"Now, what can I do for you? Those critters are
worth a hundred dollars or more to this outfit. I'll split with you."
"No, you won't, stranger, seein' it's all ther same ter you. I may be a
measly, fleabitten, hongry, lone maverick o' ther plains, but thar's one
thing I ain't, an' that's a 'lost and found' department, 'suitable
reward offered, an' no questions asked.' When I picks up a man's strays
I hands 'em in if I can find him, or if I was so blame' hongry I
couldn't resist ther temptation I might butcher one fer ther sake o'
sinkin' my molars inter a tenderloin steak. But thet's ther wust a
feller could say fer me. If ther critters aire yours, take 'em, an'
welcome."
"All right, pardner," said Ted, who had taken a fancy to the fellow. "At
least, you'll eat with us."
"Shore I'll break bread. I'm as hongry ez a shipwrecked sailor. When
does ther tocsin sound?"
"The dinner bell will ring in about half an hour. Get down and turn your
cayuse out to graze, and join us about the fire."
"Which means ter open ther mouth o' my war bag, an' give up my
pedigree."
"Something like that," said Ted, with a laugh.
The ungainly cow-puncher slid out of his saddle like an eel, and slipped
the saddle and bridle off his pony, and, giving it a slap on the haunch,
sent it out to eat.
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