And he never asked questions except when alone with Phil or the Dean,
and then only when led on by them. It was not that he sought to hide his
ignorance, for he made no pretenses whatever, but his reticence seemed,
rather, the result of a curious feeling of shame that he had so little
in common with these men whose lives were so filled with useful labor.
And this, if he had known, was one of the things that made them like
him. Men who live in such close daily touch with the primitive realities
of life, and who thereby acquire a simple directness, with a certain
native modesty, have no place in their hearts for--to use their own
picturesque vernacular--a "four-flusher."
Phil tactfully did not even smile at the question, but answered in a
matter-of-fact tone. "To look out for screw-worms, brand a calf here
and there, keep the water holes open, and look out for the stock
generally."
"And you mean," questioned Patches doubtfully, "that _I_ am to ride with
you?"
"Sure. You see, Uncle Will thinks you are too good a man to waste on the
odd jobs around the place, and so I'm going to get you in shape for the
rodeo this fall.
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