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The Pacing Mustang
I
JO CALONE threw down his saddle on the dusty ground, turned his horses loose, and went clanking into the ranchhouse.
"Nigh about chuck time?" he asked.
"Seventeen minutes," said the cook glancing at the Waterbury, with the air of a train-starter, though this show of precision had never yet been justified by events.
"How's things on the Perico?" said Jo's pard.
"Hotter'n hinges," said Jo. "Cattle seem O.K.; lots of calves." •••••••
