"
"I plumb ferget myself, your Honour," laughed the cowpuncher as he
coiled his rope. "Fact is, I learnt to rope mares back in Texas, an' I
ain't----"
"Yip-e-i-e!"
"Ropin' mares!" The cowboys broke into a coyote chorus that drowned
the laughter of the crowd.
"The drinks is on me!" sputtered the Mayor, when he was able to make
himself heard. "Jest you boys high-tail over to the Long Horn an' I'll
be along d'rectly." He turned once more to the crowd of passengers.
"Come on, gents, an' have a drink on me. An' the ladies is welcome,
too. Wolf River is broad in her idees. We hain't got no sexual
restrictions, an' a lady's got as good a right to front a bar an'
nominate her licker as what a man has."
Standing beside Endicott upon the edge of the crowd Alice Marcum had
enjoyed herself hugely. The little wooden town with its high fenced
cattle corrals, and its row of one story buildings that faced the
alkali flat had interested her from the first, and she had joined with
hearty goodwill in the rounds of applause that at frequent intervals
had interrupted the speech of the little town's Mayor. A born
horsewoman, she had watched with breathless admiration the onrush of
the loose-rein riders--the graceful swaying of their bodies, and the
flapping of soft hat brims, as their horses approached with a thunder
of pounding hoofs.
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