“The daughter of the Y.D!” said Transley, looking across the table at the girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white teeth, she raised an empty glass and clinked it against his.
The men drained their glasses and re-seated themselves, but the women remained standing.
“Perhaps you will excuse us now,” said the rancher’s wife. “You will wish to talk over business. Y.D. will show you upstairs, and we will expect you to be with us for breakfast.”
With a bow she left the room, followed by her daughter. Linder had a sense of being unsatisfied; it was as though a ravishing meal has been placed before a hungry man, and only its aroma had reached his senses when it had been taken away. Well, it provoked the appetite—
The rancher re-filled the glasses, but Transley left his untouched, and Linder did the same. There were business matters to discuss, and it was no fair contest to discuss business in the course of a drinking bout with an old stager like Y.D.
“I got to have another thousand tons,” the rancher was saying. “Can’t take chances on any less, and I want you boys to put it up for me.”
“Suits me,” said Transley, “if you’ll show me where to get the hay.”
“You know the South Y.D?”
“Never been on it.”
“Well, it’s a branch of the Y.D. which runs south-east from The Forks. Guess it got its name from me, because I built my first cabin at The Forks. That was about the time you was on a milk diet, Transley, and us old-timers had all outdoors to play with. You see, the Y.D. is a cantank’rous stream, like its godfather. At The Forks you’d nat’rally suppose is where two branches joined, an’ jogged on henceforth in double harness. Well, that ain’t it at all. This crick has modern ideas, an’ at The Forks it divides itself into two, an’ she hikes for the Gulf o’ Mexico an’ him for Hudson’s Bay. As I was sayin’, I built my first cabin at The Forks—a sort o’ peek-a-boo cabin it was, where the wolves usta come an’ look in at nights. Well, I usta look out through the same holes. I had the advantage o’ usin’ language, an’ I reckon we was about equal scared. There was no wife or kid in those days.”