"If anybody's at home," sez I, "I'd like to ask permission to set
down an' rest."

"Why, certainly, make yourself at home," sez the fair hair. The
balance o' the bunch only give me the side eye.

"Would you need any more help?" I asked, most respectful.

"No, thank you," sez the young feller, "I think we'll make it all
right."

"You have a nice bunch here," sez I, "an' I thought perhaps you
might want to get 'em to market in good shape. I am referrin' to the
cows"--I continued, kind o' takin' the cover off my voice.

"We expect to get them to market in good shape," sez the fair-hair,
uncoilin' his dignity. I rolled a cigarette.

"What makes you think we won't get them to market in good shape?"
sez he.

"'Cause your cook's got a sour temper, an' the' ain't no one bossin'
the job--'at knows how," sez I, mild an' open-faced, an' lookin'
into the fire. The fair-hair straightens up with a snort, while the
pot-openers begin to cuss sort o' growly.

"Where are you from an' how long have you been making my business
your own?" asked the fair-hair.