The One-Way Trail

The One-Way Trail is a Fiction Short Story Book. The book tells that Barney", cried the lantern-faced owner of the fiery red hair. "Anyways a sight o' my hair 'ud be more encouragin' than your ugly ' map. ' Seems to me, bein' familiar with my hair 'l1 make the fires of hell, you'll likely see later, come easier to you when they git busy fumigatin' your carkis". "Gee! that's an elegant word", cried Hoosier Pete, a stripling of youthful elderliness. "Guess you've bin spellin' out Gover'ment Reg'lations". "Yep. San'tary ones. Barney's thinkin' o' gettin' scoured in a kettle o' hot water", said Peddick, with a laugh. "Needs it", muttered a surly Kentuckian. "Hey!" interrupted Barney, quite undisturbed by his comrades' remarks upon his necessity for careful ablutions. "Them's Joe Bloc an' Dutch Kemp. I'd git Dutch's beard anywher's. You couldn't get thro' it with a hay rake. Sure", he went on, shading his eyes", that's them an' they're drivin' them forty three-year-olds that was pinched up at the back o' the northern spurs, Say" But he broke off, concentrating upon the oncoming cattle even more closely. Everybody was doing the same. Jim had also recognized the two cow-punchers. And he, like the rest, was wondering and speculating as to the news that was to be poured into their curious ears directly. The cattle were running and it was evident the two boys were in a hurry for their supper, or to deliver their news. The waiting crowd cleared the way. And one of the boys, at Jim's order, hurried down to the corrals to receive them. He stood by, joined by several others, to head the beasts into their quarters. They came with a rush of shuffling, plodding feet bellowing protest at the hurry, or welcome at sight of the piles of hay that one or two of the men were already pitching into the corral.