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Sundown Slim by Henry Hubert Knibbs
page 13 of 304 (04%)
The cowboy shook his head. "I don' know. It'll take a pretty good man
to hold down this job."

"Where is the job?" queried Sundown.

Several of the men grinned, and Sundown, eager to be friendly, grinned
in return.

"Mebby you _could_ hold it down," continued the cowboy. "But say, do
you eat your own cookin'?"

"Guess you're joshin' me." And the tramp's face expressed
disappointment. "I eat my own cookin' when I can't get any better," he
added, cheerfully.

"Well, it ain't no joke--cookin' for that hotel," stated the puncher,
gazing at the end of his cigar and shaking his head. "Is it, boys?"

"Sure ain't," they chorused.

"A man's got to shoot the good chuck to hold the trade," he continued.

"Hotel?" queried Sundown. "In this here town?"

"Naw!" exclaimed the puncher. "It's one o' them swell joints out in
the desert. Kind o' what folks East calls a waterin'-place. Eh, boys?"

"That's her!" volleyed the group.

"Kind o' select-like," continued the puncher.
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