"Pickin' up, an' pickin' fast," answered Buffalo, following with the second team. "It's gettin' too much for one old man an' this waggin. An' top of that I got th' mail contract I been askin' for for years. So I got to put on another waggin an' make th' trip every week 'stead of only when th' freight piles up enough to make it worth while. Reckon I'll break my boy in on th' new waggin."
"I'll leave th' feedin' to you," said Johnny, leaning against the wall. "You know what they need."
"All right, friend; much obliged to you. I just let 'em eat all th' hay they can hold an' give 'em their measures of oats. I have to carry them with me—can't get none away from Highbank, everythin' up here bein' grass fed."
"I feed oats when I can get 'em," replied Johnny. "I allus reckon a corn-fed hoss has more bottom."
"Shore has—if they're that kind," agreed Buffalo.
"Travel th' same way all th' time?"
"Yes. I won't gain nothin' goin' t'other way 'round," answered Buffalo, busy with his pets. "You see I allus come north loaded. Th' first stop, after here, is Juniper, where I loses part of th' load. That's thirty miles from here, an' th' road's good. Then I cross over to Sherman, lose th' rest of th' load, an' come back from there light—it's fifty mile of hard travelin'. Goin' like I do I has th' good, short haul with th' heavy load; comin' back I have a light waggin on th' long, mean haul. If I went to Sherman first, things would just be turned 'round."
"What do you do when you have passengers for Sherman?"
"Don't want none!" snorted Buffalo. "Wouldn't carry 'em to Sherman, anyhow. Anybody with sense that can sit a hoss wouldn't crawl along with me in th' heat an' dust on that jouncin' seat. But sometimes I has a tenderfoot to nurse, consarn 'em. They ask so many fool questions I near go loco. But they pays me well for it, you bet!"
"Anythin' else I can give you a hand with?" asked Johnny, following the old man out of the shed.