Wild Cow Tales by Ben K. Green Page B

them was partly play to a cowboy that was used to catchin’ ’em outside and havin’ to tie them down before he could do anything with ’em. I loaded the cattle about eleven thirty, billed them out, andsealed the car and got on my horse and went back to the mountains.
    I didn’t do much cowboyin’ the rest of that week, and I didn’t have any smart ideas about what I was goin’ to try next to catch a few of these cattle.
    I laid in my bedroll kinda late until the sun came up and it began to get warm. I fed my horses and fixed breakfast, straightened up my camp a little bit, and fooled around until I cooked my dinner. Then I put on my best clothes and saddled old Charlie, my “road” horse, and rode into town just in time for church.
    I stood outside under a tree where I tied my horse until the singin’ started, then I slipped in and sat down in the back row. Very few people saw me come in, and I don’t believe that my presence contaminated the meetin’ too much.
    At the end of the service, as soon as the preacher said “Amen,” I reached down and picked my hat off the floor and started out the door. Dr. Turner’s wife was sittin’ in the choir where she could see me, and she took a short cut and headed me off before I could get to my horse and gave me a gentle kind of talkin’ to and told me in a kind but firm manner to ride on down and put my horse in the barn at her house and stay for the party. I didn’t give her much backtalk—just said, “Thank you, ma’m.”
    It seemed that the whole church came to the doctor’s wife’s party, and people were visitin’ and braggin’ on the new preacher. He was a nice kind of young fellow, and I kinda felt sorry for him—just wonderin’ if some of those good people might wind up treatin’ him like they had me.
    Scotty Perth’s wife and teen-age daughter were in thecrowd, and you could tell by her talk that she had pure Irish blood. (I learned later Scotty’s wife was the daughter of an Irish miner.) Several people asked her about Scotty and why he never came to church any more, and one old man commented on what a beautiful voice Scotty had and how he loved to hear him sing in the choir. I noticed that she was wearin’ a beautiful gold watch on a chain around her neck.
    I stood around to one side and there were a few of the men who spoke to me in a rather hypocritical tone of voice, I thought. Dr. Turner took time out from his guests to visit with me some, and I tried to be nice (after all, up to a few days ago he was the only friend I had in town besides his wife).
    Mrs. Turner opened the door to the dinin’ room and the table was loaded with sandwiches, coffee, some kind of sweet punch, and cake. Of course, most of the kids skipped the sandwiches and went on to the cake and punch, and I thought the kids around here are more like people than the grown folks are.
    When I went back to the table for seconds, I met Scotty Perth’s daughter at the punch bowl. She was a very nice-lookin’ young girl and spoke very correct English in a beautiful feminine voice. She glanced at me with a quick eye and said, “You are Ben Green.”
    I smiled and said yes, and she hastened to tell me that she was Scotty Perth’s daughter. As she poured the punch she said, “Father said when you give up or the weather drives you out ‘he will gather the rest of the cattle with his shay.’ ” She said this in a rather arrogant, smart tone of voice; Mrs. Turner heard her and Isaw her look at me with an expression of concern.
    I set my glass on the table and reached into my vest pocket and handed the young girl a mate to the watch that her mother was wearin’ and said, “Give this to your father and tell him that I rode my Texas pony past where his mountain horse fell with a big man and found his watch.”
    Her voice broke, and she called to her mother, “He has found Daddy’s watch.”
    As her mother looked at it, she said, “Thank heavens! These are the two watches that