Lorry's gray eyes twinkled. "Chickens are right scarce up here. And chicken sure tastes better on Sunday. Was you goin' to turn your stock out with mine?"
"That's so!"
They turned Bronson's horses out, and watched them charge down the mesa toward the three animals grazing lazily in the morning sunshine.
"Your horses will stick with mine," said Lorry. "They won't stray now."
"Did I hear a piano this morning, or did I dream that I heard some one playing?"
"Oh, it was me, foolin' with Bud's piano in there. Bud's got an amazin' music-box. Ever see it?"
"No. I haven't been in your cabin."
"Well, come right along over. This was Bud's camp when he was homesteadin'. Ever see a piano like that?"
Bronson gazed at the carved and battered piano, stepping close to it to inspect the various brands. "It is rather amazing. I didn't know Mr. Shoop was fond of music."
"Well, he can't play reg'lar. But he sure likes to try. You ought to hear him and Bondsman workin' out that 'Annie Laurie' duet. First off, you feel like laughin'. But Bud gets so darned serious you kind of forget he ain't a professional. 'Annie Laurie' ain't no dance tune—and when Bud and the dog get at it, it is right mournful."