"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."

"Seems to me Ah do! The name's familiar, anyway. Did he come from
Yellow Jacket Pass way?" asked Mr. Brewster, scratching his neck,
thoughtfully.

"The same! Wall, he died an' left Sary with nothing but funeral costs.
She had to sell that measly ranch that Bill held a quarter interest in