Then we discussed improvements. A bunch of East Oregon horses, three cow-boys to handle our stock, a man to run the Sky-line contract, an irrigated corn field, and winter feed, two Chinese servants, so many 'must haves' that we waxed quite despondent over ways and means. Jesse must go to Vancouver on business, and thus after much preamble I came at last to the point.
"Take Billy with you."
"But if I go, he's got to look after the ranch."
Men are so stupid. When I sing to my dear bull pines, they breathe a swaying thin echo like some distant chorus; yet at the sight of Jesse, become impassive as red Indian chiefs. How could I tell such a man of peril? The widow understands, and no sacrifice is too great for a mother.
"You preach at Billy," I said, "you pray at him. Remember he's wild as these woods, son of a dangerous felon. His mother goads him on, and there's danger, Jesse."
I knew while I spoke the folly of appealing to any sense of fear. He chuckled softly.
"Why, Billy daresn't say good morning to my pinto colt. He was bucking plentiful to-day, and me spitting blood before I got him conquered. Now just you leave me to tame colts and cow-boys. I propose to rub old man Jacob into Billy by way of liniment until he supples, yes, and works. Dreams earn no grub."
"Take him away, Jesse, dear."
"He bin making love to you, Kate?"
My heart stood still, and to my jealous husband silence means consent. Two bats came darkly by, with a business manner, having perhaps an appointment with some field mouse. Then the hypocrite in me sighed, and Jesse flinging away his cigar stub, said with an oath that Billy should be on his way to Vancouver by daybreak.