Never did
partners stand more willingly by each other than did the firm of
Hunter, Anthony & Co., and I only had to explain the opportunity of
buying brands at wholesale, sending the young steers up the trail and
the aging, dry, and barren cows to Indian agencies, to gain the hearty
approval of the little Yankee major. He was entitled to a great deal
of credit for my holdings in land, for from his first sight of Texas,
day after day, line upon line, precept upon precept, he had urged upon
me the importance of securing title to realty, while its equivalent
in scrip was being hawked about, begging a buyer. Now we rejoiced
together in the fulfillment of his prophecy, as I can lay little claim
to any foresight, but am particularly anxious to give credit where
credit is due.
With an asylum for any and all remnants of stock cattle, we authorized
George Edwards to close trades on a number of brands. Taking with us
the two foremen who had brought beef herds out of Uvalde County the
spring before, the major and I started south on the lookout for
beeves. The headwaters of the Nueces and its tributaries were again
our destination, and the usual welcome to buyers was extended with
that hospitality that only the days of the open range knew and
practiced. We closed contracts with former customers without looking
at their cattle. When a ranchman gave us his word to deliver us as
good or better beeves than the spring before, there was no occasion to
question his ability, and the cattle never deceived.
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