"Thet boy is my grandson. We come outer Missouri ter see what could be did in this yere new country, an' it's mighty hard sleddin'."
"What's ther trouble?"
"Well, stranger, so long ez yer kind ernuff ter inquire, I'll tell yer."
"I'm listenin'."
"I'm too old ter work at ther only thing what seems ter be out yere—cow-punchin'—an' ther kiddie is too young. Now, if 'twas farmin', we'd be in it."
"Thar ain't no more farmin' out yere than a rabbit, thet's shore. What might yer bizness be at home?"
"I'm a hoss trader."
"Thar ought ter be somethin' doin' out yere fer yer, then. All thar is in this country is hosses an' cattle."
"They ain't my kind o' hosses."
"Yer don't seem ter fancy cow ponies, eh?"