mp, "that if you think you know what a woman's
goin' to do, you're as badly fooled as if you burned your shirt."
"Ump," I said sharply, "what do you know about women?"
"Nothin' at all," said he, "nothin' at all. But I know about mares. An'
when they lay back their ears, it don't always mean that they're goin'
to kick you."
CHAPTER XVIII
BY THE LIGHT OF A LANTERN
It was a hungry, bareheaded youngster that rode up at sundown to Roy's
tavern. The yellow mud clinging to my clothes had dried in cakes, and as
my hat was on the other side of the Valley River, my head, as described
by Ump, was a "middlin' fair brush heap."
Adam Roy gaped in astonishment when I called him to the door to ask
about a field for the cattle.
"Law! Quiller," he cried, "where in the name o' fathers have you been
a-wallerin'?"
"We went swimming in the Valley," I answered.
"Mercy sakes!" said the tavern-keeper, "you must a mired down. You've
got mud enough on you to daub a chimney, an' your head looks like a
chaff-pen on a windy mornin'. What did you go swimmin' for?"
"Hobson's choice," said I.
"Was the ferry washed out?" he asked.
"It was out," I said. "How it got out is a heifer of another drove."
"An' did you swim the cattle?" The man leaned out of the door.
I pointed my finger to the drove coming down the road. "There they are,"
said I. "Do you see any wings on them?"
"Lord love me!" cried the tavern-keeper, "I'd never put cattle in the
Valley when it was up, unless I wanted to see their tails a stickin' out
o' the drift-wood. Why didn't you wait until they fixed the ferry? What
was your hurry?"
"No matter about that hurry," said I. "Just now we have another hurry
that is a trifle more urgent. We want a field for the cattle, and corn
and clover hay and plenty of bedding for the horses, and something hot
for supper. We are all as hungry as Job's turkey."
"One thing at a time, Quiller," said the man, spreading his hands. "Turn
the cattle into the north boundary an' come along to the house."
I went back up the road, threw down the bars to the pasture, and counted
the cattle as they went strolling in. The Polled-Angus muleys seemed
none the worse for their long swim, and they began to crop the brown
grass the moment they were out in the field.
Jud and the Cardinal came up after the first hundred, and took a place
by El Mahdi.
I think I know now the joy of the miser counting his gold pieces at
midnight
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