Blake put his hand on his friend’s shoulders and gravely looked at him: “Son, having eyes, I see; having ears, I hear; having brains, I think. If you have been fooling yourself that you are on a quiet trail, just listen to this: There ain’t a man who knows you well that don’t know what you’re playing for, even Bill had it all mapped out the second time he saw you. And most of us wish you luck. You’re not a man who needs help, but if you do need it, you know where to come for it.”
“Thank you, Blake,” replied The Orphan, eagerly filling his lungs with the crisp air. “That’s why I ain’t hankering for that gold–I’m too blamed busy making my own.”
“Well, what I wanted to speak to you about is this,” said the foreman, thinking quickly as to how to say it. “Old man Crawford got me to promise that I’d pick up a herd of cows for him before fall. Now, I would just as soon do it myself as not, but if you want to try your hand at it, go ahead. He wants about five thousand, to be delivered in five herds, a thousand each, at his corrals. He won’t pay any more than the regular price for them, and the more you can drop the price the better he will like it, of course. They must be good, healthy cattle and be delivered to him before payment is made. What do you say?”
“I say that it’s a go!” cried The Orphan. “I’ve had some great luck lately!” he exulted. “I’m ready to go after them whenever you say the word, to-night if you say so. And I’ll get the right number and kind or know the reason why. And I’ll take a hand in driving the last herd to him myself. Good Lord, what luck!”
Blake talked a while longer about the trip, giving necessary instructions about prices and where he would be likely to find the herd, and then rode off in the direction of Ford’s Station for a consultation with his friend, the sheriff.
“Hullo, Tom!” came from the stage office as he rode past. He quickly turned his head and then stopped, smiling broadly.
“Why, hullo, Bill,” he replied. “Glad to see you. How are things? Had any trouble lately?”
“Nope, times are real dull since that day in the defile,” Bill answered with a grin. “I saw Tex once at Sagetown, but he ain’t talking none these days, he’s too busy thinking. You see, I’ve got a purty strong combination backing me and nobody feels like starting it a-going, because there ain’t no telling just where it’ll stop. The Orphant and the sheriff make a blamed good team, all right.”
“None better at any game, Bill,” replied Blake. “And you used the right word, too. They’re going to pull together from now on, in fact, the Star C will be in harness with them.”
“That’s the way to talk!” cried Bill enthusiastically. “I always said that Orphant was a white man, even before I ever saw him,” he said, forgetting much that he might be in hearty accord. “He can call on me any time he needs me, you bet. He cheated the devil twice with me, and I ain’t a-going to forget it. But say, what do you think of the sheriff’s sister, Helen? Ain’t she a winner, hey? Finest girl these parts have ever seen, all right, and her friend ain’t second by no length, neither.”