I went to the wagon to get my roll,
To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul.
I went to the boss to draw my roll,
He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole.
I'll sell my outfit just as soon as I can,
I won't punch cattle for no damned man.
Goin' back to town to draw my money,
Goin' back home to see my honey.
With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky,
I'll quit punchin' cows in the sweet by and by.
Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya,
Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya."
As the last words of the chorus died away both men started at the sound of the girl's voice.
"Whenever you can spare the time you will find your supper ready," she announced, coldly, and without waiting for a reply, turned toward the camp. Endicott looked at Tex, and Tex looked at Endicott.
"Seems like you done raised hell again, Win. Standin' around listenin' to ribald songs, like you done, ain't helped our case none. Well, we better go eat it before she throws it away. Come on, Bat, you're included in the general gloom. Your face looks like a last year's circus bill, Win, with them patches of paper hangin' to it. Maybe that's what riled her. If I thought it was I'd yank 'em off an' let them cuts bleed no matter how bad they stung, just to show her my heart's in the right place. But that might not suit, neither, so there you are."
Alice sat well back from the fire as the three men poured their coffee and helped themselves to the food.