Nor could he help thinking how little was the difference between man and beast. It was only in its objective. The manner was much the same. Yes, and the very means employed created in him an impression favorable to the hapless quadruped. Surely their battle for existence was more honest, more natural.
His mood was pessimistic, even for a man who sees the traffic which is his keenest interest threatened by a marauding gang of land pirates. Maybe it was the wearing hours of McLagan’s nagging that caused his mood. Maybe it was an inclination brought about by the long train of disappointments that had been his as he trod his one-way trail. Maybe, as the cynical might suggest, his liver was out of order. However, whether it was sheer pessimism, or even the shadow cast by approaching events, he felt it would be good when the evening was past, and he could forget things in the blessed unconsciousness of sleep.
But his meditations were suddenly disturbed. The ranch dogs started their inharmonious chorus, and experience taught him that there are only two things which will stir the lazy ranch dog to vocal protest; the advent of the disreputable sun-downer, and the run of driven cattle.
He quickly discovered, at sight of a thick rising dust to the westward of the ranch, that the present disturbance was not caused by any ragged “bum.” Cattle 209 were coming in to the yards, and it needed little imagination on his part to guess that some of the boys on special duty were running in lost stock.
His pessimism vanished in a moment, and in its place a keen enthusiasm stirred. If it were some of the lost stock then they would probably have news of the thieves. Maybe even they’d made a capture. He hurried at once in the direction of the approaching cattle. Nor was he alone in his desire to learn the news. Every man had left his supper at the bunk house to greet the newcomers.
The incoming herd was still some distance away, but the bunch was considerable judging by the cloud of dust. Jim found himself amongst a group of the boys, and each and all of them were striving to ascertain the identity of those who were in charge.
“Ther’s two o’ them, sure,” exclaimed Barney Job, after a long scrutiny. “Leastways I ken make out two. The durned fog’s that thick you couldn’t get a glimpse o’ Peddick’s flamin’ hair in it.”
“Cut it out, Barney,” cried the lantern-faced owner of the fiery red hair. “Anyways a sight o’ my hair ’ud be more encouragin’ than your ugly ‘map.’ Seems to me, bein’ familiar with my hair ’ll make the fires of hell, you’ll likely see later, come easier to you when they git busy fumigatin’ your carkis.”
“Gee! that’s an elegant word,” cried Hoosier Pete, a stripling of youthful elderliness. “Guess you’ve bin spellin’ out Gover’ment Reg’lations.”
“Yep. San’tary ones. Barney’s thinkin’ o’ gettin’ scoured in a kettle o’ hot water,” said Peddick, with a laugh.