wagon. Pink soon joined us, a broad smile playing over his homely
florid countenance.

"'Some of you boys must have given him a heavy dose for so early
in the morning,' said Pink, 'for he ordered me to have the cattle
counted, and report to him at the wagon. Acted like he didn't aim to
do the trick himself. Now, as I'm foreman,' continued Pink, 'I want
you two point-men to go up to the first little rise of ground, and
we'll put the cattle through between you. I want a close count,
understand. You're working under a boss now that will shove you
through hell itself. So if you miss them over a hundred, I'll speak to
the management, and see if I can't have your wages raised, or have you
made a foreman or something with big wages and nothing to do.'

"The point-men smiled at Pink's orders, and one asked, 'Are you ready
now?'

"'All set,' responded Pink. 'Let the fiddlers cut loose.'

"Well, we lined them up and got them strung out in shape to count,
and our point-men picking out a favorite rise, we lined them through
between our counters. We fed them through, and as regularly as a watch
you could hear Californy call out to his pardner 'tally!' Alternately
they would sing out this check on the even hundred head, slipping a
knot on their tally string to keep the hundreds. It took a full half
hour to put them through, and when the rear guard of crips and dogies
passed this impromptu review, we all waited patiently for the verdict.
Our counters rode together, and Californy, leaning over on the pommel
of his saddle, said to his pardner, 'What you got?'