What are you going to do to-day, Mart?” asked the girl.
“Go over to Mangan’s camp, o’ course, and see the stiffs.”
“What do you know about stiffs, I’d like to know!”
“I’d like to know what he knows about them mulies and their calves that drifted down toward Caldron Cañon,” dryly put in Squawtooth.
“I got ’em,” Mart proclaimed. “I headed ’em onto the Canterbury grade and drifted ’em up as far as Shirttail Bend.”
“Wonderful! And they told ye they’d go on back up to Piñon then, did they?”
“Aw, they will! You know they will, pa. They always do that.”
“Nice cows, son—dootiful cows. Like my son and daughter. Well, if they don’t you can throw the diamond hitch on Mono and get in yer little saddle and stay out till they do. An’ in the meantime, I reckon the stiffs can take care of ’emselves.”