Clarence E. Mulford

“ Never like to walk into a man's room in th' dark, when he's asleep an' not expectin' visitors. 'Specially when he's worryin' about rustlers. It ain't allus healthy."
"All right," growled the foreman, "but you don't have to throw 'em; you can toss 'em, easy, from there. I've got a welt on my head as big as a chew of tobacco. I'm shore glad you couldn't find nothin' out there that was any bigger. You comin' in or am I comin' out?"
The door squeaked open and squeaked shut and then a chair squeaked.
"You got a musical room," observed Johnny, chuckling softly. ”

“ Th' old Piute can't talk about nothin' but you. Every time th' boys drop in there they get fed up on you. Of course they don't show much interest in yore doin's; an' they don't have to. They says yo're a d—d quitter, an' stuff like that, an' Pop gets riled up an' near scalps 'em. What you been doin' to get him so friendly? I never thought he'd be friendly, like that, to anythin' but a silver dollar."
"I don't know—just treat him decent," replied Johnny. ”

“ My cows was goin' up Little Canyon in whole herds an' I couldn't seem to stop 'em nohow."
"Keepin' my head out of trouble is my long suit," chuckled Johnny. "An' there ain't none of yore cows goin' up Little Canyon—not till I steal some of 'em. Been wonderin' where I was an' what I was doin'?"
"Not very much," answered the foreman. "Got a match? We been gettin' our mail reg'lar every week, an' th' boys allus drop in for a drink at Pop's; an' they're good listeners. Say! What th' h—l is this I hears about puttin' blankets on my cows an' shovin' 'em into th' river every night? ”