“I’m full up on talk, and I’m full up on punchin’, too,” replied Laramie. “For the information of this loco, I’ll say I was goin’ to quit anyhow. Decided that yesterday. He’s late. But I’ll finish out on yore account, Tex; then I’m done.”
“Oho!” chuckled the aggravating Bunyan, out of wisdom excessive. “Pay-day; then wine, woman and song, eh?”
“’Cordin’ to yore tell,” growled Laramie. He resaddled Old Thunder, brusquely mounted, and without instructions rode off on duty self-assigned.
The virtuous Mr. Bunyan returned to his party.
“Did you discharge him, uncle?” one of the girls asked breathlessly. “Wouldn’t he go?”
“He’ll stay till after the round-up. Was rather saucy about it. Said he was going to quit anyhow. The sooner he quits, the better.”
“Independent, aye?” the younger man queried.
“Oh, it’s easy come, easy go, with these cowboys. He’s probably saved his wages. No way to spend ’em, you see. So at first opportunity he’ll lay off and blow ’em all in. That’s it. Then he’ll be hunting another job. The same old story. I don’t worry.”
Laramie rode on, for a distance, alone. Thud of hoofs sounded. Happy Jack drew in to pace him and be his partner for the afternoon’s last circle.
“Say, Laramie, you aren’t goin’ to quit, are you?” Happy blurted. “Sure not. Everybody knows you’re all right.”