Ted had been thinking about the man. It would do no harm to have another
puncher in the outfit, and would relieve the night guard, which at times
was a little overworked.
"Say, Woofer, you won't take a reward for bringing in our strays, how
would you like a job with this outfit?" he said.
"I don't want you to think I'm workin' ther grub line," said the
cow-puncher quickly.
When a cow-puncher is said to be working the grub line, he is known as a
thriftless cowman who cannot hold a job long anywhere, and who travels
from ranch to ranch, staying only long enough at each to get fed up,
then passing on with a few dollars in his pocket, to repeat the
operation elsewhere.
"Certainly not," answered Ted. "If I believed that I wouldn't offer you
the job."
"All right," said Woofer. "This outfit looks good to me, an' I'll jine,
an' go ter work instanter."
"You're on the pay roll, then."
Woofer proved quickly that he knew the business thoroughly, and when,
the next morning, the herd got under way, he took the left point, with
Bud on the right, and headed the herd into the north.
For several days life on the trail was monotonous. Whenever Ted could be
spared from the herd he and Stella and Hallie Croffut, and sometimes Ben
or Kit, took long rides off the trail with their rifles, after a
pronghorn or black-tail deer, and frequently they had venison for
supper.
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