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 "No, Garland ain't arrived yet, son. What was you wantin' Garland for?"

"He sent me down here. I met him in Pawnee Bend yesterday and he gave me a job ridin' the quarantine line."

Moore looked at Bill with comical expression of melting pity. He did it so well the effect was all he could have asked. Some of the crowd writhed and shrilled in high-keyed mirth, although each struggled manfully to hold back something for the real big laugh which everybody knew this was leading up to. The thought of being unmannerly or inhumane never entered their onedoor minds. It was lawful entertainment to them to badger a greenhorn, as it was delightful diversion to the savage Indians to burn strange specimens of the genus who fell into their hands.

"Hired you for the quarantine, huh? Kid, them Texas fellers they'd twist you up and fry you in grease. I told you yesterday morning we didn't have any use for boys down here, and I thought you had a litele bit of sense when you went back to town." Moore looked at him with glowering face, his humorous vein diverted in contemplation of this raw piece of effrontery. "I thought you was goin' to take a train out of this country?"

"So did I," Bill admitted, looking down in his abashed, nonplussed appearing habit, which didn't do him a bit of good before such a crowd as that.

"Garland's hirin' ain't final, it's only a beginnin'," Moore said hotly, taking it out on Bill. "I've got to put my OK on every man that goes out to ride that