‘Yes.’
He saw the faces jerking out from the farrier’s and the cook-house, one or two Chinese. Elbert nodded and gestured, but not an eye turned to him, all cooling upon the one at his side.
‘Drive on to that door marked “Office,”’ he whispered.
Frost-face appeared in the doorway. Elbert’s fixed smile of greeting had not yet registered for a return glance. Frost-face began lifting off his wide hat. Elbert couldn’t remember ever having seen before that hard white head, uncovered.
‘She’s some—car,’ Frost-face said suddenly.
‘We were just ridin’ by. Thought I’d—’ Elbert began, but the foreman wasn’t paying attention. Finally in the strain Elbert pursued:
‘Any sick cattle?’
‘No, but we’re on the watch. Is she a six?’
‘No, an eight—straight eight. Thought we’d like to see Cal and Slim—’
‘Up in Wyoming—when I heard last—playin’ the round-ups and the rodeos.’