“I’ll go,” replied the cattleman. “You boys hole up here. I don’t want you chasing around much until you’re all ready to ride into the Creeping Shadows and look for a job on the Box B.”
They all lent a hand in getting breakfast. Then Old Bill got his horse, swung into the saddle, and went off down the trail.
Chuck washed their few dishes while Slim got the camp in shape. When they had completed their tasks, they sat down and contemplated the bright freshness of the morning.
Chuck wiggled his toes gratefully as he looked at his badly worn boots.
“It’s going to be great to have at least a day to loaf and let my feet catch up with the rest of me. Hope Old Bill gets a good fit in boots.”
“Didn’t you give him your size?” asked Slim.
“Gosh, no. I forgot all about that.” Chuck’s face registered real dismay.
“If he gets the largest boots in the store they won’t be any too small,” chuckled Slim as he surveyed Chuck’s broad feet.
“I’ll have no insults cast at my underpinning,” roared the cowboy from the Circle Four, hurling a near-by stick at Slim.
Slim ducked with a grin as the stick whistled by.