"The grass is going to waste there," the boss argued.
"That does not concern you. It is not the fault of the Tetongs that they have not cattle enough to fill the range."
In the end he had his way, and though the settlers and ranchers hated him, they also respected him. No one thought of attempting to bribe or scare him, and political "pull" had no value in his eyes.
Jennie, meanwhile, had acquired almost mythic fame as a marvellously beautiful and haughty "queen." Calvin was singularly close-mouthed about her, but one or two of the cowboys who had chanced to meet her with the agent spread the most appreciative reports of her beauty and of the garments she wore. She was said to be a singer of opera tunes, and that she played the piano "to beat the Jews." One fellow who had business with the agent reported having met her at the door. "By mighty! she's purty enough to eat," he said to his chum. "Her cheeks are as pink as peaches, and her eyes are jest the brown I like. She's a 'glad rag,' all right."
"Made good use o' your time, didn't ye?" remarked his friend.
"You bet your life! I weren't lettin' nothin' git by me endurin' that minute or two."
"I bet you dursn't go there again."
"I take ye—I'll go to-morrow."
"Without any business, this time? No excuse but jest to see her? You 'ain't got the nerve."
"You'll see. I'm the boy. There ain't no 'rag' gay enough to scare me."