"There's nothing like a home, after all," said the boss, with a sigh of satisfaction. "You ought for to get married, Lafe."
"Hell!—yes!" said Lafe, who was sometimes careless in his speech.
CHAPTER IV
OUT OF A JOB
Three days later Johnson left us to go north with his last load of cattle. Floyd and his wife were at the pens to say good-by, and waved at him until the caboose followed the rest of the train around a curve. Even Tommy flapped his chubby fist. And in the course of time Horne paid him off.
That was in Kansas City. Johnson spent his earnings in something under thirty hours and made the return in a day coach, having no money for a berth. Indeed, his last meal, which he procured at a wayside lunch counter in New Mexico, he was compelled to charge. It was made easier for him to do this inasmuch as he had already eaten the meal. The landlord, after slowly thinking it over, said he would trust Lafe.
Now he was back in the cow country, hopeful that Horne might find further employment for him, for that was the only work in which Lafe was content. And he went to Badger, his credit being good there until they should discover he had no money. It behooved him to get a job, with winter almost on them, yet the prospect did not distress Lafe in the least. He loitered around the Fashion, waiting for something to turn up.
On a November morn, Buffalo Jim rode into Badger from the Lazy L, leading a pack-horse that carried all his worldly possessions on its back. Buffalo was lifted up in heart and scornful of roundups, having just sold a mine. It does not concern us what sort of mine he sold, although a gentleman from Illinois grew very nasty over this point subsequently. Suffice that Jim had four hundred dollars.
He told Lafe that he was through with the Lazy L and sick cows, and would devote his future to prospecting. Nobody would ever order him around again; he wouldn't stand to be roused out of bed at four in the morning by Floyd, or any man alive. A week's work in the hills, a vein of copper—and here he was with money in his pocket, able to glean life's pleasures. He banged his silver down on the bar and looked all around, like a landed proprietor. Johnson agreed that it was a tempting career, although a man had once hunted him for a month with a sawed-off .25-35 because of a similar transaction. Buffalo scoffed at the suggestion of the Illinois party ever finding him, and he proceeded to do nothing. Lafe helped him.