Rather than make a three-mile ride to the house, the visitors took
dinner with the wagon, and about one o’clock Deweese and a vaquero came
in, dragging a hide between them. June cordially greeted the callers,
including Henry Annear, who represented the Las Norias ranch, though I
suppose it was well known to every one present that there was no love
lost between them. Uncle Lance asked our foreman for his list of
outside brands, explaining that these men wished to look them over.
Everything seemed perfectly satisfactory to all parties concerned, and
after remaining in camp over an hour, Deweese and the vaquero saddled
fresh horses and rode away. The visitors seemed in no hurry to go, so
Uncle Lance sat around camp entertaining them, while the rest of us
proceeded with our work of baling. Before leaving, however, the entire
party in company of our employer took a stroll about the hide yard,
which was some distance from camp. During this tour of inspection,
Annear asked which were the bales of outside hides taken in Deweese’s
division, claiming he represented a number of brands outside of Las
Norias. The bales were pointed out and some dozen unbaled hides looked
over. On a count the baled and unbaled hides were found to tally
exactly with the list submitted. But unfortunately Annear took occasion
to insinuate that the list of brands rendered had been “doctored.”
Uncle Lance paid little attention, though he heard, but the other
visitors remonstrated with Annear. This only seemed to make him more
contentious. Finally matters came to an open rupture when Annear
demanded that the cordage be cut on certain bales to allow him to
inspect them. Possibly he was within his rights, but on the Nueces
during the seventies, to question a man’s word was equivalent to
calling him a liar; and _liar_ was a fighting word all over the cattle
range.
“Well, Henry,” said Uncle Lance, rather firmly, “if you are not
satisfied, I suppose I’ll have to open the bales for you, but before I
do, I’m going to send after June. Neither you nor any one else can cast
any reflections on a man in my employ. No unjust act can be charged in
my presence against an absent man. The vaqueros tell me that my foreman
is only around the bend of the river, and I’m going to ask all you
gentlemen to remain until I can send for him.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account