He coiled his rope and tied it to the saddle horn; from under the horn on the other side he took a running iron, held there by a slitted leather—an iron rod three-eighths of an inch in diameter, a foot long and shaped like a shepherd’s crook. He gathered up dead branches of mahogany bush and made a small fire, cunningly built for a quick draft, close beside the yearling; he thrust the hook part of the branding iron into the hottest fire; and while it was heating he returned to give grave reprimand and instruction to Twilight. That culprit listened attentively, bright-eyed and watchful; managing in some way to bear himself so as to suggest a man who looks over the top of his spectacles while rubbing his chin with a thoughtful thumb. When the iron was hot Johnny proceeded to put the Bar Cross brand on the protesting yearling. Looking up, he became aware of a man riding soberly down the cañon toward him. Johnny waved his hand and shoved his iron into the fire for a second heating.
The newcomer rode up the trail and halted; a big red-headed man with a big square face and twinkling eyes. He fished for tobacco and rolled a cigarette.
“Thought I knew all the Bar Cross waddies. You haven’t been wearin’ the crop and split very long, have you?”
“They just heard of me lately,” explained Johnny.
“I know that Twilight horse of yours. Saw him last spring at the round-up. Purty as a picture, ain’t he?”
“Humph! Pretty is as pretty does.” Johnny returned to his branding. “He made me miss my throw, and now I’m in the wrong cañon. I aimed to take the draw north of here, for Hillsboro.”
The newcomer leaned on his saddle horn.
“Deadman? Well, you could cross over through this pass if you was right set on it. But it’s a mean place on the far side—slick, smooth rock. You might as well go on by way of Garfield now. You won’t lose but a mile or two, and you’ll have fine company—me. Or—say, if you’re going that way, why can’t you mail a letter for me? Then I won’t have to go at all. I’d be much obliged to you if you would. That was all I was going for, to mail some location notices.”
“Sure I will. I kind of want to see Garfield anyhow. Never been there. Crop and split the right. So that’s done. I’ll keep this piece of ear for tally.”
The other took a large envelope from his saddle pockets and handed it over. Dines stuck it in the bosom of his flannel shirt.