He took the seat at the head of
the table, along the benches on both sides of which the punchers
were plying busy knives and forks.
"A stack of chips," ordered the foreman; and the cook's "Coming
up" was scarcely more prompt than the plate of hot cakes he set
before the young man.
"Hen fruit, sunny side up," shouted Reddy, who was further
advanced in his meal.
"Tame that fog-horn, son," advised Wun Hop; but presently he slid
three fried eggs from a frying-pan into the plate of the hungry
one.
"I want y'u boys to finish flankin' that bunch of hill calves
to-day," said the foreman, emptying half a jug of syrup over his
cakes.
"Redtop, he ain't got no appetite these days," grinned Denver, as
the gentleman mentioned cleaned up a second loaded plate of ham,
eggs and fried potatoes. "I see him studying a Wind River Bible*
yesterday. Curious how in the spring a young man's fancy gits to
wandering on house furnishing. Red, he was taking the catalogue
alphabetically. Carpets was absorbin' his attention, chairs on
deck, and chandeliers in the hole, as we used to say when we was
baseball kids."
[*A Wind River Bible in the Northwest ranch country is a
catalogue of one of the big Chicago department stores that does a
large shipping business in the West.
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