"'Why won't you count with me?' he demanded.

"'Because you don't possess common cow sense enough, nor is the crude
material in you to make a cow-hand. You found fault with the men the
last count we had, and I don't propose to please you by giving you a
chance to find fault with me. That's why I won't count with you.'

"'Don't you know, sir, that I'm in authority here?' retorted the
foreman.

"'Well, if you are, no one seems to respect your authority, as you're
pleased to call it, and I don't know of any reason why I should. You
have plenty of men here who can count them correctly. I'll count them
with any man in the outfit but yourself.'

"'Our company sent me as their representative with this herd,' replied
the foreman, 'while you have the insolence to disregard my orders.
I'll discharge you the first moment I can get a man to take your
place.'

"'Oh, that'll be all right,' answered the lad, as the foreman rode
away. He then tackled me, but I acted foolish, 'fessing up that I
couldn't count a hundred. Finally he rode around to a quiet little
fellow, with pox-marks on his face, who always rode on the point, kept
his horses fatter than anybody, rode a San José saddle, and was called
Californy. The boss asked him to help him count the herd.

"'Now look here, boss,' said Californy, 'I'll pick one of the boys to
help me, and we'll count the cattle to within a few head. Won't that
satisfy you?'