A sittin' an a singin' by a little cottage do-o-r.
Where lived my darlin' Nel-lie Gr-a-ay,
came floating faintly from far below him.
He peered in the direction of the singing and barely made out a moving blot well out in the valley. As it came steadily nearer, the blot resolved itself into several dots, and the chorus had greater volume. It appeared that the group was harmonizing.
"You'll be doin' somethin' more than sittin' an' singin' at yore little cottage door one of these days," grunted Johnny savagely. It was his rebuff to the thought which came to him of how long it had been since he had ruined the silence in company with his friends. "That first feller is purty good; but one of 'em shore warbles like a sick calf."
Several other dots arose suddenly from the earth and lumbered sleepily away as the horsemen approached them.
"There's some of Logan's cows, I reckon," grunted the watcher grimly. "Wish I could see better. I've got to do my prospectin' in daylight; an' I got to find some way to ride over here—waste too much time on foot."
More squealing came from the corral and grew in volume as other horses joined in it. From the noise it appeared to be turning into a free-for-all. A door in one of the distant houses suddenly opened and framed a rectangular patch of light, dull and yellow; and from it emerged a bright little light which swung in short, jerky arcs close to the ground and went rapidly toward the corral. Soon thereafter the squealing ceased and a moment later the little light went bobbing back again, blotted out in rhythmic dashes by the swinging legs beside it.
"Big Jerry fightin' again," laughed one of the horsemen during a pause in the singing. Johnny barely was able to hear him.
Oh my darlin' Nellie Gra-a-y, they have taken her awa-a-y;