This momentous morning he had decided that his unsolicited mission was
to induce or persuade Loring to arbitrate the question of
grazing-rights. It was a strange idea, although not incompatible with
Sundown's peculiar temperament. He felt justified in taking the
initiative; especially in view of the fact that Loring's sheep had been
trespassing on his property.
He saddled "Pill," and called to Chance. "See here, Chance, you and
me's pals. No, you ain't comin' this trip. You stick around and keep
your eye on me stock. What's mine is yourn exceptin' the rooster.
Speakin' poetical, he belongs to them hens. If he ain't here when I
get back, I can pretty nigh tell by the leavin's where he is. When I
git back I look to find you hungry, sabe? And not sneakin' around
lookin' at me edgeways with leetle feathers stickin' to your nose. I
reckon you understand."
Chance followed his master to the road, and there the dog sat gazing at
the bobbing figure of Sundown until it was but a speck in the morning
sunshine. Then Chance fell to scratching his ear with his hind foot,
rose and shook himself, and stalked indolently to the yard where he lay
with his nose along his outstretched fore legs, watching the proscribed
rooster with an eloquence of expression that illustrated the proverbial
power of mind over matter.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299