We had invested a
little over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cattle in that
community, and a banquet was even suggested in our honor by some of
the leading citizens. Most of the contracts were made with merchants,
many of whom did not own a hoof of cattle, but depended on their
customers to deliver the steers. The business interests of the town
were anxious to have us return next year. We declined the proposed
dinner, as neither Major Hunter nor myself would have made a
presentable guest. A month or more had passed since I had left the
ranch on the Clear Fork, the only clothes I had were on my back, and
they were torn in a dozen places from running cattle in the brush. My
partner had been living in cow-camps for the past three weeks, and
preferred to be excused from receiving any social attentions. So we
thanked our friends and started for the railroad.
Major Hunter went through to The Grove, while I stopped at Fort Worth.
A buckboard from home was awaiting me, and the next morning I was at
the Edwards ranch. A relay team was harnessed in, and after counting
the babies I started for the Clear Fork. By early evening I was in
consultation with my ranch foreman, as it was my intention to drive an
individual herd if everything justified the venture. I never saw the
range on the Clear Fork look better, and the books showed that we
could easily gather two thousand twos and threes, while the balance of
the herd could be made up of dry and barren cows.
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