“You get thirty five a month an’ your grub—twenty five fer ridin’ herd an’ the rest fer not knowin’ nothin’. How about it?”
“Sure, Senor, I do it.”
“All right, you come along with me. We’ll ride out, an’ I’ll show you where the bunch is,” and the sandy haired man gulped down another drink and arose.
He led Luis north into the reservation, and at last they came to a bunch of about fifty head grazing contentedly on rather good pasture.
“They ain’t so hard to hold,” said the sandy haired man, “but they got a hell of a itch to drift east sometimes. They’s a c’ral up thet draw a ways. You puts ’em in there nights and lets ’em graze durin’ the day. You won’t hev to hold ’em long.” He took a playing card from his pocket—the jack of spades—and tore it in two. One half he handed to Luis. “When a feller comes with tother half o’ this card, Kid, you kin let him hev the cattle. Savvy?”
“Si, Senor.”
“Oncet in a while they may a couple fellers come up with some more critters fer you. You jest let ’em drive ’em in with your bunch. You don’t hev to say nothin’ nor ask no questions. Savvy?”
“Si, Senor.”
“All right. Let ’em graze til sundown; then c’ral ’em and come down to the Hog Ranch fer the night. You kin make down your bed back o’ the barn. The Chink’ll feed you. So long, Kid.”
“Adios, Senor.”