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Soon the work was pretty well in hand, and, leaving Bud Morgan as
segundo, Ted went to the house to see the marshal.
He found that officer sitting on the veranda, quietly smoking a cigar,
an interested witness of the proceedings.
"How are you, Mr. Easton?" said Ted, shaking hands with the marshal. "I
must apologize for not coming sooner, but my hands were full."
"So I see," said the marshal cordially. "I was watching you work out
there. Say, I believe I'd like to be a cow-puncher if I wasn't so old."
"It's a young man's job," said Ted, laughing; "and even at that it is
about all a young fellow can stand at times. But this to-day is a mere
picnic to what we are up against sometimes."
"Well, you seem to be right in it."
"Yes, I love my business. I wouldn't be anything in the world except a
cow-puncher."
"But, remember, you are also a government officer."
"I never forget that. But, if it came to being compelled to quit one or
the other of the occupations, I'd still be a cow-puncher, and let the
marshalship go.


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