We reached the ranch late in the evening and I introduced Nancrede to
Uncle Lance, who took charge of him. We had established a horse camp for
the trail _remuda_, north of the river, and the next morning the trail
foreman, my employer, and June Deweese, rode over to pass on the
saddle stock. The _remuda_ pleased him, being fully up to the contract
standard, and he accepted it with but a single exception. This exception
tickled Uncle Lance, as it gave him an opportunity to annoy his sister
about Nancrede, as he did about every other cowman or drover who visited
the ranch. That evening, as I was chatting with Miss Jean, who was
superintending the Mexican help milking at the cow pen, Uncle Lance
joined us.
"Say, Sis," said he, "our man Nancrede is a cowman all right. I tried to
ring in a 'hipped' horse on him this morning,--one hip knocked down just
the least little bit,--but he noticed it and refused to accept him. Oh,
he's got an eye in his head all right. So if you say so, I'll give him
the best horse on the ranch in old Hippy's place. You're always making
fun of slab-sided cowmen; he's pony-built enough to suit you, and I kind
o' like the color of his hair myself.
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