“What can you do?” asked Hashknife.
Jimmy shuffled his feet.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I really don’t know. Unless, of course, she has some horses that need to have some one fall off them. Johnny Grant says I’m the best he has ever seen. He says if you’re a champion rider there’s always a dispute over it. But if you’re a champion faller-off, you’ve got a cinch title.”
The two cowboys laughed at Jimmy, or rather, with him.
“Can yuh handle a rope?” asked Hashknife.
“Not on a horse. There’s too many things to remember. I always fell off, trying to keep from tripping my own horse. On the ground, I’m pretty good. Eskimo says I can heat a branding-iron handle hotter than anybody he ever seen. And that about lets me out, I guess.”
“Well, yo’re honest about it, anyway,” laughed Sleepy. “If yuh live long enough, you’ll prob’ly be a top-hand about the time they stop raisin’ cattle and start on sugar-beets.”
“I’d have an even chance with the rest of the cowboys at raising sugar-beets, I suppose.”
“You sure are an optimist, pardner,” laughed Hashknife. “I hope Miss Taylor can use yuh. We need an optimist around us.”
“Fine,” grinned Jimmy. “And I’d learn just as much about being a cowboy.”