The star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1908-1909, 1908-11-24

Swinging one over each arm, he
started toward the corral, saying:
Come on, boys, we got a lot to do to-
day. Git your bosses"
The night riders were coming into
camp greeting their comrades with
grunts. or in a few words telling them
what to guard against in some par
ticular part of the grazing herd.
The sun a risen. The cattle were
on their feet browsing the short. sweet
grass, moving. slowly toward the river.
Work" growled Show Low. darn
me IL 1 amt commenced to hate It,"
Fresno picked up his saddle to follow
his foreman, but paused long enough
to fire his parting shot at the cook:
Say. Parenthesis, If them biscuits
you're maxim Is as hard as the last
bunch, save four of 'em for me. I want
to shoe that POM of mine"
Parenthesis threw a tin cup al
Fresno. who lodged it. Punching the
dough viciously, he said. Darn this
housekeepin'. Gets a feller's hands all
~rough-it's enough to Spite the DISPOSE
ton of a saint"
His ~soliloquy was interrupted by
Buck Mckee riding up to the wagon
from Lazy x outfit, which was camp
ing a mile below them.
Hello, Cookie! How goes it?" was
his greeting.
you wind it up, and 1t goes eight
DAYS" Parenthesis beloved, his tems
per fast reaching the breaking point.
Jack Payson amt back YETI" Buck
asked, paying no attention to tho bad
humor of Parenthesis.
mot that | knows on"
The cooked rolled the dough with
elaborate care.
Nor Hoover"
"Ain't seen him." he replied CURLY.
"Well, they amt comm back, either
They pulled it off pretty slick on US
fellers. Hoover he let's Payson go and
makes a bluff at chasin' after him
Then they gets off somewhere, splits
| up the money, and gives us the laugh
Parenthesis turned on him In angel
and shouted: I'll bet my outfit against
a pair of green socks that either n oil
'em or both will be back here before
this roundup is over"
you will, eh?'' snarled Buck. We'll
we're just waitin' for 'em. Well swing
Payson SO high he'll look like a buzz
card, and as for H~oover-well. he's
served his last term as sheriff In this
we're county, YOU iltdI lit ohOhtiit6s Fl
Mckee cut his pony with his quirt
and dashed away in time to escape an
unwelcome encounter with several
members of the Sweetwater outfit who
were riding back to camp.
"S-t-a-y with him. Bud. Stay with
him." shouted Parenthesis, as he frs
of the cowboys pitched on a b~uckina
horse past the chuck-wagon, the rider
using quirt and spurs until he got the
bronco into q lope. The other boys fol-
lowed, each cayuse apparently invent.
ing some new sort of deviltry.
For two weeks before the roundup
the outfit had been busting broncos al
the home ranch. Each morning al
dawn they started, working until the
heat of the day forced them to rest.
When the temperature crawls to 10i In
the shade, and the alkali dust Is SO
thick in the corral that the hoofs raise
a cloud In which horses can hide them
selves twenty feet away, when eyea
smart and the tongue aches in the
parched mouth, it becomes limo I'm.
possible to handle yourself, let alone q
kicking, struggling bronco.
AS one day Is like another, n one
horse differs from another only In the
order of his tricks to avoid the rope
and the saddle, a glimpse Of the horse.
manship of Bud Lane and his ellow
will serve as a general picture OF Dfe
on any Western ranch.
The breaking of the ponies was the
work of Bud Lane, who, through the In
nuence of Polly, had broken with Nc.
Kee n returned to work on Sweet
water Ranch in order to assist Echo,
with whom he had become reconcilod
on discovering that she had been loyal
to his brother even to the extent Of
sending her husband into the desert Ia
bring Dick back.
Bud was the youngest of the hands,
but a lad born to the saddle and rope,
"Weak head and strong back for a
horse fighter is a proverb on tina
plains, and Bud had certainly acted the
part.
Fresno and Show Low, with four
hankers, had driven into the corral a
half-dozen horses untouched by man
hands since the days of colthood. a
shout, a swing of a gate, and the
beasts were huddled in the round corral.
trembling and snorting. This corral
has a circular fence slightly higher than
a mans head, with a sn~ubbing-post in
the centre.
Wnlle THIS is gong OH, buu has ldiu
out his cow saddle, single-rigged, his
quirt and pieces of grass rope for cross
hobbling.
Ready, Bud?" asks Sagebrush.
yep he replies. as he drops into
the corral.
Bud adjusts the hondo and loop Of
his lariat, keeping his eye on the cir
cling horses, and picking out his first
victim. The rope snakes through the
air. and falls over the head of a pony.
Leaping, bucking, striking with his
hoofs al the rope about his neck, the
horse fights and shorts. AS the rope
tightens, shutting off his wind, he
plunges less ~viclously.
Bud, with the help of Fresno n
Show Low, takes a turn about the
snubbing-post. easing up the rope to
prevent the horse from breaking his
neck when he falls.
The pony, with braced feet, hauls on
the lariat, until, choking, it throws It
self. Bud in a twinkling has his knee
on the bronco's neck. Grasplng the
under jaw, hi throws the head up in
the air until the nose points skyward.
The turn is slipped from the post, and
the moose is slackened n pulled Ill
a bride over the animals head, to be
fastened curbwise to his under jaw.