I was impartial, but as Wichita was fully one
hundred miles the nearest, my cattle were turned for that point.
Wichita was a frontier village of about two thousand inhabitants. We
found a convenient camp northwest of town, and went into permanent
quarters to await the opening of the market. Within a few weeks
a light drive was assured, and prices opened firm. Fully a
quarter-million less cattle would reach the markets within the State
that year, and buyers became active in securing their needed supply.
Early in July I sold the last of my herd and started my outfit home,
remaining behind to await the arrival of my brother. The trip was
successful; the purchased cattle had afforded me a nice profit, while
the steers from the two brands had more than paid for the mixed stuff
left at home on the ranch. Meanwhile I renewed old acquaintances among
drovers and dealers, Major Mabry among the former. In a confidential
mood I confessed to him that I had bought, on the recent decline, one
hundred certificates of land scrip, when he surprised me by saying
that there had been a later decline to sixteen dollars a section. I
was unnerved for an instant, but Major Mabry agreed with me that to a
man who wanted the land the price was certainly cheap enough,--two
and a half cents an acre. I pondered over the matter, and as my nerve
returned I sent my merchant friend at Austin a draft and authorized
him to buy me two hundred sections more of land scrip.
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