"
It was sheer enjoyment for me to make my remarks to these men, pregnant
with meaning. Morton showed his pleasure, his interest, but his faith
held aloof.
"I've got some money. I had some. Then the cards have run lucky. Will
you let me in on some kind of deal? Will you start me up as a stockman,
with a little herd all my own?"
"Russ, this's durn strange, comin' from Sampson's cowboy," he said.
"I'm not in his outfit. My job's with Miss Sampson. She's fine, but the
old man? Nit! He's been after me for weeks. I won't last long. That's
one reason why I want to start up for myself."
"Hoden sent you to me, did he? Poor ol' Jim. Wal, Russ, to come out
flat-footed, you'd be foolish to buy cattle now. I don't want to take
your money an' see you lose out. Better go back across the Pecos where
the rustlers ain't so strong. I haven't had more'n twenty-five-hundred
head of stock for ten years. The rustlers let me hang on to a breedin'
herd. Kind of them, ain't it?"
"Sort of kind. All I hear is rustlers." I replied with impatience. "You
see, I haven't ever lived long in a rustler-run county. Who heads the
gang anyway?"
Frank Morton looked at me with a curiously-amused smile.
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