“Wouldn’t them alkali bogs breedin’ a billion ‘no-see-’ems’ a second be kind of a drawback?” inquired Teeters tentatively.
“That’ll all be drained, covered with sile and seeded down in lawns,” replied the Major quickly. “In two year that spot’ll be bloomin’ like the Garden of Eden.
“I’ve got to be movin’,” the Major continued. “I’m on my way from a cornerstone layin’ at Buffalo Waller to a barbecue at No Wood Crick. I’m kind of an orator,” he added modestly.
“And I got about three hundred head of calves to drag to the fire, if I kin git my rope on ’em,” said Teeters, straightening in the saddle.
The Major asked in instant interest:
“Oh, you’re workin’ for that wealthy eastern outfit?”
“Don’t know how wealthy they be, but they’re plenty eastern,” Teeters replied dryly.
“I was thinkin’ I might stop over night with ’em and git acquainted. The Scissors Outfit can’t be more'n fifteen mile out of my way, and it’ll be a kind of a change from the Widder Taylor’s, whur I stop generally.”
The cowboy combed the horse’s mane with his fingers in silence. After waiting a reasonable time for the invitation which should have been forthcoming, the Major inquired:
“They’re—sociable, ain’t they?”