Gather My Horses Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’d let you know I’m ready whenever you might need me.”
    Buchanan looked at the brown horse again, stroked the underside of his jaw with his thumb and first two fingers, and cleared his throat. He was clean-shaven and had a trim mustache, but his weather-tanned face was starting to go heavy and the lines were setting in. He looked tired, as if he had to work himself up to what he had to say. He took a breath and said, “I’ll tell you, Fielding, I need to take things into consideration.”
    â€œOf course.”
    Buchanan seemed to hesitate and then said, “I heard you had a little trouble with the Argyle men.”
    â€œNot much, but there was a small incident.”
    â€œSure. And we don’t need to go through it. You’re your own man.”
    â€œThank you, sir.”
    The blue eyes wandered and then came back to Fielding. “But after considering it, I’ve had to decide that it would be better if I didn’t have you transport goods for me if there was any possibility of mishaps.”
    â€œOh, I don’t think there would be, sir.”
    â€œYou can’t tell, but at any rate, that’s what I’ve decided.”
    â€œI see.” Fielding felt a sinking of the spirits.
    Buchanan’s voice, in contrast, picked up. “That doesn’t mean I don’t value your work. I’d be happy to put in a good word for you, any time.”
    â€œWhy, thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”
    â€œJust fine, and good luck to you, boy.”
    â€œAll the same to you, sir.”
    Buchanan turned and walked away, his heavy brown boots thumping on the board sidewalk.
    Fielding led the buckskin out into the street and swung aboard again. The conversation with Buchanan had left him almost in a daze, as he had been hit by the main point when he thought he was still working up to it. Fielding thought it was polite of Buchanan to make it seem as if Cronin’s men were the problem, but he could see that it was a nice piece of condescension as Buchanan cut off business with him.
    Then came the second part. Fielding was left to interpret that he probably didn’t have much welcome at the Buchanan ranch house anymore. Now that he thought of it, Susan had not said to come back again. Fielding frowned and then shrugged.So much the better for the hatless, red-faced young gentleman.
    Out on the trail, the brown horse stepped right along as the buckskin kept up a fast walk. Fielding rode past Selby’s, where no activity stirred in the ranch yard. He thought that was just as well, as he didn’t care to see Selby again quite so soon. A couple of miles farther, as the road curved through the rolling country, he came to Andrew Roe’s place, also on his left. Thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to have a word with Roe, Fielding turned in.
    As he rode along the lane, he realized it was the first time he had come in from the road and had seen the layout up close. Roe had a good location for his homestead. The house and other buildings lay in a corner formed by two hills, which gave protection from the strong winds that came from the southwest, west, and northwest from November to May.
    Although the place was well situated, Fielding thought a man could make better use of it. At some point, Roe had planted a windbreak of trees on the north side, but now it consisted of three rows of dead stumps. At the far end of the windbreak and a little to the left, a roofed shelter on poles had fallen in on one end and was leaning on the other. Farther to the left, the stable and then the house looked east, which made for good sunshine on winter mornings and shade on summer afternoons, but the whole front yard was littered with heaps of salvage.
    Roe’s accumulations had some order, as the fence posts lay in a pile next to the warped planks, therusty barbed wire had its own mound with weeds growing up through it, the wagon parts leaned against or lay on top of a couple of