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How Mary met the Punchers
By narie Coolidge Rask
^W/ELL, that old saddle's busted
W again."
William DeLancey Fordham, otherwise known as "Bill/7 made the remark with an air of finality, as he flung the heavy piece of ranch equipment down on the step where his employer sat smoking and watching the progress of an approaching vehicle out on the plain.
Edward Lewis, the prosperous rancher who, years ago had come to Wyoming for his health, was not one to remain aloof from the men in his employ. He knew that the majority of them had not always lived on the ranges. Altho outward evidences of association with the refinements and education of the East had disappeared, he knew that some of the most daring riders and wildest yelling cowboys that ever flung a lariat, had come from families of culture and wealth. He knew it, but it made no difference to him, for he had a sincere affection for them all. He was somewhat silent himself, usually full of plans for the development of his ranch, but there were times when he could forget his planning and talk and laugh as heartily as anyone. He glanced at the saddle with disapproval.
"That thing was a cheat," he observed, removing his pipe from his mouth and flourishing it, the better to emphasize his remarks. "Yes sir, a swindle — an all-round swindle from the very first. It's been nothing but busted and mended and busted and mended ever since that blame fool brought it to the ranch. Jake Loomis don't know any more about buying saddles than I do about air ships. When he got back here from Chicago and
brought that saddle along, I knew as soon as I looked at it just what kind of a rocking-chair he'd got."
Bill was carefully threading his needle, preparatory to mending the much maligned saddle. He nodded, appreciatively.
"What'd he want to buy it in Chicago for?" he inquired. "Wasn't the Green Eiver Emporium doing business ?"
"That's just what I asked Jake," replied Lewis, relighting his pipe. "I said, 'if I'd thought any of you boys was going down to Chicago to get roped in at a bargain sale, I'd have gone myself or telegraphed the police to look out for a bunch of tenderfeet from Wyoming.' That saddle wasn't the only fool thing they bought on that trip, either. They — "
The speaker paused abruptly, rose and started down the steps to meet the dusty wagon as it came within speaking distance.
"Here she is," cried a welcoming voice as Mrs. Lewis, known to all the boys as "Mother," appeared in the doorway and, with arms extended, hurried forward to greet the pretty young girl, already being helped to the ground by the ranchman.
"Oh, Uncle Ned— Aunt Katie— How glad I am to see you ! Oh, what a ride it has been!" exclaimed the new arrival, embracing first one and then another of her relatives.
"It was too bad I couldn't drive down to The Forks to meet you. myself," apologized Lewis : "but it takes so much time to go down and back, that we usually have to leave here liefore daylight, and I had to be home this morning to look after some matters here at the ranch."
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