"How-thar, Sam!" called Jim Sattler, heartily.
"How-do yourself, Jim!" returned Mr. Brewster, catching hold of Jim's
hardened hand and shaking it back and forth.
"You-all air a sight for sore eyes, Sam! Hain't seen hide nor hair of
any one of you for nigh onto a year! Be'n keepin' pritty busy, Sam?"
said Jim, in a voice that rolled forth like deep thunder.
"Mighty busy, Jim! John's away to college, you know, and now my leetle
chick thinks she can scratch for herself, too. She's bound to go to
school, in Denver, this coming fall."
"Sam, nuthin' like it, these days! A man or woman has to have ddication
to rassle with livin'! Let her go to it, says Ah! It won't be long
afore my boys'll be goin' away, too!"
"That's what brings me here to-day. Ah have been hunting for some kind
of a gal to help the missus this summer and to have her broken in by
the time Polly leaves home," explained Sam Brewster.
"Git one?"
"Not yet! It seems they're as scarce as hen's teeth. Ah never dreamed
it would be such a job to hunt one up, or Ah doubt if Ah'd have
consented to have those girls come and summer with us."
"See har, Sam! Ah bet Ah knows just the woman for you-all, ef you-all
ain't lookin' for a young gal with a figger like a wisp of hay."
"Polly's wisp enough for one ranch! So Ah'm not looking for style but
stock. Do you-all know one, Jim?"
"Ah do that! Sary Dodd's her name. You know Bill Dodd, don't yuh--he
never 'mounted to much as a rancher.
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