“Foine gintlemen ye are, may hiven bless ye fer givin’ a helpin’ hand,” Pat called out as he tumbled off his horse.
“Bully boys,” echoed Jim, “to stay at home and have breakfast a smokin’ fer the fellers that’s had the fun. That’s just what my good old mother used to do for this rattle-brain boy of hers.”
“Gee, but I’m sleepy!” said Dick, throwing his head on the saddle he had just jerked from his pony.
“No wonder at all, at all,” returned Jim, “but brighten up, Dickie, and take your rations; you can’t doze off and dream of fancy girls about here to-day.”
Dick was asleep before the sermon was finished. Seeing this, Jim filled a cup with cold water and dashed it in the sleeper’s face. Dick jumped up, sputtering and grumbling sleepily, “Oh, cheese it, Jimmie! Let a feller snooze a little.”
“No snooze for the wicked,” returned Jim, while they all laughed at Dick’s discomfiture; “and you’ve been mighty wicked to flirt with pretty Alta, and shoot poor Bud in the toes. What do you say, boys, first fellow that goes to sleep again to-day gets soused in the creek?”
“Good enough,” shouted the boys.
That settled it. The crowd had to keep awake all day, though it was a sore trial to most of them. But cowboys must get used to that sort of thing, especially during the roundup days, when it often happens that the work means riding all day and herding all night.
To-day, however, it was not the roundup, but a “barn-raising” that called for the help of all hands and the cook. Captain Hanks was anxious to get the big barn up before haying time came, and it took a great deal of muscle to raise the heavy timber.
“Now, all together—yo-hee!” the foreman would shout to the boys ranged along the great logs, and with much straining and puffing they slowly lifted them into place, one on top of the other.