Gather My Horses Read Online Free

and forth. “Then again, maybe it caused some.”
    â€œEither way, I didn’t like it. Someone’s better off than the rest, and he thinks he can ride roughshod over the ones that don’t have much. I just don’t like it.”
    â€œI don’t, either, of course, bein’ one of those that has less.”
    Fielding gave a light shake of the head. “Then their young puncher named Steelyard, nice enough fellow, comes by and tells me I ought not to take sides.”
    â€œHe told you that?”
    â€œI think he meant it well. He’s the type that just by nature stays out of trouble. But if I did what he said, looked the other way, I’d be doing what he is, which is more or less goin’ along with what Cronin does.”
    â€œI’m surprised he took the trouble to tell you.”
    â€œI am, too. He had to go out of his way to do it. I’d guess he heard something from Pence or Adler after I left, and it didn’t sound good.”
    Lodge frowned. “That Cronin’s a high-handed son of a bitch, and he hires men to do things his way.”
    â€œThis is the first time I’d seen Adler. I’d heard there was a new foreman, but I didn’t know what he looked like.”
    Lodge held his eyes on Fielding. “And what does he look like to you?”
    â€œOh, I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to be from around here.”
    â€œI think you’ve got that right.”
    â€œAfter a man’s been here awhile, he takes on thelook of the country,” said Fielding. “His clothes weather to this climate, and he does, too.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Lodge. “And I don’t think Cronin brought this fellow in because of his knowledge about runnin’ cattle on the northern range.”
    Fielding smiled. “You mean he doesn’t look like a foreman to you.”
    â€œNot as much as some.”
    Fielding reflected. “You know, I didn’t even notice if he was wearing a gun.”
    â€œIf you see much of him, you will. And he carries a saddle gun, too. I’ve seen that.”
    â€œThen you think he’s some kind of a—”
    â€œThe nice term is stock detective. If he hadn’t hired on as foreman, he might go by that.” Lodge raised his chin. “Can you get that coffeepot any closer to the coals? It’s takin’ a while to boil.”
    â€œI can try.” Fielding took a stick of firewood, moved two rocks closer to the center of the fire, and set the coffeepot in place.
    â€œI can tell you’re not in any hurry today. You’re not like these others that live on the trail—boil their coffee in a little can, and kick dirt on the ashes before the sun comes up.”
    Fielding smiled. “I don’t have someone trailin’ after me.”
    â€œThat’s good.”
    â€œI do need to go into town a little later on.”
    Lodge gazed at the fire. “Yeah, I need to go in there one of these days, too. Boy, those bells have a pretty sound, don’t they? Meadowlarks sing right along with ’em.”
    The talk ran on, touching on light topics. Lodge asked about the places where Fielding had been—what the grass was like, how the wheat farmers seemed to be doing, whether the snakes were out yet. When the visitor finished his cup of coffee, he stood up.
    â€œWell, I think I’d better move on,” he said. “Thanks for the coffee.”
    â€œGlad you got some. I usually boil it in a little can.”
    â€œI know.” Lodge untied his horse and turned toward Fielding before mounting up. “Thanks for the help you gave Bill,” he said.
    â€œIt wasn’t much.”
    â€œMaybe not, but he appreciates it. Others of us do, too.”
    â€œThanks. That’s good to know.”
    Lodge’s deep brown eyes looked away and came back. “Selby and Roe are plannin’ their own roundup. I’ll throw in what little I