"Trail-riders? You don't mean men to carry mail, sir?"
"No, I mean trail-riders, just plain trail-riders."
"I don't believe we had 'em in Taixas, sir."
"No, I guess you didn't. Trail-ridin' is a new profession—it sprung up in this country in the last two years, since the cattlemen all went into the association to keep the Texas fever out of the Arkansas Valley range. Well, you bein' from Texas, maybe they wouldn't give you a job."
"Has it got something to do with keeping Taixas cattle out of this part of the country, sir?"
"It's got all to do with it. You know them Texas herds drops fever ticks around here sometimes as thick as beans, and the association's been trvin' to git Congress to pass a law settin' a quarantine line ag'in 'em. Congress ain't took no action on it, but the association's set certain trails for them Texas cattle to foiler when they drive 'em up to this country to ship, and the trail-riders is the fellers that sees they take to 'em and keep to 'em."
"I understand it, sir."
"You can't blame the cattlemen on this range if they have laid out trails that takes Texas cattle to hell-and-gone around and nearly wears 'em out before they git to where they're goin'. Texas fever's cost 'em millions on this range in the past five or six years, and it's either go out of business,
