383“Why don’t you?” urged old man Pine. “There’s a flat just above us.”
“How did you get hold of this land?” I inquired curiously.
“Just took it”.
“Doesn’t it belong to anybody?”
“It’s part of one of these big Greaser ranchos,” said Pine impatiently. “I made a good try to git to the bottom of it. One fellar says he owns it, and will sell; then comes another that says he owns it and won’t sell. And so on. They don’t nohow use this country, except a few cattle comes through once in a while. I got tired of monkeying with them and I came out here and squatted. If I owe anybody anything, they got to show me who it is. I don’t believe none of them knows themselves who it really belongs to.”
“I’d hate to put a lot of work into a place, and then have to move out,” said I doubtfully.
“I’d like to see anybody move me out!” observed old man Pine grimly.
Farther up in the hills they were putting together the framework of a sawmill, working on it at odd times when the ranch itself did not demand attention. It was built of massive hewn timbers, raised into place with great difficulty. They had no machinery as yet, but would get that later out of their first farming profits.
“There ain’t no hurry about it anyway,” explained Pine, “for as yet there ain’t no demand for lumber yereabouts.”
“I should say not!” exploded Johnny with a derisive shriek of laughter, “unless you’re going to sell it to the elks and coyotes!”