This last herd was of Clear Fork cattle, put up within
twenty-five miles of Fort Griffin, every brand as familiar as my own,
and there was little to do but count and receive. Road-branding was
necessary, however; and while this work was in progress, a relay
messenger arrived from the ranch, summoning me to Fort Worth
posthaste. The message was from Major Hunter, and from the hurried
scribbling I made out that several herds were tied up when ready to
start, and that they would be thrown on the market. I hurried home,
changed teams, and by night and day driving reached Fort Worth and
awakened my active partner and Edwards out of their beds to get the
particulars. The responsible man of a firm of drovers, with five herds
on hand, had suddenly died, and the banks refused to advance the
necessary funds to complete their payments. The cattle were under
herd in Wise and Cook counties, both Major Hunter and our segundo had
looked them over, and both pronounced the herds gilt-edged north Texas
steers. It would require three hundred thousand dollars to buy and
clear the herds, and all our accounts were already overdrawn, but it
was decided to strain our credit. The situation was fully explained in
a lengthy message to a bank in Kansas City, the wires were kept busy
all day answering questions; but before the close of business we had
authority to draw for the amount needed, and the herds, with remudas
and outfits complete, passed into our hands and were started the
next day.
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