Page:The Cow Jerry (1925).pdf/217



OM LAYLANDER reined up on the trail the herd had left on the prairie, which was broad and plain enough for the most inexperienced per son to follow, it seemed. He sat light and straight in the saddle, the outlaw's rifle in its scabbard under the joint of his knee, his pistol at his side, looking like a Texas ranger on the track of contraband. He held his reins high over the horn of his saddle as he sat looking into the south, the direction the cattle had gone.

Jim Kelly reared back and laughed, sweeping his hand to call attention to the trail.

"Tom, your cows have headed for home!" he said. "They're ten miles over in the Nation by now."

"Sa-ay, do you think that's so?" the livery cowboy asked, his mouth open in dismay.

"Surest thing you know," Jim replied, rocking again with laughter.

Maud was in little more decorous state than her hilarious brother. She was chuckling over the two deputies' humiliation over the ungenerous behavior of their cattle.