And lemme tell you,
Ford, when a woman as good as Kate goes and gets grateful to a
man--gosh! Had your dinner?"
"Not lately, I haven't," Ford declared. "I kinda remember eating, some
time in the past; it was a long time ago, though."
Mason laughed and tagged the answer as being the natural exaggeration
of a hungry man. "Well, come along and eat, then--if you haven't
forgotten how to make your jaws go. I've got Mose Freeman cooking for
me; you know Mose, don't you? Hired him the day after the Fourth; the
Mitten outfit fired him for getting soused and trying to clean out the
camp, and I nabbed him before they had time to forgive him. Way they had
of disciplining him--when he'd go on a big tear they'd fire him for a
few days and then take him back. But they can't git him now--not if I
can help it. A better cook never throwed dishwater over a guy-rope than
that same old Mose, but--" He stopped and looked at Ford hesitantly.
"Say! I hate like the deuce to tie a string on you as soon as you hit
the ranch, Ford, but--if you've got anything along, you won't spring it
on Mose, will you? A fellow's got to watch him pretty close, or--"
"I haven't got a drop.
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